Three Madrigals After Dowland
text by John Dowland (1563-1626)

 

Weep You No More

Weep you no more,
What need you flow so fast?
Look how the snowy mountains
Heaven’s sun doth gently waste.
But my sun’s heavenly eyes
View not your weeping,
That now lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets:
Doth not the sun rise smiling
And fair at evening sets?
Rest you then, rest, sad eyes,
Melt not in weeping,
While she lies sleeping
Softly, now softly lies
Sleeping.

Burst forth, my tears

Burst, burst forth, my tears,
And show pain love provokes.
Kind lambs lament love’s scant relief,
And cares my freedom yokes.

Sad cares that never may have peace,
Knock at beauty’s gate.
While mercy sleeps, disdain increase,
O grieve, my tender flocks.

Come, heavy sleep

Come, heavy sleep, the image of true death,
And close my weary eyes,
Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath
And tears my heart with cries.
Come, possess my tired soul,
That living dies, that living dies,
Till thou on me bestole.

Come, shadow of my end.
Allied to death, and night;
Come thou, and charm these rebels,
Who do my mind affright.
Come, sweet sleep, or die forever;
Come, my sleep, or come thou never.