Love those beams that breed,
All day long
Breed and feed this burning:
Love I quench with floods,
Floods of tears,
Nightly tears and mourning.
But alas, tears cool this fire in vain,
The more I quench, the more there doth remain.

I'll go to the woods,
And alone,
Make my moan, O cruel:
For I am deceiv'd
And bereav'd
Of my life, my jewel.
O but in the woods, though Love be blind,
He hath his spies, my secret haunts to find.

Love, then I must yield
To thy might,
Might and spite oppressed,
Since I see my wrongs,
Woe is me,
Cannot be redressed.
Come at last, be friendly, Love, to me,
And let me not endure this misery.