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A DIRGE.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

A DIRGE.

Hast thou gone and left me
Void of faults but strictly true.
Fly far away
Without delay;
Adieu my love, adieu.
Hast thou gone and left me,
Hence to seek another bride;
I must be still,
Thou hast thy will;
The world is free and wide.
Only had'st thou told me,
Ere I drunk the bitter cup,
I could with shame
Now bear the blame,
And freely give thee up.

12

But I'm left to ponder,
Now in the depth of sorrow's gloom,
Like some dull sprite
In dead of night,
Bewailing o'er her tomb.
Swiftly fly and welcome,
It is the fate of fools to-part,
With whom I know
Wedlock is wo,
Without the streams of love.
Where constant love is wanting,
Pleasure has not long to dwell,
I view my fate,
Alas, too late,
So Henry fare thee well.
But my love remember,
Hence we meet, and face to face,
Thy heart shall ache,
Thy soul shall quake,
Thou wretch of all disgrace.