Emma Lou Diemer - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade
Whеn in eternal lines to timе thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee
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Emma Lou Diemer - Under the rose‑tree's dancing shade
Under the rose-tree's dancing shade There stands a little ivory girl Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl With pale green nails of polished jade The red leaves fall upon
Emma Lou Diemer - Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more Men were deceivers ever; One foot in sea and one on shore; To one thing constant never Then sigh not so But let them go And be you
Emma Lou Diemer - O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear, your true love's coming That can sing both high and low Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in
Emma Lou Diemer - One Perfect Rose
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met All tenderly his messenger he chose; Deep-hearted, pure, with scented dew still wet -- One perfect rose I knew the language of
Emma Lou Diemer - Blame not my lute
Blame not my Lute! for he must sound Of this or that as liketh me; For lack of wit the Lute is bound To give such tunes as pleaseth me; Though my songs be somewhat strange
Emma Lou Diemer - Take, o take those lips away
Take, o take those lips away That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day Lights that do mislead the morn: But my kisses bring again; Seals of love, but
Emma Lou Diemer - Shall I compare thee to a summer's day
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
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Emma Lou Diemer
