Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.
Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o'erflow with wine; Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine.
From heav'nly thoughts all true delight doth spring.
Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.
Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights.
Beauty is not beauty without love.