come let me sing into your ear those dancing days are gone all the silk and satin gear crouch upon a stone wrapping that foul body up in as foul a rag i carry the sun in a golden cup the moon in a silver bag i carry the sun in a golden cup the moon in a silver bag curse as you may i sing it through what matter if the knave that the most could pleasure you the children that he gave are somewhere sleeping like a top under a marble flag i carry the sun in a golden cup the moon in a silver bag i carry the sun in a golden cup the moon in a silver bag i thought it out this very day noon upon the clock a man may put pretence away who leans upon a stick may sing and sing until he drop whether to maid or hag i carry the sun in a golden cup the moon in a silver bag