In Fountain Court
The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
The flickering green of leaves that keep The light of June;
Peace, through a slumbering afternoon,
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The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
The flickering green of leaves that keep The light of June;
Peace, through a slumbering afternoon,
I
To one fair lady out of Court,
And two fair ladies in,
Who think the Turk and Pope a sport,
Like truthless dreams, so are my joys expir'd,
And past return are all my dandled days;
My love misled, and fancy quite retir'd— Of all which pass'd the sorrow only stays
My lost delights, now clean from sight of land,
Queen Virtue's court, which some call Stella's face,
Prepar'd by Nature's choicest furniture,
Hath his front built of alabaster pure;
Gold in the covering of that stately place