The golden morning breaks.
 All the earth, all the air,
 Of love and pleasure speaks:
 Teach thine arms then to embrace,
 And sweet
 Rosy
 Lips to kiss,
 And mix our souls in mutual bliss.
 Eyes were made for beauty's grace,
 Viewing,
 Rueing.
 Love's long pain
 Procur'd by beauty's rude disdain.

 Come away , come sweet love,
 The golden morning wastes,
 While the sun from his spere,
 His fiery arrows casts:
 Making all the shadows fly,
 Playing,
 Staying
 In the grove,
 To entertain the stealth of love.
 Thither sweet love let us hie,
 Flying,
 Dying
 In desire,
 Wing'd with sweet hopes and heav'nly fire.

 Come away , come sweet love,
 Do not in vain adorn
 Beauty's grace , that should rise,
 Like to the naked morn:
 Lilies on the river's side,
 And fair
 Cyprian
 Flow'rs new-blown.
 Desire no beauties but their own.
 Ornament is nurse of pride,
 Pleasure
 Measure
 Love's delight:
 Haste then sweet love our wished flight