Weep, weep, mine eyes
J. Wilbye
Weep, weep, mine eyes, my heart can take no rest;
Weep, weep, my heart, mine eyes shall ne'er be blest;
Weep eyes, weep heart, and both this accent cry,
A thousand thousand deaths I die, I die.
Cruel Fortune, to die I fear not,
Death, now do thy worst, I care not!
I hope when I am dead in Elysian plain
To meet, and there with joy we'll love again.