FAIR daffodils, we weep to see
  You haste away so soone;
As yet the early-rising sun
  Has not attained his noone.
        Stay, stay,  
  Until the hastening day
        Has run
  But to the even-song;
And having prayed together, we
  Will goe with you along.      

We have short time to stay as you,
  We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth, to meet decay,
  As you or anything.
        We die,   
  As your hours doe, and drie
  Like to the summer’s raine,
Or as the pearless of morning’s dew,
  Ne’er to be found again.   





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