what if a day, or a month, or a year? - john dowland lyrics
what if a day, or a month, or a yeare
crown thy delights with a thousand sweet contentings?
cannot a chance of a night or an howre
crosse thy desires with as many sad tormentings?
fortune, honor, beauty, youth
are but blossoms dying;
wanton pleasure, doating love
are but shadowes flying
all our joyes are but toyes
idle thoughts deceiving;
none have power of an howre
in their lives bereaving
earthes but a point to the world, and a man
is but a point to the worlds compared centure:
shall then a point of a point be so vaine
as to triumph in a seely points adventure?
all is h-ssard that we have
there is nothing biding;
dayes of pleasure are like streames
through faire meadowes gliding
weale and woe, time doth goe
time is ever turning:
secret fates guide our states
both in mirth and mourning
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