The mournful lovers

Come, sad turtle, mateless moaning,

Droop no more for want of Owning.

Here's a Breast

For your Nest,

Like an Altar, Cypress-dress'd,

Sacrificing griefful groaning.

Come, sad Turtle, oh come hither.

Our fate's alike, let's die together.

Come and use sigh-soothing skill,

And with cooing gently kill

Soon as Asps'

Fatal Clasps.

Whilst you, sad, glad feeder gasps,

Feed on woe, and feast your fill.

Come, sad Turtle, oh come hither.

Our fate's alike, let's die together.