AH Night! blind germ of days to be, Ah, me! ah me! (Sweet Venus, mother!) What wail of smitten strings hear we? (Ah me! ah me! @3Hey diddle dee!@1) Ravished by clouds our Lady Moon, Ah me! ah me! (Sweet Venus, mother!) If love but over-soar its mark (Ah me! ah me! @3Hey diddle dee!@1) What boots to fall again forlorn? Ah me! ah me! (Sweet Venus, mother!) Scorned by the grinning hound of scorn, (Ah me! ah me! @3Dum diddle dee!@1) Art thou not greater who art less? Ah me! ah me! (Sweet Venus, mother!) Low love fulfilled of low success? (Ah me! ah me! @3Hey diddle dee!@1) |