Perhaps the best known of John Dowland’s lute songs, this song has been brutally restructured in the name of musical experimentation. And I’m not even sorry. Basically it’s what we do to jazz standards every time we play a gig - the middle section of the tune is a communal improvisation.
lyrics
Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
Exiled for ever, let me mourn;
Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings,
There let me live forlorn.
Down vain lights, shine you no more!
No nights are dark enough for those
That in despair their lost fortunes deplore.
Light doth but shame disclose.
Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell,
Learn to condemn light
Happy, happy they that in hell
Feel not the world's despite.
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