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Thomas Campion (Томас Кэмпион)


Follow Your Saint


Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
There, wrapp'd in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
Then burst with sighing in her sight and ne'er return again.

All that I sung still to her praise did tend,
Still she was first; still she my songs did end;
Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy.
Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight:
It shall suffice that they were breath'd and died for her delight. 



Thomas Campion's other poems:
  1. Fain Would I Wed
  2. Integer Vitae
  3. View Me, Lord, A Work Of Thine
  4. My Sweetest Lesbia
  5. When To Her Lute Corinna Sings


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