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Incontinent with trembling sound,
He woefully 'gan to complain;
Such were the accents as might wound,
And tear a diamond rock in twain.
  After his throbs did somewhat stay,
  Thus heavily he 'gan to say.

"O sun!" said he, seeing the sun,
"On wretched me, why dost thou shine?
My star is fallen, my comfort done;
Out is the apple of my eyen.
  Shine upon those possess delight,
  And let me live in endless night!"

"O grief! that liest upon my soul,
As heavy as a mount of lead;
The remnant of my life control,
Consort me quickly with the dead!
  Half of this heart, this sprite and will,
  Died in the breast of Astrophil."

"And you compassionate of my woe,
Gentle birds, beasts, and shady trees!
I am assured ye long to know
What be the sorrows me aggrieves;
  Listen ye then to what ensu'th,
  And hear a tale of tears and ruth."