William Horsley - Slow fresh fount - текст песни (слова)

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; 
 O slower yet, O fainter gentle springs: 
 List to the heavy part the music bears, 
 Woe weeps out her division, when she sings.
 Droop herbs and flowers; 
 Fall grief in showers; 
 Our beauty is not ours;
 O, could I still,
 Like melting snow upon some craggy hill, 
 Fall down, fall down, fall down
 Since summer's pride is now a withered daffodil.  

 NB. The set text (above) seems to be Horsley's slight variation of Ben Jonson's original poem:  Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears ;
 Yet slower, yet ; O faintly gentle springs :
 List to the heavy part the music bears,
 Woe weeps out her division, when she sings.
 Droop herbs and flowers ;
 Fall grief in showers ;
 Our beauties are not ours ;
 O, I could still,
 Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
 Drop, drop, drop, drop,
 Since nature's pride is, now, a withered daffodil.