Poem by John Dowland

A Pedlar

FINE knacks for ladies! cheap, choice, brave, and new,
   Good pennyworths--but money cannot move:
I keep a fair but for the Fair to view--
   A beggar may be liberal of love.
Though all my wares be trash, the heart is true,
   The heart is true.

Great gifts are guiles and look for gifts again;
   My trifles come as treasures from my mind:
It is a precious jewel to be plain;
   Sometimes in shell the orient'st pearls we find:--
Of others take a sheaf, of me a grain!
   Of me a grain! 

1. Mourn, Mourn, Day Is With Darkness Fled
2. Wilt Thou Unkind Thus Reave Me
3. Come Ye Heavy States Of Night
4. Come, Heavy Sleep
5. In Darkness Let Me Dwell

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