John Dowland
Come again, sweet love doth now invite
Come again!
Sweet love doth now invite
Thy graces that refrain
To do me due delight
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die
With thee again in sweetest sympathy
Come again!
That I may cease to mourn
Through thy unkind disdain;
For now left and forlorn
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain and endless misery
All the day
The sun that lends me shine
By frowns do cause me pine
And feeds me with delay;
Her smiles, my springs that makes my joys to grow
Her frowns the Winters of my woe
All the night
My sleeps are full of dreams
My eyes are full of streams
My heart takes no delight
To see the fruits and joys that some do find
And mark the storms are me assign'd
Out alas
My faith is ever true
Yet will she never rue
Nor yield me any grace;
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made
Whom tears nor truth may once invade
Gentle Love
Draw forth thy wounding dart
Thou canst not pierce her heart;
For I, that do approve
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts
Did tempt while she for triumph laughs