Classic Poem

Whither so fast? See how the kindly flowers
Perfumes the air, and all to make thee stay.
The climbing woodbind, clipping all these bowers,
Clips thee likewise for fear thou pass away.
Fortune our friend, our foe will not gainsay.
Stay but awhile, Phoebe no tell-tale is;
She her Endymion, I 'll my Phoebe kiss.

Fear not, the ground seeks but to kiss thy feet.
Hark, hark how Philomela sweetly sings,
Whilst water-wanton fishes, as they meet,
Strike crotchet time amidst these crystal springs,
And Zephyrus 'mongst the leaves sweet murmur rings.
Stay but awhile, Phoebe no tell-tale is;
She her Endymion, I 'll my Phoebe kiss.

See how the heliotrope, herb of the sun,
Though he himself long since be gone to bed,
Is not of force thine eyes' bright beams to shun,
But with their warmth his goldy leaves unspread,
And on my knee invites thee rest thy head.
Stay but awhile, Phoebe no tell-tale is;
She her Endymion, I 'll my Phoebe kiss.