There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are

Beauty's A Doubtful Good, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour; And Beauty, Blemish'd Once, For Ever's Lost, In Spite Of Physic, Painting, Pain, And Cost.

A Noble Shalt Thou Have, And Present Pay; And Liquor Likewise Will I Give To Thee, And Friendship Shall Combine, And Brotherhood.

Now The Fair Goddess, Fortune, Fall Deep In Love With Thee, And Her Great Charms Misguide Thy Opposers' Swords!

A Woman Moved Is Like A Fountain Troubled, Muddy, Ill-seeming, Thick, Bereft Of Beauty.

But Thou Art Fair, And At Thy Birth, Dear Boy, Nature And Fortune Join'd To Make Thee Great: Of Nature's Gifts Thou Mayst With Lilies Boast, And With The Half-blown Rose; But Fortune, O!