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At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So read more
At every close she made, th' attending throng
Replied, and bore the burden of the song:
So just, so small, yet in so sweet a note,
It seemed the music melted in the throat.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.
Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul
And lap it in Elysium.
His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
He who sings frightens away his ills.
[Sp., Quien canta, sus males espanta.]
He who sings frightens away his ills.
[Sp., Quien canta, sus males espanta.]
He the sweetest of all singers.
He the sweetest of all singers.
That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on read more
That which is not worth speaking they sing.
[Fr., Ce qui ne vaut pas la peine d'etre dit, on le chante.]
Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing read more
Three merry boys, and three merry boys,
And three merry boys are we,
As ever did sing in a hempen string
Under the gallow-tree.
Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing read more
Every night he comes
With musics of all sorts, and songs composed
To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.
