Your fair looks urge my desire

Your fair looks urge my desire:
Calm it, sweet, with love!
Stay; O why will you retire?
Can you churlish prove?
If love may persuade,
Love's pleasures, dear, deny not:
Here is a grove secured with shade:
O then be wise, and fly not.

Hark, the birds delighted sing,
Yet our pleasure sleeps:
Wealth to none can profit bring,
Which the miser keeps.
O come, while we may,
Let's chain love with embraces;
We have not all times time to stay,
Nor safety in all places.

What ill find you now in this,
Or who can complain?
There is nothing done amiss
That breeds no man pain.
'Tis now flowery May;
But even in cold December,
When all these leaves are blown away,
This place shall I remember.