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(harle/shakespeare)
Come away, come away, death
And in sad cyprus let me be laid
Fie away, fie away, breath
I am slain by a fair cruel maid
My shroud of white stuck all with yew
O prepare it
My part of death no one so true
Did share it

Come away, come away, death

Not a flower, not a flower, sweet
On my black coffin let there be strown
Not a friend, not a friend, greet
My poor corpse where my bones shall be thrown
A thousand thousand sighs to save
Lay me o where
Sad true lover never find my grave
To weep there

Come away, come away, death