Softly, O! dropp mine eyes, lest you be dry,
And make my heart with grief to melt and die.
Now pour out tears apace,
Now stay, O heavy case!
O sour sweet woe!
Alas! O grief! O joy! Why strive you so?
Can griefs and joys at once in one poor heart consent?
Then sigh and sing, rejoice, lament.
Ah me! O passions strange and violent!
Was never poor wretch so tormented:
Nor joy, nor grief can make my heart contented.
For while with joy I look on high,
Down, down I fall with grief, and die.
Softly, O! Dropp Mine Eyes
John Wilbye
(1)
Poem topics: never, sweet, stay, rejoice, high, heavy, strange, poor, heart, joy, grief, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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