Come away, come, sweet love,
The golden morning breaks,
All the earth,
all the air
Of love and pleasure speaks,
Teach thine arms then to
embrace,
And sweet rosy lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
Viewing, rueing love's long pain,
Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain.
Come away, come, sweet love,
The golden morning wastes,
While the sun
from his sphere
His fiery arrows casts:
Making all the shadows fly,
Playing, staying in the grove,
To entertain the stealth of love,
Thither, sweet love, let us hie,
Flying, dying, in desire,
Wing'd
with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire.
Come away, come, sweet love,
Do not in vain adorn
Beauty's grace that
should rise
Like to the naked morn:
Lilies on the river's side,
And
fair Cyprian flowers new blown,
Desire no beauties but their own,
Ornament
is nurse of pride,
Pleasure, measure, love's delight,
Haste then, sweet
love, our wished flight.