Farre from triumphing court and wonted glory
He dwelt in shadie unfrequented places
Times prisoner now he made his pastime story
Gladly forgets Courts erst afforded graces
That Goddesse whom hee servde to heavn is gone
And hee one earth In darknesse left to moane.

But loe a glorious light from his darke rest
Shone from the place where erst this Goddesse dwelt
A light whose beames the world with fruit hath blest
Blest was the Knight while hee that light beheld
Since then a starre fixed on his head hath shinde
And a Saints Image in his hart is shrinde.

Ravisht with joy so gract by such a Saint
He quite forgat his Cell and selfe denaid
He thought it shame in thankfulnesse to faint
Debts due to Princes must be duely paid
Nothing so hatefull to a noble minde
As finding kindnesse for to prove unkinde.

But ah poore Knight though thus in dreame he ranged
Hoping to serve this Saint in sort most meete
Tyme with his golden locks to silver changed
Hath with age-fetters bound him hands and feete
Aye mee hee cryes Goddesse my limbs grow faint
Though I times prisoner be be you my Saint.

Songs from the collection `A Musicall Banquet` (1610): No. 8, Far from triumphing court,  (Dowland)
2004, Sweden.
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