Go crystal tears like to the morning showers
And sweetly weep into thy lady`s breast.
And as the dews revive the drooping flow`rs.
So let your drops of pity be address`d
To quicken up the thoughts of my desert
Which sleeps too sound whilst I from her depart.

Haste restless sighs and let your burning breath
Dissolve the ice of her indurate heart
Whose frozen rigour like forgetful Death
Feels never any touch of my desert
Yet sighs and tears to her I sacrifice
Both from a spotless heart and patient eyes.

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597): ¹ 9 `Go crystal tears`,  (Dowland)
Recorded: February 1984, Dresden.
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