Since all thy vows, false maid, 
Are blown to air,
And my poor heart betray'd 
To sad despair,
Into some wilderness,
My grief I will express
And thy hardheartedness,
O cruel Fair!

 ... 

Some gloomy place I'll find, 
Some doleful shade
Where neither sun nor wind
E'er entrance had:
Into that hollow cave,
There will I sigh and rave,
Because thou dost behave
So faithlessly.

I'll have no funeral fire, 
Nor tears for me,
No grave do I desire, 
No obsequie;
The courteous redbreast, he,
With leaves will cover me
And sing my elegy
With doleful voice.

And when a ghost I am, 
I'll visit thee:
O thou deceitful dame, 
Whose cruelty
Has kill'd the kindest heart
That e'er felt Cupid's dart,
And never can desert
From loving thee.