Poetry Archives

Weep you no more, sad fountains;
  What need you flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
  Heaven’s sun doth gently waste!
But my Sun’s heavenly eyes
    View not your weeping,
    That now lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
        Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,
  A rest that peace begets;
Doth not the sun rise smiling
  When fair at even he sets?
Rest you then, rest, sad eyes!
    Melt not in weeping,
    While she lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
        Sleeping.