Alas! What a wretched life is this!
Nay what a death! Where tyrant Love commandeth!
My flow-ring days are in their prime declining,
All my proud hope quite fall-n, and life untwining,
My joys each after other, in haste are flying,
And leave me dying for her that scorns my crying.
Oh she from hence departs, my love refraining,
For whom, all heartless alas! I die complaining.