Think'st Thou Then by Thy Feigning - Noël Akchoté, Джон Доуленд

Think’st thou then by thy feigning

Sleep, with a proud disdaining

Or with thy crafty closing

Thy cruel eyes reposing

To drive me from my sight

When sleep yields more delight

Such harmless beauty gracing

And while sleep feigned is

May not I steal a kiss

Thy quiet arms embracing

O that my sleep dissembled

Were to a trance resembled

Thy cruel eyes deceiving

Of lively sense bereaving:

Then should my love requite

Thy love’s unkind despite

While fury triumph’d boldly

In beauty sweet disgrace:

And Liv’d in sweet embrace

Of her that lov’d so coldly

Should then my love aspiring

Forbidden joys desiring

So far exceed the duty

That virtue owes to beauty?

No Love seek no thy bliss

Beyond a simple kiss:

For such deceits are harmless

Yet kiss a thousand-fold

For kisses may be bold

When lovely sleep in armless