See the building
Which whilst my mistress lived in
Was pleasure's essence.
See how it droopeth
And how nakedly it looketh
Without her presence.
Hark how the hollow winds do blow
And seem to murmur
In every corner
For her being absent, from whence doth chiefly grow
The cause that I do now this grief and sorrow show.
See that garden
Where oft I had reward in
For my true love.
See the places
Where I enjoyed those graces
The gods might move.
Oft in that arbour, while that she
With melting kisses
Distilling blisses
From her free lips for joy did ravish me,
That pretty nightingale did sing melodiously.