Shake Your Spear

O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear! your true-love's coming
That can sing both high and low
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers' meeting
Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter
Present mirth hath present laughter
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty,
Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.