Classic Poem

Turne backe, you wanton flyer,
And answere my desire
With mutuall greeting;
Yet bende a little neerer,
True beauty stil shines cleerer
In closer meeting.
Harts with harts delighted
Should strive to be united,
Either others armes with armes enchayning:
Harts with a thought, rosie lips
With a kisse still entertaining.

What harvest halfe so sweete is
As still to reape the kisses
Growne ripe in sowing,
And straight to be receiver
Of that which thou art giver,
Rich in bestowing?
There's no strickt observing
Of times, or seasons changing,
There is ever one fresh spring abiding:
Then what we sow with our lips
Let us reape, loves gaines deviding.