All night I muse, all day I cry, Ay me!Yet still I wish, though still deny, Ay me!I sigh, I mourn, and say that stillI only live my joys to kill, Ay me !
I feed the pain that on me feeds, Ay me!My wound I stop not, though it bleeds, Ay me!Heart, be content, it must be so,For springs were made to overflow, Ay me!
Then sigh and weep, and mourn thy fill, Ay me!Seek no redress, but languish still, Ay me!Their griefs more willing they endureThat know when they are past recure, Ay me!
