John Wilbye

When Shall my Wretched Life

When shall my wretched life give place to death?
That my sad cares may be enforc’€™d to leave me.
Come, saddest shadow, stop my vital breath,
For I am thine, then let not care bereave thee
Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fatal dart,
Kill care and me, while care lies at my heart.
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