Thomas Weelkes - Hark, all ye lovely saints above - текст песни (слова)

Hark, all ye lovely saints above
 Diana hath agreed with Love,
 His fiery weapon to remove.
 Fa la la.
 Do you not see
 How they agree?
 Then cease fair ladies; why weep ye?
 Fa la la.
 
 See, see, your mistress bids you cease,
 And welcome Love, with love's increase,
 Diana hath procured your peace.
 Fa la la.
 Cupid hath sworn
 His bow forlorn
 To break and burn, ere ladies mourn.
 Fa la la.