1 If all the world and love were young, <br />2 And truth in every shepherd's tongue, <br />3 These pretty pleasures might me move <br />4 To live with thee and be thy love. <br /> <br />5 Time drives the flocks from field to fold, <br />6 When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, <br />7 And Philomel becometh dumb; <br />8 The rest complains of cares to come. <br /> <br />9 The flowers do fade, and wanton fields <br />10 To wayward winter reckoning yields; <br />11 A honey tongue, a heart of gall, <br />12 Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. <br /> <br />13 Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, <br />14 Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies <br />15 Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,-- <br />16 In folly ripe, in reason rotten. <br /> <br />17 Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, <br />18 The coral clasps and amber studs, <br />19 All these in me no means can move <br />20 To come to thee and be thy love. <br /> <br />21 But could youth last and love still breed, <br />22 Had joys no date nor age no need, <br />23 Then these delights my mind might move <br />24 To live with thee and be thy love.<br /><br />Sir Walter Ralegh<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-nymph-s-reply/
