The world in all doth but two nations bear- The good, the bad; and these mixed everywhere.
Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide.
Art indeed is long, but life is short.
Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Annihilating all that's made, To a green thought in a green shade.
Gather the flowers, but spare the buds.