Come Again

Come again, sweet flute, out now with blight
Thy grace is the traine-fraine to do me due delight
To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to lie
With thee again in sweetest sympathy
Come again, that I may cease to mourn
Through thy uncoy disdain, for now let down forlorn
I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die
In deadly pain, in painless misery
Gentle love, draw forth thy wounding dart
Thou canst not pierce my heart, for I that do approve
By sighs and tears, more fond than thou thy sighs
Can sympathise for triumph loves