https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1d_kxTNGkCA Recorded the 12th of June at the "Institut für Musik und Medien" (Düsseldorf) by Marco T. Alleata. 1 Come again; sweet loue doth now inuite, Thy graces that refraine, To do me due delight, To see, to heare, to touch, to kisse, to die, With thee againe in sweetest sympathie. 2 Come againe that I may cease to mourne, Through thy vnkind disdaine: For now left and forlorne, I sit, I sigh, I weepe, I faint, I die, In deadly paine and endlesse miserie. 1 All the day the sun that lends me shine, By frownes doth cause me pine, And feeds me with delay: Her smiles, my springs, that makes my ioyes to grow, Her frownes the winters of my woe: 2 All the night my sleeps are full of dreames, My eyes are full of streames. My heart takes no delight, To see the fruits and ioyes that some do find, And marke the stormes are mee assigned, 3 Out alas, my faith is ever true, Yet will she neuer rue, Nor yield mee any grace: Her eyes of fire, her heart of flint is made, Whom teares, nor truth may once inuade. 4 Gentle loue draw forth thy wounding dart, Thou canst not pierce her heart, For I that doe approue, By sighs and teares more hot then are thy shafts, Did tempt while she for triumph laughs.