65. Tears
John Dowland's Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs, 1603
Weep you no more, sad fountains; What need you flow so fast? Look how the snowy mountains Heaven's sun doth gently waste! But my Sun's heavenly eyes View not your weeping, That now lies sleeping Softly, now softly lies Sleeping. Sleep is a reconciling, A rest that peace begets; Doth not the sun rise smiling When fair at even he sets? Rest you then, rest, sad eyes! Melt not in weeping, While she lies sleeping Softly, now softly lies Sleeping.
66. My Lady's Tears
John Dowland's Third and Last
Book of Songs or Airs, 1603
I saw my Lady weep,
And Sorrow proud to be advancèd 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.
