1 Sleep wayward thoughts,and rest you with my love,
Let not my Love be with my love diseas`d.
Touch not proud hands, least you her anger move,
But pine you with my longings displeas`d.
Thus... ×èòàòü äàëüøå
1 Sleep wayward thoughts,and rest you with my love,
Let not my Love be with my love diseas`d.
Touch not proud hands, least you her anger move,
But pine you with my longings displeas`d.
Thus while she sleeps I sorrow for her sake,
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.

2 But on the fury of my restless fear,
The hidden anguish of my flesh desires,
The glories and the beauties that appear,
Between her brows near Cupid`s closed fires
Thus while she sleeps I sorrow for her sake,
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.

3 My love doth rage, and yet my Love doth rest,
Fear in my love, and yet my Love secure,
Peace in my Love, and yet my love oppress`d,
Impatient yet of perfect temperature,
Sleep dainty Love, while I sigh for thy sake,
So sleeps my Love, and yet my love doth wake.

Õ Ñâåðíóòü

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597): ¹13 `Sleep, wayward thoughts`,  (Äîóëåíä)
       
 
     
Íàøè êîíòàêòû