Twenty-Five Songs in Five Sets of Five Each: Set I , opus 50

I held Love's head while it did ache;
But so it chanced to be;
The cruel pain did his forsake,
And forwith came to me.

Ay me! how shall my grief be stilled?
Or where else shall we find
One like to me, who must be killed
For being too too kind?

Welcome, maids-of-honour!
You do bring
In the spring,
And wait upon her.

She has virgins many,
Fresh and fair;
Yet you are
More sweet than any.

You're the maiden posies,
And so grac'd
To be plac'd
'Fore damask roses.

Yet, though thus respected,
By-and-by
Ye do lie,
Poor girls, neglected.

Here a solemn fast we keep,
While all beauty lies asleep
Hush'd be all things -- no noise here -- 
But the toning of a tear:
Or a sigh of such as bring
Cowslips for her covering.

Reach, with your whiter hands, to me
Some crystal of the spring;
And I about the cup shall see
Fresh lilies flourishing.
Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this,
To th' glass your lips incline;
And I shall see by that one kiss
The water turn'd to wine.

Good speed, for I this day
Betimes my matins say:
Because I do
Begin to woo,
Sweet-singing lark,
Be thou the clerk,
And know thy when
To say, Amen.
And if I prove
Bless'd in my love,
Then thou shalt be
High-priest to me,
At my return,
To incense burn;
And so to solemnise
Love's and my sacrifice.