(Loved like her very eyes, ah heavy woe!)
Is dead. Full sweet was he, and knew her well
As she her mother knew, nor long would stray
From her fair breast, save here to hop, or there;
His pretty pipings were for her alway.
Yet now he wings the shadowy gloom of Hell,
Whence none return to breathe Earth’s pleasant air.
But curses on thee, dark and evil shade
So to engulf all things that lovely be!
Thou’st robbed her sparrow from my little maid;