The flowers doe fade, & wanton fieldes, (10) To wayward winter reckoning yeeldes, A honny tongue, a hart of gall, Is fancies spring, but sorrowes fall.
Thy gownes, thy shooes, thy beds of Roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy poesies, (15) Soone breake, soone wither, soone forgotten: In follie ripe, in reason rotten.
Thy belt of straw and Iuie buddes, Thy Corall claspes and Amber studdes, All these in mee no meanes can moue, (20) To come to thee, and be thy loue.
But could youth last, and loue still breede, Had ioyes no date, nor age no neede, Then these delights my minde might moue, To liue with thee, and be thy loue.
¶ Another of the same nature, made since. +
C Ome liue with mee, and be my deere, And we will reuell all the yeere, In plaines and groaues, on hills and dales: Where fragrant ayre breedes sweetest gales.
(5) There shall you haue the beauteous Pine, The Cedar, and the spreading Vine, And all the woods to be a Skreene: Least Phœbus kisse my Sommers Queene.