Classic Poem

Now Serena, bee not coy;
Since wee frely may enjoy
Sweete imbraces: such delights,
As will shorten tedious nightes.
Thinke that beauty will not stay
With you allwaies, but away,
And that tyrannizing face
That now holdes such perfect grace,
Will both chaing'd and ruined bee;
So fraile is all thinges as wee see,
So subject unto conquering Time.
Then gather Flowers in theire prime,
Let them not fall and perish so;
Nature her bountyes did bestow
On us that wee might use them: And
Tis coldnesse not to understand
What shee and Youth and Forme perswade
With Oppertunity, that's made
As we could wish itt. Lett's then meete
Often with amourous lippes, and greet
Each other till our wantonne Kisses
In number passe the dayes Ulisses
Consum'd in travaile; and the starrs
That looke upon our peacfull Warrs
With envious lustere. If this store
Will not suffice, Wee'le number o're
The same againe, untill wee finde,
No number left to call to minde
And shew our plenty. They are poore
That can count all they have and more.