For my mind misgives, some consequence yet hanging in the stars, shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night's revels, and expire the term of a despised life, closed in my breast by some vile forfeit of untimely death. But he that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail. She doth teach the torches to burn bright. It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, as a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear, a beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. So shows a snowy darkness, a beauty too rich for use, for So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, as yonder lady o'er her fellow shows. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it's sight, for I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. What is a youth impetuous far? What is a maid ice and desire? The world wags on. A rose will bloom, it then will fade. So does a youth. So does the fairest maid. Comes a time when one sweet smile has its season for a while, then loves in love with me. Some they think only to marry. Others will tease and tarry. Mine is the very best parry. Cupid he rules us all. Caper the caper, sing me the song. Death will come soon to hush us along. Sweeter than honey and bitter as gall. Love is a pastime that never will pull. Sweeter than honey and bitter as gall. Cupid he rules us all. A rose will bloom, it then will fade. So does a youth. So does the fairest maid. If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, my lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand to smooth the rough touch with a gentle kiss. Good pilgrim, you'd wrung your hand too much, which manly devotion shows in this. For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch. And palm to palm is holy palms' kiss. Have not saints lips? And holy palm is true? Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Oh, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray. Grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Saints do not move, though grant for prayer's sake. Then move not. While my prayers affect, I take. While my prayers affect, I take. Thus, from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged. Then have my lips the sin that they have took? Sin from my lips? Oh, trespass sweetly urged. Give me my sin again. A rose will bloom, it then will fade. So does the youth. So does the fairest maid.