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O Mistress Mine
by William  Shakespeare

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.
        
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Poem ID: 8049   Poem Posted: 6/13/1999
Viewed: 275832  Voted On: 3086  E-mailed: 1640  Commented On: 34
 
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