When to her lute Corinna sings

When to her lute Corrina sings,

Her voice revives the leaden strings,

And doth in highest notes appear,

As any challeng'd echo clear;

But when she doth of mourning speak,

Even with her sighs the strings do break.

And, as her lute doth live or die,

Led by her passion, so must I:

For when of pleasure she doth sing,

My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring;

But if she doth of sorrow speak,

Even from my heart the strings do break.