Lycoris the Nymph her sad Song

In dew of roses steeping
Her lovely cheeks,
Lycoris thus sat weeping:
"Ah, Dorus false, that hast my heart bereft me,
And now unkind hast left me,
Hear, alas! oh, hear me!

Ay me, ay me.
Cannot my beauty move thee?
Pity, yet pity me.
Because I love thee.
Ay me, thou scorn'st the more I pray thee;
And this thou dost, and all to slay me.
Why,'' do then kill me, and vaunt thee;
Yet my ghost still shall haunt thee."