Double Concerto in A minor, 2nd movement
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“Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears; Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs: List to the heavy part the music bears, “Woe weeps out her division when she sings.” Droop herbs and flowers; Fall grief in showers; “Our beauties are not ours”: Oh, I could still, Like melting snow upon some craggy hill, Drop, drop, drop, drop, Since nature’s pride is, now, a withered daffodil.” —Ben Jonson (1572–1637)