Томас Морли (2) - Deep lamenting - ноты, текст песни (слова)

Deep lamenting, grief, bewraying;
 Poor Amintas thus sat saying:
 Glut now thine eyes full,
 while I lie here a dying; 
 killed with disdain,
 alas, and pity crying;
 Now, mayst thou laugh full merrily;
 for dead lo is the man, 
 dead is thy mortal enemy.
 O no, weep not,
 I cannot bide this blindness;
 All too late now God wot,
 all too late comes this kindness.
 But if you would that death should, 
 death of life, of life should deprive me;
 Weep not alas lest you revive me,
 weep not lest you thereby revive me.
 Ah cease to bewail me, 
 my life now doth fail me.