Away Delights

 AWAY, delights! go seek some other dwelling,
 For I must die.
Farewell, false love! thy tongue is ever telling
 Lie after lie.
For ever let me rest now from thy smarts;
 Alas, for pity go
 And fire their hearts
That have been hard to thee! Mine was not so.

Never again deluding love shall know me,
 For I will die;
And all those griefs that think to overgrow me
 Shall be as I:
For ever will I sleep, while poor maids cry--
 'Alas, for pity stay,
 And let us die
With thee! Men cannot mock us in the clay.'

Form: Ballad

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