Читать книгу The Oxford Book of English Verse - Various Authors - Страница 69

John Dowland’s Third and Last Book of Songs or Airs, 1603

WEEP you no more, sad fountains;

What need you flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains

Heaven’s sun doth gently waste!

But my Sun’s heavenly eyes

View not your weeping,

That now lies sleeping

Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.

Sleep is a reconciling,

A rest that peace begets;

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at even he sets?

Rest you then, rest, sad eyes!

Melt not in weeping,

While she lies sleeping

Softly, now softly lies

Sleeping.