by Anonymous / Unidentified Author
Lie down, poor heart
Language: English
Lie downe, poore heart and die a while for griefe thinke not that this world will ever do thee good, fortune forewarnes ye looke to thy reliefe, and sorrow sucks upon thy living bloud, then this is all can helpe thee of this hell, lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well. Day gives his light but to thy labours toyle And night her rest but to thy weary bones Thy fairest fortune follows with a foyle: And laughing endes but with their after grones then this is all can helpe thee of thy hell, lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well. Patience doth pine and pitty ease no paine, Time weares the thoughts but nothing helps the mind, Dead and alive alive and dead againe: These are the fits that thou art like to finde. then this is all can helpe thee of thy hell, lie downe and die and then thou shalt doe well.
Authorship:
- by Anonymous / Unidentified Author [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Robert Jones (fl. 1597-1615), "Lie down, poor heart", published 1601 [counter-tenor and lute], from the collection First Book of Airs, no. 6. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2014-02-23
Line count: 18
Word count: 161