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 not plenty;
      Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
      Youth's a stuff will not endure.
  • Location:
    In A Land Of My Own
  • Joined:
    4 years ago

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