Third book, 15: Weep you no more, sad fountains. [Italian translation]

Weep you no more, sad fountains;

What need you flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains

Heav'n's sun doth gently waste.

But my sun's heav'nly eyes

View not your weeping

That now lies sleeping,

Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that Peace begets.

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at e'en he sets

Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,

Melt not in weeping

While she lies sleeping,

Softly, softly, now softly lies sleeping.