come, let me sing into your ear, those dancing days are gone
all that silk and satin gear, crouch upon a stone
wrapping that foul body up in as foul a rag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
curse as you may i sing it through, what matter if the knave
that the most could pleasure you, the children that he gave
are somewhere sleeping like a top under a marble flag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
come, let me sing into your ear
i thought it out this very day, noon upon the clock
all that silk and satin gear
a man may put pretence away, who leans upon a stick
may sing and sing until he drop, whether to maid or hag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
come, let me sing into your ear, those dancing days are gone
all that silk and satin gear, crouch upon a stone
wrapping that foul body up in as foul a rag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
come, let me sing into your ear, those dancing days are gone
all that silk and satin gear, crouch upon a stone
wrapping that foul body up in as foul a rag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
curse as you may i sing it through, what matter if the knave
that the most could pleasure you, the children that he gave
are somewhere sleeping like a top under a marble flag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
come, let me sing into your ear
i thought it out this very day, noon upon the clock
all that silk and satin gear
a man may put pretence away, who leans upon a stick
may sing and sing until he drop, whether to maid or hag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag
come, let me sing into your ear, those dancing days are gone
all that silk and satin gear, crouch upon a stone
wrapping that foul body up in as foul a rag
i carry the sun in a golden cup, the moon in a silver bag