John Dowland

Sweet, stay awhile; why will you rise?
The light you see comes from your eyes;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
To think that you and I must part.
O stay! or else my joys must die
And perish in their infancy.

Dear, let me die in this fair breast,
Far sweeter than the phœnix nest.
Love raise Desire by his sweet charms
Within this circle of thine arms!
And let thy blissful kisses cherish
Mine infant joys that else must perish.