Part 2 — PERSUASIONS TO ENJOY
Reading edition
If the quick spirits in your eye Now languish and anon must die; If every sweet and every grace Must fly from that forsaken face: Then, Celia, let us reap our joys Ere Time such goodly fruit destroys.
Or, if that golden fleece must grow For ever free from aged snow; If those bright suns must know no shade, Nor your fresh beauties ever fade: Then fear not, Celia, to bestow What, still being gathered, still must grow.
Thus either Time his sickle brings In vain, or else in vain his wings.
Thomas Carew [1598?-1639?]