Now must I die, alas, recureless,
When faith is thus regarded,
And poor Love, alas, unkindly is thus rewarded.
O grief, alas, O who may abide it?
Hold out, break not heart, O hide it.
O Nature cruel, witty,
Beauty so to make sans pity.
Farewell, adieu, with this your love unfeigned;
I die alas, through your disdain constrained.
O grief; beauty and no, no pity.
Farewell, adieu, with this your love unfeigned;
I die alas, through your disdain constrained.