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"Break now your garlands, O ye shepherds' lasses! Sith the fair flower, which them adorned, is gone: The flower, which them adorned, is gone to ashes, Never again let lass put garland on.
Instead of garland, wear sad cypress now; And bitter elder, broken from the bough."
"Ne ever sing the love-lays which he made; Whoever made such lays of love as he? Ne ever read the riddles, which he said Unto yourselves, to make you merry glee.
Your merry glee is now laid all abed, Your merry-maker now, alas! is dead."
"Death! the devourer of all world's delight, Hath robbèd you, and reft from me my joy; Both you and me and all the world, he quite Hath robbed of joyance; and left sad annoy.
Joy of the world! and shepherds' pride was he: Shepherds hope never, like again to see."
"Oh, Death! that hast us of such riches reft, Tell us at least, What hast thou with it done? What is become of him, whose flower here left; Is but the shadow of his likeness gone.
Scarce like the shadow of that which he was: Nought like, but that he, like a shade, did pass."
