Woods, rocks and mountains and ye desert places
Where nought but bitter cold and hunger dwells,
Hear a poor maid`s last will, killed with disgraces.
Slide softly whilst I sing, you silver...Читать дальше

Woods, rocks and mountains and ye desert places
Where nought but bitter cold and hunger dwells,
Hear a poor maid`s last will, killed with disgraces.
Slide softly whilst I sing, you silver fountains.
And let your hollow waters like sad bells
Ring to my woes, whilst miserable I,
Cursing my fortunes, drop a tear and die.

Griefs, woes, and groanings, hopes and all such lies
I give to broken hearts that daily weep;
To all poor maids in love, my lost desiring.
Sleep sweetly while I sing my bitter moaning,
And last, my hollow lovers that ne`er keep
Truth in their hearts; while miserable I1,
Cursing my fortunes, drop a tear and die.

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