English Lyrics, Fifth Set

I went a-hunting with Queen Dian's maids; --
Our sandals, bright with dew,
Swept through the grass, and down the list'ning glades
Our hounds beside us flew;
On swept the chase, but I stood gazing there
Poor wounded doe beside a thorn-tree fair.
For there, with fallen blossoms on his head,
I spied the sleeping boy.
The chase had left me breath, but now ot fled,
For pain of too great joy;
I panted so, the throng; that crossed my breast
And held my quiver, hurt me where it pressed.
I could not tell if he did smile or frown
For shadow's fickle play
On brow and cheek, and on his lip like down
A loving shadow lay.
And there I set my lips
Ah, joy and woe!
For now no more a hunting may I go,
No more a hunting may I go.

Proud Maisie is in the wood,
Walking so early,
Sweet Robin sits on the bush,
Singing so rarely.
"Tell me, thou bonny bird,
When shall I marry me?"
"When six braw gentlemen
Kirkward shall carry ye."

"Who makes the bridal bed,
Birdie, say truly?"
"The grey-headed sexton
That delves the grave duly.
The glow-worm o'er grave and stone
Shall light thee steady;
The owl from the steeple sing,
`Welcome, proud lady.'"

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Youth is full of [pleasance]1, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is young!
Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.

Lay a garland on my hearse,
  Of the dismal yew,
Maidens, willow branches [bear]1,
  Say I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm
  [From my hour of birth;]2
Upon my buried body lie
  Lightly, [gentle]3 earth.

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Sleep, sleep,
Sleep, sleep !
All nature now is steeping
Her sons in sleep,
their eylids close,
All living things in sweet repose
Are sleeping, sleeping !

Sleep, baby, sleep !
Peace o'er thee watch be keeping,
If from my bosom thou art torn,
Low in grave I'll lie forlorn.
Sleeping, Ah !
sleeping, sleeping.