Down In A Valley As Alexis Trips
J
John Wilbye
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Down in a valley as Alexis trips,
Daphne sat sweetly sleeping.
Soon as the wanton touch’d her ruddy lips,
She nicely falls aweeping.
The wag full softly lifts her,
And to and fro he sifts her:
But when nor sighs, Ah! nor kisses mov’d her pity,
Nor sighs could move her pity,
Nor tears could move her pity,
With plaints he warbles forth this mournful ditty.
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