DOWLAND - Teksciory.pl

In Darkness Let Me Dwell - Sting

"(John Dowland) In darkness let me dwell; the ground shall sorrow be, The roof despair, to bar all cheerful light from me; The walls of marble black, that moist'ned still shall weep; My music, hellish"

Weep You No More, Sad Fountain - Sting

"(John Dowland) Weep you no more, sad fountains; What need you flow so fast? Look how the snowy mountains Heav'n's sun doth gently waste. But my sun's heav'nly eyes View not your weeping That now lies"

The Lowest Trees Have Tops - Sting

"(John Dowland) The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall The fly her spleen, the little spark his heat; The slender hairs cast shadows, through but small, And bees have stings, although they be not"

Come, Heavy Sleep - Sting

"(John Dowland) Come heavy sleepe the image of true death; And close up these my weary weeping eyes: Whose spring of tears doth stop my vitall breath, And tears my hart with sorrows sigh swoln cries: Come"

Come Again - Sting

"(John Dowland) 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. Come again! that"

Flow, My Tears (Lachrimae) - Sting

"(John Dowland) Flow my teares fall from your springs, Exilde for ever: Let me morne Where nights black bird hir sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorne. Downe vaine lights shine you no more, No"

Fine Knacks For Ladies - Sting

"(John Dowland) Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave and new, Good pennyworths but money cannot move, I keep a fair but for the fair to view, A beggar may be liberal of love. Though all my wares"

Clear Or Cloudy - Sting

"(John Dowland) Cleare or cloudie sweet as April showring, Smooth or frowning so is hir face to mee, Pleasd or smiling like milde May all flowring, When skies blew silke and medowes carpets bee, Hir speeches"

Wilt Thou Unkind Thus Reave Me - Sting

"(John Dowland) Wilt thou unkind thus reave me Of my heart, of my heart, And so leave me, and so leave me? Wilt thou unkind thus reave me Of my heart, of my heart, And so leave me, and so leave me? Farewell!"

Can She Excuse My Wrongs? - Sting

"(John Dowland) Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue's cloak? Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke? Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find? No,"

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