O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.
You stars that reigned at my nativity, whose influence hath allotted death and hell.
Fools that will laugh on earth, most weep in hell.
Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That valleys, groves, hills, and fields, Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
Love me little, love me long.
All live to die, and rise to fall.