John Dowland Follow

Rest a while you cruell cares,
Be not more seuere then loue.
Beautie kils and beautie spares,
And sweet smiles sad sighes remoue :
Laura, faire queene of my delight,
Come grant me loue in loues despite,
And if I euer faile to honor thee :
Let this heauenly light I see,
Bee as darke as hell to me.

If I speake, my words want wait,
Am I mute, my heart doth breake,
If I sigh, she fears deceit,
Sorrow then for me must speake :
Cruell, vnkind, with fauour view
The wound that first was made by you :
And if my torments fayned be,
Let this heauenly light I see
Be as darke as hell to mee.

Neuer houre of pleasing rest
Shall reuiue my dying ghost,
Till my soule hath repossest,
The sweet hope which loue hath lost :
Laura redeeme the soule that dies,
By furie of thy murdering eyes :
And if it proue vnkinde to thee,
Let this heauenly light I see
Be as darke as hell to mee.