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.

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.

From heav'nly thoughts all true delight doth spring.

Kind are her answers, But her performance keeps no day; Breaks time, as dancers. From their own Music when they stray.

A prudent pharmacist often vends something for your complaint. But wine merchant you do this invariably.

There is a garden in her eyes, where roses and white lilies flow.