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Flow my tears

John Dowland (1563-1626)

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Flow my tears fall from your springs exiled for ever
Let me mourn where nights black bird her sad infamy sings, there let me live for lorn.
Daown vain lights, shine you no more, no night is 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, for my deserts, are hops since hope is gone.
Hark you shadows that in darkness dwell, learn to contemne light, happy they that in hell feel not the world's despite.