The First Book Of Songs - John Dowland
Voice and Guitar.
Who ever thinks or hopes of love for love
My thoughts are wingd with hopes
If my complaints could passions move
Can she excuse my wrongs with vertues cloake
Now, o now I needs must part
Deare if you change ile never chuse againe
Burst forth my teares
Go Cristall teares
Think' st thou then by thy faining
Come away, come sweet love
Rest a while you cruell cares
Sleepe wayward thoughts
All ye whom love or fortune hath betraide
Wilt thou unkind thus reave me of my hart
Would my conceit that first enforst my woe
Come againe: sweet love doth now envite
His goulden locks time hath to silver turnd
Awake sweet love thou art returnd Come heavy sleepe .
Awaie with these selfe loving lads
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