Full Lyrics
Die not before thy day, poor man condemned,
But lift thy low looks from the humble earth,
kiss not despair and see sweet hope condemned:
The hag hath no delight, but moan for mirth,
O fie poor fondling, O fie poor fondling,
fie, be willing to preserve thyself from killing:
Hope thy keeper glad to free thee,
Bids thee go and will not see thee,
hie thee quickly from thy wrong,
so she ends her willing song.
