O Mors!

Exceeding sorrow

Consumeth my sad heart!

Because to-morrow

We must depart,

Now is exceeding sorrow

All my part!

Give over playing,

Cast thy viol away:

Merely laying

Thine head my way:

Prithee, give over playing,

Grave or gay.

Be no word spoken;

Weep nothing: let a pale

Silence, unbroken

Silence prevail!

Prithee, be no word spoken,

Lest I fail!

Forget tomorrow!

Weep nothing: only lay

In silent sorrow

Thine head my way!

Let us forget to-morrow

This one day!