Thou pretty bird, how do I see

Thou pretty bird, how do I see

Thy silly state and mine agree,

For thou a prisoner art

So is my heart.

Thou sing'st to her, and so do I address

My music to her ear that's merciless.

But herein doth the difference lie,

That thou art grac'd, so am not I;

Thou singing liv'st,

And I must singing die.