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Thomas Carew - Persuasions to Enjoy
Work rating: Medium

If the quick spirits in your eye   
Now languish and anon must die;   
If every sweet and every grace   
Must fly from that forsaken face;   
    Then, Celia, let us reap our joys
    Ere Time such goodly fruit destroys.   
  
Or if that golden fleece must grow   
For ever free from agèd snow;   
If those bright suns must know no shade,   
Nor your fresh beauties ever fade;   
    Then fear not, Celia, to bestow   
    What, still being gather`d, still must grow.   
  
Thus either Time his sickle brings   
In vain, or else in vain his wings.
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