V. To bed, to bed she cals and neuer ceaseth
To bed, to bed she cals and neuer ceaseth
To bed, to bed she cals and neuer ceaseth, Which words doe pierce and grieue
my hartfull sore, to bed, to bed I say, I say, my paine encreaseth, Yet ile to bed, and trouble you no more, Goodnight sweet hart, goodnight my deere, to bed I must be
gone, and being there, ile muse on thee alone good
night sweet hart, goodnight my deere, to bed I must bee gone, and being there, being
there, and being there, and being there, Ile muse on thee alone.