Now must I die recureless

Now must I die, alas, recureless,

When faith is thus regarded,

And poor Love, alas, unkindly is thus rewarded.

O grief, alas, O who may abide it?

Hold out, break not heart, O hide it.

O Nature cruel, witty,

Beauty so to make sans pity.

Farewell, adieu, with this your love unfeigned;

I die alas, through your disdain constrained.

O grief; beauty and no, no pity.

Farewell, adieu, with this your love unfeigned;

I die alas, through your disdain constrained.