Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee, o, my love, my love is young! age, I do defy thee: o, sweet shepherd, hie thee, for methinks thou stay's too long, Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good, a shining gloss that vadeth suddenly, a flower that dies when first it gins to bud, a brittle glass that's broken presently, a doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, lost, vided, broken, dead within an hour. And as goods lost are seld or never found, as vided gloss no rubbing will refresh, as flowers dead lie withered on the ground, as broken glass no cement can redress, so beauty blemished once's for ever lost, in spite of physic, painting, pain and cost. Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share, she bade good night that kept my rest away, and doffed me to a cabin hanged with care, to descant on the doubts of my decay. Farewell, quote she, and come again tomorrow, fare well I could not, for I supped with sorrow. Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile, in scorn or friendship, nil I construe whether, t may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, t may be, again to make me wander thither, wander, a word for shadows like myself, as take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf. Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! my heart both charge the watch; the morning rise, both cite each moving sense from idle rest. Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, while Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, and wish her lays were tuned like the lark, for she both welcome daylight with her ditty, and drives away dark dismal-dreaming night, the night so packed, I post unto my pretty, heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight, sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with sorrow, for why, she sighed and bade me come tomorrow. Were I with her, the night would post too soon, but now are minutes added to the hours, to spite me now, each minute seems a moon, yet not for me, shine sun to succor flowers! Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow, short, night, to-night, and length thyself tomorrow. It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three, that liked of her master as well as well might be, till looking on an English man, the fairest that eye could see, her fancy fell a turning.