Rowland's Madrigal

Fair Love, rest thee here,
Never yet was morn so clear ;
Sweet, be not unkind,
Let me thy favour find,
Or else for love I die.
Hark this pretty bubbling spring,
How it makes the meadows ring !
Love, now stand my friend.
Here let all sorrow end,
And I will honour thee.
See where little Cupid lies,
Looking babies in her eyes !
Cupid, help me now,
Lend to me thy bow.

To wound her that wounded me.
Here is none to see or tell.
All our flocks are feeding by ;
This bank with roses spread,
Oh, it is a dainty bed,
Fit for my love and me.

Hark the birds in yonder grove,
How they chant unto my love !
Love, be kind to me,
As I have been to thee,
For thou hast won my heart.
Calm winds, blow you fair,
Rock hel', thou sweet gentle air ;
Oh, the morn is noon.
The evening comes too soon,
To part my love and me.
The roses and thy lips do meet ;
Oh, that life were half so sweet !
Who would respect his breath.
That might die such a death ?

Oh, that life thus might die !
All the bushes that be near.
With sweet nightingales beset :
Hush, sweet ! and be still,
Let them sing their fill.
There's none our joys to let.

Sun, why dost thou go so fast ?
Oh, why dost thou make such haste ?
It is too early yet.
So soon from joys to flit.
Why art thou so unkind ?
See my little lambkins run.
Look on them till I have done ;
Haste not on the night.
To rob me of her sight.

That live but by her eyes.
Alas ! sweet love, we must depart ;
Hark, my dog begins to bark !
Somebody's coming near ;
They shall not find us here,
For fear of being chid.
Take my garland and my glove,
Wear it for my sake, my love.
To-morrow on the green.
Thou shalt be our shepherds' queen,
Crown'd with roses gay.