Mistress, Juliet! Fie, you slug-a-bed!
Why, love, sweetheart, what not a word?
How sound is she asleep?
I needs must wake her up
Will it not be? Lady, lady, lady!
My lady is dead! O lamentable day!
Let me see her, out, alas, she's cold; her blood is settled
Life and this lips have separated
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, ties up my tongue, makes my speech fail
Ready to go to church, but never return, death is my son-in-law, death is my heir
My daughter he hath wedded; I will die and leave him all, life, living, all is Death's
Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! O child, O child, my soul and not my child!
Dead art thou; alack my child is dead and with my child my joys are buried
All things that we ordained festival, turn their office to black funeral
Literature Through Music - My Lady Is Dead (Nurse & Capulet) Lyrics
Literature Through Music - My Lady Is Dead (Nurse & Capulet) Lyrics
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Mistress, Juliet! Fie, you slug-a-bed!
Why, love, sweetheart, what not a word?
How sound is she asleep?
I needs must wake her up
Will it not be? Lady, lady, lady!
My lady is dead! O lamentable day!
Let me see her, out, alas, she's cold; her blood is settled
Life and this lips have separated
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, ties up my tongue, makes my speech fail
Ready to go to church, but never return, death is my son-in-law, death is my heir
My daughter he hath wedded; I will die and leave him all, life, living, all is Death's
Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! O child, O child, my soul and not my child!
Dead art thou; alack my child is dead and with my child my joys are buried
All things that we ordained festival, turn their office to black funeral
Why, love, sweetheart, what not a word?
How sound is she asleep?
I needs must wake her up
Will it not be? Lady, lady, lady!
My lady is dead! O lamentable day!
Let me see her, out, alas, she's cold; her blood is settled
Life and this lips have separated
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, ties up my tongue, makes my speech fail
Ready to go to church, but never return, death is my son-in-law, death is my heir
My daughter he hath wedded; I will die and leave him all, life, living, all is Death's
Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! O child, O child, my soul and not my child!
Dead art thou; alack my child is dead and with my child my joys are buried
All things that we ordained festival, turn their office to black funeral
Writer: Rob McGlade
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid