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Mediaeval Baebes

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Mediaeval Baebes

Mad Song

So wild winds weep
and the night is so cold
come-hither sleep
let my griefs enfold thee
morning peeps
over the eastern steeps
and the rustling birds of dawn
the earth they do scorn
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to the vault
of paved heaven
with sorrow fraught
my notes are driven
they strike the ear of night
make weak the eyes of day
[they make mad the roaring winds
and with the tempests play]

like a fiend in a cloud
with howling woe
after night i do crowd
and with night i will go
turn my back to the east
from whence comforts have increased
light doth seize my brain
with frantic pain

to the vault
of paved heaven
with sorrow fraught
my notes are driven
they strike the ear of night
make weak the eyes of day