Ben Jonson                 Song To Celia COME my CELIA, let us prove, While wee may, the sports of love; Time will not be ours for ever: He, at length, our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vaine. Sunnes that set, may rise againe: But, if once wee lose this light, 'Tis, with us, perpetuall night. Why should we deferre our joyes? Fame, and rumor are but toyes. Cannot we delude the eyes Of a few poore houshold spyes? Or his easier eares beguile, So removed by our wile? 'Tis no sinne, loves fruits to steale, But the sweet theft to reveale: To bee taken, to be seene, These have crimes accounted beene. 1606