All lookes be pale, harts cold as stone,
For Hally now is dead, and gone,
            Hally, in whose sight,
                Most sweet sight,
            All the earth late tooke delight.
Eu'ry eye, weepe with mee.
Ioyes drown'd in teares must be.

His Iu'ry skin, his comely hayre,
His Rosie cheekes, so cleare and faire,
            Eyes that once did grace
                His bright face,
            Now in him all want their place.
Eyes and hearts weepe with mee
For who so kinde as hee?

His youth was like an Aprill flowre,
Adorn'd with beauty, loue, and powre.
            Glory strow'd his way,
                Whose wreaths gay
            Now are all turn'd to decay.
Then againe weepe with mee
None feele more cause then wee.

No more may his wisht sight returne,
His golden Lampe no more can burne.
            Quencht is all his flame ;
                His hop't fame
            Now hath left him nought but name.
For him all weepe with mee
Since more him none shall see.