Where's the face / One would meet in every place? / Where's the voice, however soft, / One would hear so very oft?

Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.

Now a soft kiss -- Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, / Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs.

Wedlock, indeed, hath oft compared been -To public feasts, where meet a public rout - Where they are without would fain go in, And they that are within would fain go out

Parting they seemed to tread upon the air,/ Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart / Only to meet again more close.