Lachrimae Pavane
I found this awesome poem while I was Wiki-hopping. Actually, it's a song that's played with a lute; this is probably the most well-known English song of the 17th century. I was so inspired by it that I managed to write my Social Studies short historical fiction project based on it, within an hour. :D
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 contemn light Happy, happy they that in hell Feel not the world's despite.
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 contemn light Happy, happy they that in hell Feel not the world's despite.