LRC歌词

[ti:First Booke of Songes, 1597 - If My Complaints Could Passions Move]
[ar:Rufus Muller/Christopher Wilson]
[al:Dowland: The First Booke of Songes]
[by:]
[offset:0]
[00:00.00]Dowland: First Booke of Songes, 1597: 4. If my complaints could passions move - Rufus Muller/Christopher Wilson
[00:00.31]If my complaints could passions move
[00:07.73]Or make love see wherein I suffer wrong
[00:15.62]My passions were enough to prove
[00:22.87]That my despairs had govern'd me too long
[00:30.57]O love I live and die in thee
[00:37.90]Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks
[00:46.23]Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me
[00:54.13]My heart for thy unkindness breaks
[01:02.39]Yet thou dost hope when I despair
[01:10.33]And when I hope
[01:13.07]Thou mak'st me hope in vain
[01:17.70]Thou say'st thou canst my harms repair
[01:26.00]Yet for redress
[01:28.66]Thou let'st me still complain
[01:35.78]Can love be rich and yet I want
[01:43.20]Is love my judge and yet am I condemn'd
[01:51.12]Thou plenty hast
[01:53.96]Yet me dost scant
[01:58.45]Thou made a God and yet thy power contemn'd
[02:06.01]That I do live it is thy power
[02:13.75]That I desire it is thy worth
[02:21.59]If love doth make men's lives too sour
[02:29.12]Let me not love
[02:33.20]Nor live henceforth
[02:37.29]Die shall my hopes but not my faith
[02:45.41]That you that of my fall may hearers be
[02:53.47]May here despair which truly saith
[03:01.11]I was more true to love than love to me

文本歌词


Dowland: First Booke of Songes, 1597: 4. If my complaints could passions move - Rufus Muller/Christopher Wilson
If my complaints could passions move
Or make love see wherein I suffer wrong
My passions were enough to prove
That my despairs had govern'd me too long
O love I live and die in thee
Thy grief in my deep sighs still speaks
Thy wounds do freshly bleed in me
My heart for thy unkindness breaks
Yet thou dost hope when I despair
And when I hope
Thou mak'st me hope in vain
Thou say'st thou canst my harms repair
Yet for redress
Thou let'st me still complain
Can love be rich and yet I want
Is love my judge and yet am I condemn'd
Thou plenty hast
Yet me dost scant
Thou made a God and yet thy power contemn'd
That I do live it is thy power
That I desire it is thy worth
If love doth make men's lives too sour
Let me not love
Nor live henceforth
Die shall my hopes but not my faith
That you that of my fall may hearers be
May here despair which truly saith
I was more true to love than love to me

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