The neglected Lover calleth on his stony hearted Mistress to hear him complain ere that he die

HEAVEN, and earth, and all that hear me plain

Do well perceive what care doth make me cry;

Save you alone, to whom I cry in vain;

Mercy, Madam, alas! I die, I die!

If that you sleep, I humbly you require

Forbear awhile, and let your rigour slake,

Since that by you I burn thus in this fire;

To hear my plaint, dear heart, awake! awake!

Since that so oft ye have made me to wake

In plaint, and tears, and in right piteous case;

Displease you not if force do now me make

To break your sleep, crying alas! alas!

It is the last trouble that ye shall have

Of me, Madam, to hear my last complaint;

Pity at least your poor unhappy slave,

For in despair, alas! I faint, I faint.

It is not now, but long and long ago

I have you served, as to my power and might

As faithfully as any man might do;

Claiming of you nothing of right, of right.

Save of your grace only to stay my life

That fleeth as fast as cloud before the wind;

For since that first I entered in this strife,

An inward death hath fret my mind, my mind.

If I had suffered this to you unware

Mine were the fault, and you nothing to blame;

But since you know my woe and all my care,

Why do I die, alas! for shame! for shame!

I know right well my face, my look, my tears,

Mine eyes, my words, and eke my dreary chere

Have cried my death full oft unto your ears;

Hard of belief it doth appear, appear.

A better proof I see that ye would have;

How I am dead, therefore, when ye hear tell

Believe it not, although ye see my grave;

Cruel! unkind! I say farewell! farewell!