Let us now sing of Loves delight
Let us now sing of Loves delight,
For he alone is Lord to night.
Some friendship betweene man and man prefer,
But I th' affection betweene man and wife.
What good can be in life,
Whereof no fruites appeare?
Set is that Tree in ill houre,
That yeilds neither fruite nor flowre.
How can man Perpetuall be,
But in his owne Posteritie?
CHORUS.
That pleasure is of all most bountifull and kinde,
That fades not straight, but leaves a living Joy behinde.
For he alone is Lord to night.
Some friendship betweene man and man prefer,
But I th' affection betweene man and wife.
What good can be in life,
Whereof no fruites appeare?
Set is that Tree in ill houre,
That yeilds neither fruite nor flowre.
How can man Perpetuall be,
But in his owne Posteritie?
CHORUS.
That pleasure is of all most bountifull and kinde,
That fades not straight, but leaves a living Joy behinde.
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