O HAPPY dames! that may embrace 
   The fruit of your delight, 
Help to bewail the woful case 
   And eke the heavy plight 
Of me, that wonted to rejoice 
The fortune of my pleasant choice: 
Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice. 

In ship, freight with rememberance 
   Of thoughts and pleasures past, 
He sails that hath in governance 
   My life while it will last: 
With scalding sighs, for lack of gale, 
Furthering his hope, that is his sail, 
Toward me, the swete port of his avail. 

Alas! how oft in dreams I see 
   Those eyes that were my food; 
Which sometime so delighted me, 
   That yet they do me good: 
Wherewith I wake with his return 
Whose absent flame did make me burn: 
But when I find the lack, Lord! how I mourn! 

When other lovers in arms across 
   Rejoice their chief delight, 
Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss 
   I stand the bitter night 
In my window where I may see 
Before the winds how the clouds flee: 
Lo! what a mariner love hath made me! 

And in green waves when the salt flood 
   Doth rise by rage of wind, 
A thousand fancies in that mood 
   Assail my restless mind. 
Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe, 
That with the spoil of my heart did go, 
And left me; but alas! why did he so? 

And when the seas wax calm again 
   To chase fro me annoy, 
My doubtful hope doth cause me plain; 
   So dread cuts off my joy. 
Thus is my wealth mingled with woe 
And of each thought a doubt doth grow; 
--Now he comes! Will he come? Alas! no, no.