The Entwined Collection
Come, love, why stay'st thou? The night
Will vanish ere wee taste delight.
The moone obscures her selfe from sight,
Thou absent, whose eyes give her light.
Come quickly deare, be briefe as time,
Or we by morne shall be o'retane,
Love's Joy's thing owne as well as mine,
Spend not therefore, time in vaine.
Thisbe's Song - Abraham Cowley 1618 - 1667
No mask like open truth to discover lies,
As to go naked is the best disguise.
William Congreve 1670 - 1729