Come, let me sing into your ear; br Those dancing days are gone, br All that silk and satin gear; br Crouch upon a stone, br Wrapping that foul body up br In as foul a rag: br I carry the sun in a golden cup. br The moon in a silver bag. br br Curse as you may I sing it through; br What matter if the knave br That the most could pleasure you, br The children that he gave, br Are somewhere sleeping like a top br Under a marble flag? br I carry the sun in a golden cup. br The moon in a silver bag. br br I thought it out this very day. br Noon upon the clock, br A man may put pretence away br Who leans upon a stick, br May sing, and sing until he drop, br Whether to maid or hag: br I carry the sun in a golden cup, br The moon in a silver bag.