Love Is Dead, All Love Is Dead

Ring out your bells
 Ring out your bells
 Let mourning shows be spread
 For love is dead
 All love is dead
 Infected with plague of deep disdain
 Worth as nought worth, rejected
 And faith, fair scorn doth gain
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 Weep neighbours weep
 Do you not hear it said?
 Love is dead
 His deathbed, peacocks folly
 His winding sheet is shame
 His will, false seeming holy
 His sole executor, blame
 Let dirge be sung and trentals rightly read
 For love is dead
 So on his tomb ordaineth
 My mistress' marble heart
 Which epitath containeth
 "Her eyes were once his dart"
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 Alas I lie
 Rage hath his arrow bred
 Love is not dead
 Love is not dead but sleeping
 In her unmatched mind
 Were she his council keeping?
 Till do desert she find
 Therefore from vile fancy
 To call such a frenzy
 Who love can temper thus
 Good Lord, deliver us
 Ring out your bells
 Let mourning shows be spread
 For love is dead
 All love is dead
 Infected with plague of deep disdain
 Worth as nought worth, rejected
 And faith, fair scorn doth gain