[00:00.00]There is a garden in her face - Dorothy Linell/Steven Rickards
[00:01.03]Written by：ThomasCampion
[00:02.06]There is a garden in her face
[00:08.40]Where roses and white lilies grow
[00:15.64]A heav'nly paradise is that place
[00:24.53]Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow
[00:31.95]There cherries grow which none may buy
[00:37.72]Till cherry ripe till cherry ripe till cherry ripe
[00:42.59]Till ripe ripe ripe till ripe till ripe themselves do cry
[00:54.33]Those cherries fairly do enclose
[01:00.58]Of orient pearl a double row
[01:07.33]Which when her lovely laughter shows
[01:14.63]They look like rose buds fill'd with snow
[01:23.31]Yet them nor peer nor prince can buy
[01:29.40]Till cherry ripe till cherry ripe till cherry ripe
[01:34.04]Cherry ripe ripe ripe till cherry ripe
[01:37.94]Cherry ripe themselves do cry
[01:46.42]Her eyes like angels watch them still
[01:53.96]Her brows like bended bows do stand
[02:01.37]Threat'ning with piercing frowns to kill
[02:09.66]All that attempt with eye or hand
[02:17.40]Those sacred cherries to come nigh
[02:23.44]Till cherry ripe till cherry ripe till cherry ripe
[02:28.30]Cherry ripe ripe ripe cherry ripe cherry ripe themselves do cry