A Pilgrimes Solace n. 4: Love Those Beams. [Italian translation]

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 blinde,

Hee hath his spies, my secret haunts to finde.

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.

• Artist:John Dowland
• Album:Dowland: Songs for Tenor and Lute - A Musicall Banquet.