Therfore prepare thy flitting soule
To wander with me in the aire; 110
Where deadlye griefe shall make it howle,
Because of me thou tookst no care:
Delay not time, thy glasse is run,
Thy date is past, thy life is done.
O stay a while, thou lovely sprite, 115
Be not soe hasty to convay
My soule into eternall night,
Where itt shall ne're behold bright day.
O doe not frowne; thy angry looke,
Hath "all my soule with horror shooke."[410] 120
But, woe is me! all is in vaine,
And bootless is my dismall crye;
Time will not be recalled againe,
Nor thou surcease before I dye.
O lett me live, and make amends 125
To some of thy most deerest friends.
But seeing thou obdurate art,
And wilt no pittye on me show,
Because from thee I did depart,
And left unpaid what I did owe: 130
I must content myselfe to take
What lott to me thou wilt partake.
And thus, as one being in a trance,
A multitude of uglye feinds
About this woffull prince did dance; 135
He had no helpe of any friends:
His body then they tooke away,
And no man knew his dying day.
FOOTNOTES:
[406] [Ed. Hales and Furnivall, vol. iii. p. 502.]
[407] [Ver. 1. 21. war. MS. and PP.]
[408] fetched.
[409] [trouble.]