Wofull heart with griefe oppressed
since my fortunes most distressed,
from my Joyes hath mee removed,
Follow those sweet eyes adorned,
those sweet eyes wherein are stored,
all my pleasures best beloved.
Fly my breast, leave mee forsaken,
Wherein Griefe his feare hath taken,
All his arrowes through mee darting,
Thou maist live by hir Sunneshining,
I shall suffer no more pining,
By thy losse, than by hir parting.