Me me and none but me,
dart home O gentle death,
And quicklie,
for I draw too long this idle breath.
O howe I long till I
may fly to heau'n aboue,
Unto my faithfull,
beloved turtle doue.
Like to the siluer Swanne,
before my death I sing :
And yet aliue
my fatal knell I helpe to ring.
Still I desire from earth
and earthly ioyes to flie,
He neuer happie liu'd,
that cannot loue to die.
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