My Pyramus, whence sprang thy cruel fate?
My Pyramus; ah! speak, ere 'tis too late:
I, thy own Thisbe; but one word implore,
One word thy Thisbe never asked before!
Fate, though it conquers, shall no triumph gain,
Fate, that divides us, still divides in vain.
Now, both our cruel parents, hear my prayer,
My prayer to offer for us both I dare,
O see our ashes in one urn confined,
Whom love at first, and fate at last, has joined.