Thomas Bateson - Ah, Cupid grant that I may never see - текст песни (слова)

Ah, Cupid grant that I may never see
 her through mine ear that thus hath wounded me,
 if through mine eyes another wound she give,
 Cupid, alas, then I no longer live,
 but die, poor wretch, shot through and through the liver,
 with those sharp arrows she stole from thy quiver.