1. Sighs for the heart wherein, when grief
Assails it, moaneth loud the burning pain;

2. They say that love is for the abject vile;
So too all loving souls of high disdain

3. Beneath the tomb I went a weary way,
But easement found in that sore task I trow,

4. Whenas for lightening it I sued and prayed
But stubborn was that mission-quest, till now