of the wand the moon – a dirge lyrics
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me seemes i see the high and stately mountaines,
transform themselves to lowe dejected vallies:
me seemes i heare in these ill changed forrests,
the nightingales doo learne of owles their musique:
me seemes i feele the comfort of the morning
turnde to the mortall serene of an evening.
me seemes i see a filthie clowdie evening,
as soon as sunne begins to clime the mountaines:
me seemes i feele a noysome sent, the morning
when i doo smell the flowers of these vallies:
me seemes i heare, when i doo heare sweet musique,
the dreadfull cries of murdered men in forrests.
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