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Thomas Campion
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What If a Day
What if a day, or a month, or a yeare Crown thy delights with a thousand sweet contentings? Cannot a chance of a night or an howre Crosse thy desires with as many sad tormentings?
Fortune, honor, beauty, youth Are but blossoms dying; Wanton pleasure, doating love, Are but shadowes flying. All our joyes are but toyes, Idle thoughts deceiving; None have power of an howre In their lives bereaving.
Earthes but a point to the world, and a man Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Is but a point to the worlds compared centure: Shall then a point of a point be so vaine As to triumph in a seely points adventure?
All is hassard that we have, There is nothing biding; Dayes of pleasure are like streames Through faire meadowes gliding. Weale and woe, time doth goe, Time is ever turning: Secret fates guide our states, Both in mirth and mourning
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