Which in your songs were wont to make a part:
Thou, pleasant Spring, hast lull'd me oft asleep,
Whose streams my trickling tears did oft augment!
"Resort of people doth my griefs augment,
The walled towns do work my greater woe;
The forest wide is fitter to resound
The hollow echo of my careful cries.
I hate the house, since thence my love did part,
Whose wailful want debars mine eyes of sleep.
"Let streams of tears supply the place of sleep;