Album: First Booke Of Songes Or AyresBurst Forth My TearesBurst forth my teares, assist my forward grief,
And show what pain imperious Love provokes.
Kind tender lambs, lament Love's scant relief,
And pine, since pensive Care my freedom yokes.
O pine, to see me pine, my tender flocks.
Sad pining Care, that never may have peace,
At Beauty's gate in hope of pity knocks;
But Mercy sleeps while deept Disdain increase,
And Beauty Hope in her fair bosom locks.
O grieve to hear my frief, my tender flocks.
Like to the winds my sighs have winged been;
Yet are my sighs and suits repaid with mocks;
I plead, yet she repineth at my teen.
O ruthless rigour harder than the rocks,
That both the shepherd kills, and his poor flocks
