Song to Celia

• Come, my Celia, let us prove,
• While we may, the sports of love;
• Time will not be ours for ever :
• He at length our good will sever.
• Spend not then his gifts in vain.
• Suns that set, may rise again:
• But if once we lose this light,
• 'Tis with us perpetual night.
• Why should we defer our joys ?
• Fame and rumor are but toys.
• Cannot we delude the eyes
• Of a few poor household spies ;
• Or his easier ears buguile,
• So removed by our wile ?
• 'Tis no sin love's fruit to steal,
• But the sweet theft to reveal :
• To be taken, to be seen,
• These have crimes accounted been.