Have pity, Grief

Have pity, Grief; I cannot pay

The tribute which I owe thee, tears;

Alas those fountains are grown dry,

And 'tis in vain to hope supply

From others' eyes; for each man bears

Enough about him of his own

To spend his stock of tears upon.

Woo then the heavens, gentle Love,

To melt a cloud for my relief,

Or woo the deep, or woo the grave;

Woo what thou wilt, so I may have

Wherewith to pay my debt, for Grief

Has vowed unless I quickly pay,

To take both life and love away.