(John Dowland)

Flow my tears fall from your springs,
Exilde for ever: Let me mourne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.

Down vain lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispair their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.

Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pitty is fled,
And tears, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived.

From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is thrown,
And fear, and grief, and pain
For my deserts,
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone.

Hark you shadows that in darkness dwell,
Learn to condemn light,
Happy, happy be that in hell
Feel not the worlds despite.

Hark you shadows that in darkness dwell,
Learn to condemn light,
Happy, happy be that in hell
Feel not the worlds despite.
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Thanks to (Juan Pérez) for correcting these lyrics. Apr 13, 2008

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