When Shall My Wretched Life
When shall my wretched life give place to death?
That my sad cares may be enforc’d to leave me.
Come, saddest shadow, stop my vital breath,
For I am thine, then let not care bereave thee
Of thy sad thrall but, with thy fatal dart,
Kill care and me, while care lies at my heart.
Alas! What A Wretched Life Is This!
Alas! What a wretched life is this!
Nay what a death! Where tyrant Love commandeth!
My flow’ring days are in their prime declining,
All my proud hope quite fall’n, and life untwining,
My joys each after other, in haste are flying,
And leave me dying for her that scorns my crying.
Oh she from hence departs, my love refraining,
For whom, all heartless alas! I die complaining.
