In Darkness Let Me Dwell7/26/2018 In darkness let me dwell; the ground shall sorrow be,
The roof despair, to bar all cheerful light from me; The walls of marble black, that moist'ned still shall weep; My music, hellish jarring sounds, to banish friendly sleep. Thus, wedded to my woes, and bedded to my tomb, O let me living die, till death doth come, till death doth come. My dainties grief shall be, and tears my poisoned wine, My sighs the air through which my panting heart shall pine, My robes my mind shall suit exceeding blackest night, My study shall be tragic thoughts sad fancy to delight, Pale ghosts and frightful shades shall my acquaintance be: O thus, my hapless joy, I haste to thee. His Golden Locks7/26/2018 His golden locks Time hath to silver turned.
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing: His youth 'gainst Time and Age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And lovers' sonnets turn to holy psalms. A man at arms must now serve on his knees, And feed on prayers which are Age's alms. And when he saddest sits in homely cell, He'll teach his swains this carol for a song: Beauty, Strength, Youth are flow'rs but fading seen. Duty, Faith and Love are roots and evergreen. Go Crystal Tears7/26/2018 Go crystal tears, like to the morning showers,
And sweetly weep into thy lady's breast. And as the dews revive the drooping flow'rs. So let your drops of pity be address'd To quicken up the thoughts of my desert, Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart. Haste, restless sighs, and let your burning breath Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart, Whose frozen rigour, like forgetful Death, Feels never any touch of my desert, Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes. I Saw My Lady Weep7/26/2018 I saw my lady weep,
And Sorrow proud to be advanced so, In those fair eyes where all perfections keep. Her face was full of woe, But such a woe believe me as wins more hearts, Than Mirth can do with her enticing parts. Sorrow was there made fair, And Passion wise, tears a delightful thing, Silence beyond all speech a wisdom rare. She made her sighs to sing, And all things with so sweet a sadness move, As made my heart at once both grieve and love. O fairer than aught else The world can show, leave off in time to grieve. Enough, your joyful looks excels. Tears kills the heart, believe; O strive not to be excellent in woe, Which only breeds your beauty's overthrow. Flow My Tears7/26/2018 Flow my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn; Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorn. Down vain lights, shine you no more! No nights are dark enough for those That in despair their last fortunes deplore. Light doth but shame disclose. Never may my woes be relieved, Since pity is fled; And tears and sighs and groans, My weary days of all joys have deprived. From the highest spire of contentment My fortune is thrown; And fear and grief and pain for my deserts are my hopes, since hope is gone. Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell, Learn to contemn light. Happy, happy they that in hell Feel not the world's despite. Shall I Sue?7/26/2018 Shall I sue? Shall I seek for grace? Shall I pray? Shall I prove?
Shall I strive to a heav'nly joy with an earthly love? Shall I think that a bleeding heart or a wounded eye, Or a sigh can ascend the clouds, to attain so high? Silly wretch, forsake these dreams of a vain desire, O bethink what high regard Holy hopes do require. Favour is as fair as things are, treasure is not bought, Favour is not won with words, nor the wish of a thought. Pity is but a poor defense for a dying heart Ladies eyes respect no moan in a mean desert. She is too worthy far for a worth so base Cruel, and but just is She, in my just disgrace. Justice gives each man his own, though my love be just, Yet will not she pity my grief, therefore die I must. Silly heart then yield to die, perish in despair, Witness yet how fain I die when I die for the fair. Come Again, Sweet Love Doth Now Invite7/26/2018 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. Sweet Stay A While7/26/2018 Sweet stay a while, why will you rise?
The light you see comes from your eyes: The day breaks not, it is my heart, To think that you and I must part. O stay, or else my joys must die, And perish in their infancy. Dear let me die in this fair breast, Far sweeter then the phoenix' next. Love raise desire by his sweet charms Within this circle of thine arms: And let thy blissful kisses cherish Mine infant joys, that else must perish. Clear or Cloudy7/26/2018 Clear or cloudy, sweet as April show'ring,
Smooth or frowning so is her face to me, Pleas'd or smiling like mild May all flow'ring When skies blue silk and meadows carpets be, Her speeches notes of that night-bird that singeth, Who thought all sweet yet jarring notes outringeth. Her grace like June, when earth and trees be trimm'd In best attire of complete beauty's height, Her love again like summer's days be dimm'd, With little clouds of doubtful constant faith, Her trust her doubt, like rain and heat in skies Gently thund'ring, she lightning to my eyes. Sweet Summer spring that breatheth life and growing, In weeds as into healing herbs and flow'rs, And seeds of service diverse sorts in sowing, Some haply seeming and some being yours, Rain on your herbs and flow'rs that truly serve, And let your weeds lack dew and duly starve. DowlandThese enduring poems demonstrate the extreme melancholic affection, popular in the time of Dowland at courts of powerful monarchs such as Queen Elizabeth I of England over 400 years ago. These pieces come alive in musical performance and emote an ironic humor by revealing both vague and blatant subtexts. Songs
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