Sweetest the strain when in the song
The singer has been lost.

Sweetest the strain when in the song
The singer has been lost.

You know you haven't got a singing face.

You know you haven't got a singing face.

He who sings frightens away his ills.
[Sp., Quien canta, sus males espanta.]

He who sings frightens away his ills.
[Sp., Quien canta, sus males espanta.]

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing read more

Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.

They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]

They sing, they will pay.
[Fr., Ils chantent, ils payeront.]

His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.

His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.

Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes
And interchanged love tokens with my child;
Thou hast read more

Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes
And interchanged love tokens with my child;
Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung
With feigning voice verses of feigning love.

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the
thirst of his spirit.

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the
thirst of his spirit.

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
read more

Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.