时间：1976-01-01
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Away with these self loving lads
Whom cupid's arrow never glads
Away
Poor souls that sigh and weep
In love of those that lie and sleep
For cupid is a meadow god
And forceth none to kiss the rod
For cupid is a meadow god
And forceth none to kiss the rod
God cupids shaft
Like destiny
Doth either good or ill decree
Desert is born out of his bow
Reward upon his foot doth go
What fools are they that have not known
That love like no laws but his own
What fools are they that have not known
That love like no laws but his own
My songs that be of cynthia's praise
I wear her rings on holidays
On every tree I write her name
And ev'ry day I read the same
Where honour cupid's rival is
There miracles are seen of his
Where honour cupid's rival is
There miracles are seen of his
If cynthia crave her ring of me
I blot her name out of a tree
If doubt do darken things held dear
Then well fare nothing once a year
For many run but one must win
Fools only hedge the cuckoo in
For many run but one must win
Fools only hedge the cuckoo in
The worth that worthiness should move is love
Which is the bow of love
And love as well the foster can
As can the mighty noble man
Sweet saint
'Tis true you worhty be
Yet without love naught worth to me
Sweet saint
'Tis true you worhty be
Yet without love naught worth to me
Fools only hedge the cuckoo in
