Welcome, welcome, do I sing,

Welcome, welcome, do I sing, Far more welcome than the spring; He that parteth from you never Shall enjoy a spring for ever. Love, that to the voice is near Breaking from your iv'ry pale, Need not walk abroad to hear The delightful nightingale. Welcome, welcome, then I sing, Far more welcome than the spring; He that parteth from you never Shall enjoy a spring for ever. Love, that looks still on your eyes, Though the winter have begun To benumb our arteries, Shall not want the summer's sun. Welcome, welcome, then I sing, &c. Love that still may see your cheeks, Where all rareness still reposes, Is a fool, if e'er he seeks Other lilies, other roses. Welcome, welcome, &c. Love, to whom your soft lip yields, And perceives your breath in kissing, All the odours of the fields Never, never shall be missing. Welcome, welcome, &c. Love, that question would anew What fair Eden was of old, Let him rightly study you, And a brief of that behold. Welcome, welcome, then I, &c.