Come ye heavy states of night
Do my fathers spirit right
Soundings baleful let me borrow
Burthening my song with sorrow
Come sorrow come her eyes that sings
By thee are turnèd into springs

Come you virgins of the night
That in dirges sad delight
Choir my anthems, I doe borrow
Gold nor pearle, but sounds of sorrow:
Come sorrow come her eyes that sings
By thee are turnèd into springs