A maid me loved

A maid me loved; her love I not respected;

She mourned, she signed, nay, sued, yet I neglected:

Too late! too late! alas, I now repent,

For Cupid with her love hath me infected.

As erst he hers, so love my heart now burneth;

As I at her, she laughs at me that mourneth:

Too late! too late! alas, I now repent,

Since her disdainèd love to hatred turneth.

On her alone doth health and hope rely,

Yet still she scorns and doth me love deny:

Too late! too late! alas, I now repent,

Since she joys in my death, I for her die.