First Booke of Songes, 1597

Come again; Sweet love doth now invite

Tekst: auteur onbekend

Come again;
Sweet love doth now invite,
Thy graces that refrain,
To do me due delight,
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die,
With thee again in sweetest sympathy.

 

Come again
That I may cease to mourn,
Through thy unkind disdain:
For now left and forlorn,
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die,
In deadly pain and endless misery.

 

All the day
That sun that lends me shine
By frowns doth cause me pine
And feeds me with delay:
Her smiles, my springs that make my joys to grow,
Her frowns, the winters of my woe.

 

All the night
My sleep is full of dreams,
My eyes are full of streams,
My heart takes no delight
To see the fruits and joys that some do find,
And mark the storms to me assigned,

 

Out, alas,
My faith is ever true,
Yet will she never rue,
Nor yield me any grace;
Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made,
Whom tears nor truth may once invade.

 

Gentle Love,
Draw forth thy wounding dart,
Thou canst not pierce her heart,
For I that to approve,
By sighs and tears more hot than are thy shafts,
Did tempt, while she for mighty triumph laughs.

xx

Kom weer; zoete liefde nodigt je uit

xx

Kom weer;
Zoete liefde nodigt je uit
Dat je de schoonheid die ik ontbeer
Nu volledig voor me ontsluit
Om te zien, te horen, te voelen, te kussen, te sterven,
En samen weer diepste genegenheid te werven.

 

Kom weer
Opdat mijn verdriet me kan verlaten
Om jouw onvriendelijke verweer:
Want nu, alleen en in alle staten
Zit ik, zucht ik, ween ik en bezwijm
In eindeloze ellende en dodelijke pijn.

 

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