Montag, 12. November 2007
John Dowland
rabe489, 23:27h
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 lost 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.
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 lost 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.
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by rabe489 (Fr, 26. Okt, 16:45)
