You Blessed Bowers
You blessëd bowers, whose green leaves now are spreading,
Shadow the sunshine from my mistress' face.
And you, sweet roses, only for her bedding
When weary she doth take her resting-place
You fair white lilies, and pretty flowers all,
Give your attendance at my lovers call.
Shadow the sunshine from my mistress' face.
And you, sweet roses, only for her bedding
When weary she doth take her resting-place
You fair white lilies, and pretty flowers all,
Give your attendance at my lovers call.
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