在她青春的春天，她凋零了，那时她的叶子还很绿，她的皮还很新鲜，当她的花朵还在绽放的时候，她在所有的命运面前凋零了。因为年龄的染色是对的，但青春是错的;她像被风吹落的水果一样消失了。Weepe, Shepheard !哭泣，让我的心曲。然而，她不像一个人强迫自己染色，而是带着恐惧和不情愿的不满染色，而是像一个孩子带着痛苦躺下，她躺下，仿佛要睡觉，漫不经心地安静地闭上眼睛;同时，柔和的死亡带走了她的精神，灵魂从罪恶的肉体中解脱出来。当我看到她带领牧羊人的女儿们排成一排跳舞时，我是多么高兴啊!她将多么整洁地描绘和轻轻地踏在嫩草上，上面有罗茜花环!当她向天上远航时，仙女和缪斯都来到了她的身边，羊群和牧羊人都被她迷住了。 But now, ye Shepheard lasses! who shall lead Your wandring troupes, or sing your virelayes? Or who shall dight your bowres, sith she is dead That was the Lady of your holy-dayes? Let now your blisse be turned into bale, And into plaints convert your joyous playes, And with the same fill every hill and dale. For I will walke this wandring pilgrimage, Throughout the world from one to other end, And in affliction wast my better age: My bread shall be the anguish of my mind, My drink the teares which fro mine eyed do raine, My bed the ground that hardest I may finde; So will I wilfully increase my paine. Ne sleepe (the harbenger of wearie wights) Shall ever lodge upon mine ey-lids more; Ne shall with rest refresh my fainting sprights, Nor failing force to former strength restore: But I will wake and sorrow all the night With Philumene, my fortune to deplore; With Philumene, the partner of my plight. And ever as I see the starres to fall, And under ground to goe to give them light Which dwell in darknes, I to minde will call How my fair Starre (that shinde on me so bright) Fell sodainly and faded under ground; Since whose departure, day is turnd to night, And night without a Venus starre is found. And she, my love that was, my Saint that is, When she beholds from her celestiall throne (In which shee joyeth in eternall blis) My bitter penance, will my case bemone, And pitie me that living thus doo die; For heavenly spirits have compassion On mortall men, and rue their miserie. So when I have with sorowe satisfide Th' importune fates, which vengeance on me seeke, And th' heavens with long languor pacifide, She, for pure pitie of my sufferance meeke, Will send for me; for which I daylie long: And will till then my painful penance eeke. Weep, Shepheard! weep, to make my undersong!