Текст песни Thomas Morley — In dew of roses

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 me because I love thee.
Ay me, thou scornst the more I pray thee,
And this thou dost to slay me.
But do, then do kill me and vaunt thee.
Yet my ghost still shall haunt thee.