"The Lover Laments the Death of His Love"
The pillar perished is wherto I lent,
The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind:
The like of it no man again can finde:
From east to west still seeking though he went.
To mine unhappe for happe away hath rent,
Of all my joy the very bark and rind:
And I (alas) by chance am thus assigned
Daily to mourn till death do it relent.
But since that thus it is my destiny,
What can I more but have a woeful heart,
My pen, in plaint, my voice in carefull cry:
My mind in woe, my body full of smart.
And I my self, my self always to hate,
Till dreadful death do ease my doleful state.