Shall I strive with wordes to move
when deedes receive not due regard?
Shall I speake and neyther please
nor be freely heard?

Griefe alas though all in vaine
her restlesse anguish must reveale
Shee alone my wound shall know
though shee will not heale.

Songs from the collection `A Pilgrimes Solace` (1612): No. 5, Shall I strive with words to move,  (Dowland)
1987, London
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