SONG. Perswasions to enjoy.

IF the quick spirits in your eye
Now languish, and anon must dye▪
If every sweet, and every grace,
Must fly from that forsaken face:
Then (Celia) let us reape our joyes,
E're time such goodly fruit destroyes.

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 feare not (Celia) to bestow,
What still beirg gather'd, still must grow.
Thus, either Time his Sickle brings
In vaine, or else in vaine his wings.