It is not, Celia, in our power To say how long our love will last;It may be we within this hour May lose those joys we now do taste:The blessed, that immortal be,From change in love are only free.
Then, since we mortal lovers are, Ask not how long our love will last;But while it does, let us take care Each minute be with pleasure past.Were it not madness to denyTo live, because w'are sure to die?
