So now is come our joyful’st feast;
Let every man be jolly;
Each room with ivy-leaves is drest,
And every post with holly.
Though some churls at our mirth repine,
Round your foreheads garlands twine,
Drown sorrow in a cup of wine,
And...
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Now gentle sleep hath closèd up those eyes |
From “Fair Virtue” |
Hymn and Prayer for the Use of Believers LORD! when those glorious lights I see |