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| Potted Flowers with Books IV Eric Barjot |
from Twelfth Night
Sweet-and-Twenty
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 stuff will not endure.
William Shakespeare
(23rd April 1564 - 23rd April 1616)
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