document.write("If all the world and love were young,<br />And truth in every shepherd\\\'s tongue,<br />These pretty pleasures might me move<br />To live with thee and be thy love.<br /><br />Time drives the flocks from field to fold <br />When rivers rage and rocks grow cold, <br />And Philomel becometh dumb; <br />The rest complains of cares to come.<br /><br />The flowers do fade, and wanton fields<br />To wayward winter reckoning yields; <br />A honey tongue, a heart of gall,<br />Is fancy\\\'s spring, but sorrow\\\'s fall.<br /><br />Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, <br />Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies<br />Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten-- <br />In folly ripe, in reason rotten.<br /><br />Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, <br />Thy coral clasps and amber studs,<br />All these in me no means can move<br />To come to thee and be thy love.<br /><br />But could youth last and love still breed, <br />Had joys no date nor age no need,<br />Then these delights my mind might move <br />To live with thee and be thy love.");