My arms are my bed-hangings
And my rest's the bloody fray
Your bed must be the hard, hard rock
And your sleep to watch till day,

Where are you, ruler of my heart?
Are you not pained by my distress?
Maybe you know not of my plight,
Maybe youre false and pitiless,

My hopes swoop on the fair decoy
And yet they've never savoured
The sadness of not being called
Or the joy of being favoured

If love is kindess, as they say
You're so endowed with this
That the conclusion to my hopes
Must be the longed-for bliss

It's love not lustI feel for you [well maybe]
For it's not that I'm inclined
To slap and tickle, stuff like that [why not?]
I've better things in mind

In here, earth's cold and paltry prize
The body of a lover lies,
A shepherd who was cruelly slain
By one who paid with disdain

Love's blind - or rather, ignorant, I'd say
Or cruelty must be it's guiding passion
For it's unjust to make a lover pay
With torture on the rack of indiscreation

Ungrateful, haughty, cold and fair
Was she who drove him to despair,
More triumph for man's deadly foe
As tyrant LOVE"S dominions grow

If you want me to silence all my woe
And die, your slightest word shall seal my fate
If you want me to new ways to show
My grief, love shall itself the tale relate.