I love, alas! yet am not loved, For cruel she to pity is not moved… My constant love with scorn she il… Only my sighs a little she regarde… Yet more and more the quenchless f…

A silly sylvan, kissing heav’n-bor… Scorched his lips for his so fond… I, not so fond, but gaz’d whilst s… And all my heart straight into fla… The sylvan justly suffer’d for his…

Ah! cannot sighs not tears, nor au… To pity me, who more than life do… O cruel fates! see, now away she’€… And fly, alas! alas! and leave me… Farewell, most fair, farewell, yet…

Alas! What a wretched life is thi… Nay what a death! Where tyrant Lo… My flow’€™ring days are in their p… All my proud hope quite fall’€™n,… My joys each after other, in haste…

Thus love commands, that I in vai… And sorrow will that she shall sti… Yet did I hope, which hope my lif… To hear her say, alas! His love w…

I fall, I fall, O stay me, Dear love, with joys you slay me, Of life your lips deprive me, Sweet, let your lips revive me, O whither are you hasting,

Yet, sweet, take heed, all sweets… Sting not her soft lips, Oh bewar… For if one flaming dart come from… Was never dart so sharp, ah, then…

Thus saith my Cloris bright, when we of Love sit downe and talk… Beware of Love, deere, Love is a… And Love is this and that, And O I wot not what,

Love not me for comely grace, For my pleasing eye or face; Nor for any outward part, No, nor for my constant heart: For those may fail or turn to ill,

Stay, Corydon, thou swain, Talk not so soon of dying: What though thy heart be slain, What though thy love be flying? She threatens thee, but dares not…

My throat is sore, my voice is hoa… My rests are sighs, deep from the… My song runs all on sharps, and wi… Time on my breast, I shrink with… Thus still, and still I sing, and…

Unkind, O, stay thy flying! And if I needs must die, pity me… But in thee, my heart is lying And no death can assail me, Alas! till life doth fail thee,

When shall my wretched life give p… That my sad cares may be enforc’€™… Come, saddest shadow, stop my vita… For I am thine, then let not care… Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fa…

Weep, O mine eyes and cease not, Out alas, these your spring tides… O when begin you to swell so high that I may drown…

Despiteful thus unto myself, I la… And in disdain, myself from joy I… These secret thoughts enwrap me so… That life, I hope. will soon from… And to some rest will quickly be c…