Take, o take those lips away
That so sweetly [were]1 forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day
Lights [that]2 do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again;
Seals of love, [but]3 seal'd in vain, sealed in vain

Hide, o hide those hills of snow
That thy frozen bosom wears
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are yet of those that April wears;
But first set my poor heart free
Bound in those icy chains by thee