Take, o take those lips away,
That so sweetly [were]1 forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights [that]2 do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again;
Seals of love, [but]3 seal'd in vain, sealed in vain.

Hide, o hide those hills of snow
that thy frozen bosom wears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow
are yet of those that April wears;
But first set my poor heart free,
Bound in those icy chains by thee.

F. Ayres sets stanza 1
R. Quilter sets stanza 1
P. Warlock sets stanza 1 in (at least) one setting - see below for more information
W. Fortner sets stanza 1
N. Lee sets stanza 1
H. Gál sets stanza 1
S. Gerber sets stanza 1
J. Kaufer sets stanza 1
W. Jackson sets stanza 1
J. Hall sets stanza 1

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)
Note: quoted by John Fletcher, in Bloody Brother, 1639 and by William Shakespeare, in Measure for Measure, Act IV, scene 1, c1604 (just one stanza)
¹ Bishop: "are"
² Bishop: "which"
³ Bishop: "tho'"

Text Authorship:

• by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
• sometimes misattributed to William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

See other settings of this text.

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

• CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , copyright © 2024, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• DUT Dutch (Nederlands) (L. A. J. Burgersdijk)
• FIN Finnish (Suomi) (Paavo Cajander)
• FRE French (Français) (Guy Laffaille) , copyright © 2011, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• GER German (Deutsch) (Sarah L. Weller) , "Nimm, so nimm doch Deine Lippen fort", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
• POL Polish (Polski) (Jan Kasprowicz) , "Śpiew Pacholęcia", Warsaw, first published 1907

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2003-11-04
Line count: 12
Word count: 82

Wend', o wende diesen Blick,
dem Aurora dämmert nur!
Und die Lippe zeich zurück,
voll so süßem falschen Schwur;
meine Treu nur, oft, ach! Ihr
aufgeküßt, gieb -- wieder mir!

Hüll, o hüll den Busen zart,
wo auf Hügeln Schnee und kalt
Knospen blühen -- ach! der Art,
wie April sie niederwallt.
In des kalten Eises Schoos
Liegt mein Herz; ach! gieb mir's los!