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.]

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears read more

Or did the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

Come, sing now, sing; for I know you sing well;
I see you have a singing face.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

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.

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.

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In read more

The tenor's voice is spoilt by affectation,
And for the bass, the beast can only bellow;
In fact, he had no singing education,
An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow.

Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing read more

Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing in a hempen string
Under the gallow-tree.