Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn;
Where night`s black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.
Down vain lights, shine you no more!
No...
×èòàòü äàëüøå
Äæîí Äîóëåíä (1563–1626)
The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600): ¹ 2 `Flow my tears` Ñêà÷àòü íîòû
Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn; Where night`s black bird her sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorn. Down vain lights, shine you no more! No... ×èòàòü äàëüøå
Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn; Where night`s black bird her sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorn. Down vain lights, shine you no more! No nights 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 Are my hopes, since hope is gone. Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell, Learn to condemn light Happy, happy they that in hell Feel not the world`s despite. Õ Ñâåðíóòü |
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