Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.

Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.

There is a garden in her eyes, where roses and white lilies flow.

Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights.

Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o'erflow with wine; Let well-tuned words amaze With harmony divine.

Follow thy fair sun, unhappy shadow.

Kind are her answers, But her performance keeps no day; Breaks time, as dancers. From their own Music when they stray.