Sorrow stay, lend true repentant teares, To a woefull wretched wight, Hence dispair with thy tormenting feares: O doe not my poor heart affright, Pitty, help now or neuer, Mark me not to endlesse paine, Alas I am condempned euer, No hope, no help there doth remain, But down, down, down, down I fall, Down and arise I never shall.Close