Patrick Doyle Weep You No More Sad Fountains
Weep you no more, sad fountains;
What need [you]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,
[Softly now, softly]2 lies
Sleeping.
Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets;
Doth not the sun rise smiling
When fair at [e'en]3 he sets?
Rest you, then, rest, sad eyes!
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping,
[Softly now, softly]2 lies
Sleeping.
