1. If my complaints could passions move
Or make Love see wherein I suffer wrong
My passions were enough to prove
That my despairs had govern`d me too long.
O Love I live and die in thee
Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks
Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me
My heart for thy unkindness breaks
Yet thou dost hope when I despair
And when I hope thou mak`st me hope in vain.
Thou say`s thou canst my harms repair
Yet for redress thou let`st me still complain.

2. Can Love be rich and yet I want?
Is Love my judge and yet am I condemn`d?
Thou plenty hast yet me dost scant
Thou made a god and yet thy pow`r contemn`d.
That I do live it is thy pow`r
That I desire it is thy worth
If Love doth make men`s lives too sour
Let me not love nor live henceforth.
Die shall my hopes but not my faith
That you that of my fall may hearers be
May here despair which truly saith
I was more true to Love than Love to me.

The First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1597): ¹ 4 `If my complaints`,  (Dowland)
Recorded 1958
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