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.

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.

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.

Hey! Mr. Tamborine Man, play a song for me.
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going read more

Hey! Mr. Tamborine Man, play a song for me.
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always read more

Olympian bards who sung
Divine ideas below,
Which always find us young
And always keep us so.

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the
thirst of his spirit.

So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the
thirst of his spirit.

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.

You know you haven't got a singing face.

You know you haven't got a singing face.