Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need 1 flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven's sun doth gently waste!
But my sun's heavenly eyes
View not your weeping,
That now lies sleeping,
2 lies
Sleeping.
Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets;
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at 3 he sets?
Rest you, then, rest, sad eyes!
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping,
2 lies
Sleeping.
Writer(s): Patrick Doyle
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