Thomas Morley - In dew of roses - текст песни (слова)

In dew of roses, steeping
 her lovely cheeks, Lycoris
 thus sat weeping.
 
 Ah Dorus false,
 that hast my heart bereft me,
 and now unkind hast left me:
 
 hear, alas hear O hear me;
 ay me, cannot my beauty move thee?
 Pity then, pity me because I love thee.
 
 Ay me, thou scornst the more I pray thee,
 and this thou dost to slay me.
 
 But do, ah do, then do kill me and vaunt thee.
 Yet my ghost still shall haunt thee.