歌词
Flow my teares fall from your springs,
Exilde forever：Let me morne
Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorne.
Downe vaine lights shine you no more,
No nights are dark enough for those
That in dispaire their last fortunes deplore,
Light doth but shame disclose.
Never may my woes be relieved,
Since pittie is fled,
And teares, and sighes, and grones
My wearie days
My wearie days of all joyes have deprived
From the highest spire of contentment,
My fortune is throwne,
And feare, and griefe, and paine
For my deserts
For my deserts, are my hopes since hope is gone
Hark you shadowes that in darnesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy
Happy
Thy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.
Hark you shadowes that in darnesse dwell,
Learn to contemne light,
Happy
Happy
Thy that in hell
Feele not the worlds despite.