Three Melancholy Songs

Oft have I sigh'd for him that hears me not:
Who absent hath both love and me forgot.
O yet I languish still, through his delay.
Days seem as years, when wish'd friends break their day.

Had he but lov'd as common lovers use,
His faithless stay some kindness would excuse:
O yet I languish still, still constand mourn
For him that can break vows, but not return.

What then is loue but mourning?
    What desire, but a selfe-burning?
Till shee that hates doth loue returne,
Thus will I mourne, thus will I sing,
    Come away, come away, my darling.

Beautie is but a blooming,
    Youth in his glorie entombing ;
Time hath a while, which none can stay :
Then come away, while thus I sing,
    Come away, come away, my darling.

Sommer in winter fadeth ;
    Gloomie night heaun'ly light shadeth :
Like to the morne are Venus flowers ;
Such are her howers : then will I sing,
    Come away, come away, my darling.

Followe thy faire sunne unhappy shaddowe
Though thou be blacke as night
And she made all of light,
Yet follow thy faire sunne unhappie shaddowe.

Follow her whose light thy light depriveth,
Though here thou liv'st disgrac't,
And she in heaven is plac't,
Yer lollow her whose light the world reviveth.

Follow those pure beames whose beautie burneth
That so have scorched thee,
As thou still blacke must bee,
Til her kind beames thy black to brightness turneth.

Follow her while yet her glorie shineth:
There comes a luckless night,
That will dim all light,
And this the black unhappie shade devineth.

Follow still since so thy fates ordained,
The sunne must have his shade,
Till both at once do fade,
The sun still [ap]prov'd the shadow still disdained.