Werkraum - Ornament | Текст песни

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• Werkraum
• Ornament

Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning breakes.
All the earth, all the ayre,
Of love and pleasure speakes.
Teach thine armes the to embrace,
And sweet rosie lips to kiss,
And mix our souls in mutuall blisse.

Eyes were made for beauties grace,
Viewing, ruing loves long pains,
Procur'd by beauties rude disdaine.

Come away, come sweet love,
The golden morning wastes,
While the Sunne from his sphere,
His fiery arrowes casts:
Making all the shadowes flie,
Playing, staying in the grove,
To entertaine the stealth of love.

Thither sweet love let us hie,
Flying, dying in desire,
Wingd with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire.

Come away, come sweet love,
Do not in vaine adorne
Beauties grace that should rise,
Like to the nated morne;
Lillies on the rivers side,
And faire Cyprian flowers new blowne,
Desire no beauties but their owne.

Ornament is nurse of pride,
Pleasure measure loves delight:
Haste then sweet love our wished flight.

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