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Thomas Campion

The Third Booke of Ayres


XX. Fire, fire, fire, fire, loe here

             1  Fire, fire, fire, fire. 
       Loe here I burne in such desire 
       That all the teares that I can straine 
       Out of mine idle empty braine, 
       Cannot allay my scorching paine. 
                 Come Trent, and Humber, and fayre Thames,
                 Dread Ocean haste with all thy streames : 
                 And if you cannot quench my fire, 
                 O drowne both mee, and my desire. 

             2  Fire fire, fire, fire. 
       There is no hell to my desire :
       See, all the Riuers backward flye, 
       And th' Ocean doth his waues deny, 
       For feare my heate should drinke them dry. 
                 Come heau'nly showres then pouring downe ; 
                 Come you that once the world did drowne : 
                 Some then you spar'd, but now saue all, 
                 That else must burne, and with mee fall. 



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