Thou sleepest fast and I with woeful heart Stand here alone, sighing, and cannot fly. Thou sleepest fast when cruel love his dart On me doth cast, alas, so painfully. Thou sleepest fast and I, all full of smart, To thee, my foe, in vain do call and cry. And yet, methinks, thou that sleepest fast, Thou dreamest still which way my life to waste. |