Come and let us live my Dear, Let us love and never fear, What the sourest Fathers say: Brightest Sol that dies today Lives again as blithe tomorrow, But if we dark sons of sorrow Set; o then, how long a Night Shuts the Eyes of our short light! Then let amorous kisses dwell On our lips, begin to tell A Thousand, and a Hundred, score An Hundred, and a Thousand more, Till another Thousand smother That, and that wipe off another. Thus at last when we have numb'red Many a Thousand, many a Hundred; We'll confound the reckoning quite, And lose ourselves in wild delight: While our joys so multiply, As shall mock the envious eye.
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