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My birth was in the moneth of May
And in that moneth my nuptiall day
In May a mayde a wife a mother
And now in May nor one nor other.
So flowers floarish soe they fade
So things to be undone are made
My stake heere withers yet there bee
Some lovely branches sproute from mee
On w c h bestow., thine Aprill rayne
So they the livelier may remayne.
But heere forbeare for why tis sayd
Teares fit the livinge not the dead