Summer for the Dames 歌词

	作曲 : Enchantment, Jones
	Inbossom my head forth, lead me into silent poetry
	Wretchedness leaves my eyes desired
	As labouring claims those golden hairs
	Come appetise my tongue to heavenly moistures
	Do lend a breast to gaze upon
	Have in summers past all pleasures
	Or be them winded in my forehead (fill your dowry needs)
	Sleepless (the sound of crashing waves)
	Make thyself aroused to a flood of tears
	In streaks of day, when owls do cry
	And fables tread the primrose path
	All that bares in fruit
	Sits under the bough that blossoms
	Coral lips with a pleasing tale
	Touches as a flower with frost
	Have like twenty kisses and bide where the billows spoke
	Harrow me up with glutton lips, make good the yeast
	Endeaver thyself as a whore
	Then I'll take towards no pity
	O sweet dames like infants of the spring

	zuo qu : Enchantment, Jones
	Inbossom my head forth, lead me into silent poetry
	Wretchedness leaves my eyes desired
	As labouring claims those golden hairs
	Come appetise my tongue to heavenly moistures
	Do lend a breast to gaze upon
	Have in summers past all pleasures
	Or be them winded in my forehead fill your dowry needs
	Sleepless the sound of crashing waves
	Make thyself aroused to a flood of tears
	In streaks of day, when owls do cry
	And fables tread the primrose path
	All that bares in fruit
	Sits under the bough that blossoms
	Coral lips with a pleasing tale
	Touches as a flower with frost
	Have like twenty kisses and bide where the billows spoke
	Harrow me up with glutton lips, make good the yeast
	Endeaver thyself as a whore
	Then I' ll take towards no pity
	O sweet dames like infants of the spring

	zuò qǔ : Enchantment, Jones
	Inbossom my head forth, lead me into silent poetry
	Wretchedness leaves my eyes desired
	As labouring claims those golden hairs
	Come appetise my tongue to heavenly moistures
	Do lend a breast to gaze upon
	Have in summers past all pleasures
	Or be them winded in my forehead fill your dowry needs
	Sleepless the sound of crashing waves
	Make thyself aroused to a flood of tears
	In streaks of day, when owls do cry
	And fables tread the primrose path
	All that bares in fruit
	Sits under the bough that blossoms
	Coral lips with a pleasing tale
	Touches as a flower with frost
	Have like twenty kisses and bide where the billows spoke
	Harrow me up with glutton lips, make good the yeast
	Endeaver thyself as a whore
	Then I' ll take towards no pity
	O sweet dames like infants of the spring

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