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First Book of Songs or Ayres: No. 1, Come Again! Sweet Love Doth Now Invite
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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
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
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, the winters of my woe
Her smiles, my springs that makes my joys to grow
Her frowns the winters, 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, the storms are me assigned
To see the fruits and joys that some do find
And mark the storms, the storms are me assigned
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, nor truth may once invade
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made
Whom tears nor truth, nor truth may once invade
Gentle Love, draw forth thy wounding dart
Thou canst not pierce her heart
For I, that to approve
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts
Did tempt, while she for triumph laughs
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts
Did tempt, while she for triumph laughs