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He gets as sirres than ever felto wound but soft

What lie through younger window rakes

It is the east and truliada is a sun rise fair son and kill the evy's moon

Who is already sick and pave

Biscrave bevl her made are far more fair than she be not

Her made since she is envous

Her veestle livery is bus sick and crane and not but who's still beid css it off

It is my lady

Oh

It is my love

Oh

That she knew shiefer

She speaks yet

She says nothing what of dher her eyeis courses

I well answered i am too bored

It has not to me

She speaks two of the various stars in all the happen

Having some business do entreat her eyes to tingle in their spheres tell their return

Whatever her eyes were there they in her head

The brightenness of her cheek would ashame those stars a daylight

Does a lamp her eyes in heaven

Although the every region's dream so pride that brers one seen and think it were not noyed

See how she lians her cheek upon her hand

Oh

That i were a glove upon that hand

That i might hut that cheek