Music: John Dowland
Shall I sue shall I seek for grace?
Shall I pray shall I prove?
Shall I strive to a heav`nly joy,
With an earthly love?
Shall I think that a bleeding heart
Or a wounded eye,
Or a sigh can ascend the clouds
To attain so high.
Shall I think that a bleeding heart
Or a wounded eye,
Or a sigh can ascend the clouds
To attain so high.
Silly wretch forsake these dreams,
Of a vain desire,
O bethink what high regard,
Holy hopes do require.
Favour is as fair as things are,
Treasure is not bought,
Favour is not won with words,
Nor the wish of a thought.
Favour is as fair as things are,
Treasure is not bought,
Favour is not won with words,
Nor the wish of a thought.
Pity is but a poor defence,
For a dying heart,
Ladies` eyes respect no moan,
In a mean desert.
She is too worthy far,
For a worth so base,
Cruel and but just is she,
In my just disgrace.
She is too worthy far,
For a worth so base,
Cruel and but just is she,
In my just disgrace.
Justice gives each man his own,
Though my love be just,
Yet will not she pity my grief,
Therefore die I must,
Silly heart then yield to die,
Perish in despair,
Witness yet how fain I die,
When I die for the fair.
Silly heart then yield to die,
Perish in despair,
Witness yet how fain I die,
When I die for the fair.