Come away, come sweet love, The golden morning breaks. All the earth, all the air of love and pleasure speaks: Teach thine arms to embrace, And sweet rosy lips to kiss, And mix our souls in mutual bliss, Eyes were made for beauty's grace, Viewing, rueing love's long pain Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain. Come away, come sweet love, The golden morning wastes, While the sun from his sphere his fiery arrows casts, Making all the shadows fly, Playing, Staying in the grove To entertain the stealth of love. Thither, sweet love, let us hie, Flying, dying in desire Wing'd with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire. Come away, come sweet love, Do not in vain adorn Beauty's grace, that should rise like to the naked morn. Lilies on the riverside And the fair Cyprian flow'rs newblown Desire no beauties but their own, Ornament is nurse of pride, Pleasure, measure love's delight. Haste then, sweet love, our wished flight!
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by John Dowland (1562 - 1626), "Come away, come sweet love", published 1597, from First Book of Songs or Airs [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 30
Word count: 158