Four choruses in old sonata form

Fairest if it be your pleasure
To enrich me by your treasure
Of sweet comfort and deliciousness
I will serve thee as my mistress
Let me not die, nor from thee sever;
For no desire have I but fully
Thee to serve most loyally
Myself to spare no pain or sadness
Fairest if it be your pleasure
To enrich me by your treasure
Of sweet comfort and deliciousness

If it should please thee to accomplish
And for me alone to banish
With your most sweet and gentle youth
This denial which wounds in truth
Thou can'st heal me by your treasure
Fairest if it be your pleasure.

Heralds of summer are here
Their abode to garnish anew,
And softest carpets do appear,
Of grasses green and flow'ry tissue.

A velvet carpet doth appear,
O'er all the land with verdant hue,
Heralds of summer are here
Their abode to garnish anew.

Listless hearts, long time so drear,
God be thanked, are sweet and gay;
For thou must go, hence take thy way,
Bleak Winter, thou must disappear!
Heralds of summer are here.

Within my book of Memory,
My heart found written there 
The hist'ry of its great despair,
Illumined was it tearfully.
Yet in effacing the most fair
Image of my love, with care,
Within my book of Memory,
My heart was still writ there.

Alas! my heart she ne'er will see?
Yet day and night incessantly,
My heart is crushed by misery,
Great drops fall on it ceaselessly,
Within my book of Memory.

When I was tangled in the skein
Of my most sweet and gentle Dame,
Then was I burn'd by candle light,
Like to the moth that flies by night:

I did blush with the glowing red
Of a spark flashed from a flame
When I was tangled in the skein
Of my most sweet and gentle Dame.

To be a bird could I but feign
And had I but two wings for flight,
I myself could have guarded quite
And not been wounded by love's pain.
When I was tangled in the skein.