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 that will not endure.

~ William Shakespeare