Was born, thou gav’st me, bounden, full of pains
And bitter tears; and syne within his power
He hath me and his rule’s so harsh and dour
No sighs can move the swain
Nor all my wasting plaints to set me free.
My prayers, the wild winds bear them all away;
He hearkeneth unto none and none will hear;
Wherefore each hour my torment waxeth aye;
I cannot die, albeit life irks me drear.
Ah, Lord, have pity on my heavy cheer;