The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd

5Time drives the flocks from field to fold

6When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,

7And Philomel becometh dumb;

8The rest complains of cares to come.

9The flowers do fade, and wanton fields

10To wayward winter reckoning yields;

11A honey tongue, a heart of gall,

12Is fancy's spring but sorrow's fall.

13Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,

14Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies

15Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten, -

16In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

17Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,

18Thy coral clasps and amber studs,

19All these in me no means can move

20To come to thee and be thy love.

21But could youth last and love still breed,

22Had joys no date nor age no need,

23Then these delights my mind might move

24To live with thee and be thy love.