Thomas Dekker (c. 1570–1632)

LIVE with me still, and all the measures

Played to by spheres I’ll teach thee;

Let’s but thus dally, all the pleasures

The moon beholds, her man shall reach thee.

Dwell in mine arms, aloft we’ll hover,

And see fields of armies fighting:

Oh, part not from me! I’ll discover

There all the books of fancy’s writing.

Be but my darling, age to free thee

From her curse, shall fall a-dying;

Call me thy empress, Time to see thee

Shall forget his art of flying.