A crown of bays shall that man wear
(Song: The Forsaken Man)
A crown of bays shall that man wear,
That triumphs over me;
For black and tawny will I wear,
Which mourning colors be.
The more I follow’d one,
The more she fled away,
As Daphne did full long agone
Apollo’s wishful prey.
The more my plaints I do resound
The less she pities me;
The more I sought the less I found,
Yet mine she meant to be.
Melpomene alas, with doleful tunes help then
And sing Bis, woe worth on me forsaken man.
Then Daphne’s bays shall that man wear,
That triumphs over me;
For black and tawny will I wear,
Which mourning colors be.
Drown me with trickling tears,
You wailful wights of woe;
Come help these hands to rend my hairs,
My rueful hap to show.
On whom the scorching flame
Of love doth feed you see;
Ah a lalalantida, my dear dame
Hath thus tormented me.
Wherefore you muses nine, with doleful tunes help than,
And sing, Bis, woe worth on me forsaken man.
Then Daphne’s bays shall that man wear,
That triumphs over me;
For black and tawny will I wear,
Which mourning colors be;
An anchor’s life to lead,
With nails to scratch my grave,
Where earthly worms on me shall feed,
Is all the joy I crave;
And hide myself from shame,
Since that mine eyes do see,
Ah a lalalantida, my dear dame
Hath thus tormented me.
And all that present be, with doleful tunes help than,
And sing Bis, woe worth on me, forsaken man.
Finis. E. O.
