If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.But fading flowers in every field,
To winter floods their treasures yield;
A honey'd tongue, a heart of gall,
Is Fancy's spring, but Sorrow's fall. (Walter Raleigh)

If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move To live with thee and be thy Love.But fading flowers in every field, To winter floods their treasures yield; A honey'd tongue, a heart of gall, Is Fancy's spring, but Sorrow's fall.

Walter Raleigh

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