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Love is Dead, All Love is Dead
by
Lingua Ignota
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Ring out your bells Ring out your bells Let mourning shows be spread For love is dead, all love is dead Infected with plague of deep disdain Worth as nought worth, rejected And faith, fair scorn doth gain Weep neighbours weep, Do you hear it said Love is dead His deathbed, peac*cks folly His winding sheet is shame His will, false seeming holy His sole executor, blame Let dirge be sung and trentals rightly read For love is dead So on his tomb ordaineth My mistress' marble heart Which epitath containeth "Her eyes were once his dart" Alas I lie, rage hath his arrow bred Love is not dead Love is not dead but sleeping In her unmatched mind Were she his council keeping? Till do desert she find
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