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letra de the king’s sonnet - love's labour's lost: the musical

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so sweet a kiss the golden sun gives not
to those fresh morning drops upon the rose
as thy eye-beams, when their fresh rays have smote
the night of dew that on my cheeks down flows:
nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
through the transparent bosom of the deep
as doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
thou shinest in every tear that i do weep:
no drop but as a coach doth carry thee;
so ridest thou triumphing in my woe
do but behold the tears that swell in me
and they thy glory through my grief will show:
but do not love thyself; then thou wilt keep
my tears for gl-sses, and still make me weep
o queen of queens! how far dost thou excel
no thought can think, nor tongue of mortal tell

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