Thou prety Bird how doe I see,
Thy silly state and mine agree :
For thou a prisoner art,
So is my hart.
Thou sing'st to her and so doe I addresse,
My Musicke to her eare that's mercilesse :
But heerein doth the difference lie,
That thou art grac'd so am nit I,
Thou singing liu'st, and I must singing die.
Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer