Текст оригинала на английском языке
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Kind are her answers, But her performance keeps no day; Breaks time, as dancers From their own music when they stray. All her free favours and smooth words, Wing my hopes in vain. O did ever voice so sweet but only feign? Can true love yield such delay, Converting joy to pain? Lost is our freedom, When we submit to women so: Why do we need them When, in their best they work our woe? Can alter ends, by Fate prefixed. O why is the good of man with evil mixed? Never were days yet called two, But one night went betwixt.
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