O softly drop mine eyes

Softly, O softly drop, mine eyes, lest you be dry
And make my heart with grief to melt and die
Now pour our tears apace
Now stay, O heavy case
O sour-sweet woe, alas, alas
O grief, O joy, why strive you so?
Can pains and joys at once in one poor heart consent?
Then sigh and sing, rejoice, lament
Ay me, ay me, O passions strange and violent!
Was never poor wretch so sore tormented?
Nor joy nor grief can make my heart contented:
For while wjth joy I look on high
Down, down I fall with grief and die