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Poem by John Dowland
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Mourn, mourn, day is with darkness fled, What heavn's then governs earth, O none, but hell in heaven's stead, Choke with his mists our mirth. Mourn, mourn, look now for no more day Nor night, but that from hell, Then all must as they may In darkness learn to dwell. But yet this change, must needs change our delight, That thus the sun should harbour with the light.
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