John Dowland
Love those beams
Love those beames that breede, all day long breed, and feed, this burning:
Love I quench with flouds
Flouds of teares, nightly teares and mourning
But alas teares coole this fire in vaine
The more I quench, the more there doth remaine

Ile goe to the woods, and alone, make my moane, oh cruell:
For I am deceiv’d and bereav’d of my life, my jewell
O but in the woods, though Love be blindе
Hee hath his spies, my secret haunts to findе

Love then I must yeeld to thy might, might and spight oppressed
Since I see my wrongs, woe is me, cannot be redressed
Come at last, be friendly Love to me
And let me not, endure this miserie