Book of Songs, Book 2: Flow, my tears, fall from your springs: Flow my tears

Flow, my tears, fall from your springs!
 Exiled for ever, let me mourn;
 Where night's black bird her sad infamy sings,
 There let me live forlorn.
 Down vain lights, shine you no more!
 No nights are dark enough for those
 That in despair their last fortunes deplore.
 Light doth but shame disclose.
 Never may my woes be relieved,
 Since pity is fled;
 And tears and sighs and groans my weary days, my weary days
 Of all joys have deprived.
 From the highest spire of contentment
 My fortune is thrown;
 And fear and grief and pain for my deserts, for my deserts
 Are my hopes, since hope is gone.
 Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell,
 Learn to contemn light
 Happy, happy they that in hell
 Feel not the world's despite.