... 

 ... 
Then, if she smile on you, my Songs,
Say, as I bid you, word for word,
"Lady of him that is our lord,
We from his heart, where we were born,
Shelter'd, and shut from shame and scorn,
Now at his bidding (well-a-day
For him, and us!) being fled away,
Never again may there abide,
Never return, and, undenied,
Creep in, and fold our wings, and rest
At peace in our abandon'd nest.
Wherefore, dear mistress, prithee take
(By true love sent, for true love's sake)
To thy sweet heart, and spirit pure,
Us, that must else but ill endure
The scorns of time, and haply fare
Homeless as birds in winter are."