the old infant day sweep
My bed close to thee's I weep
Am a as low as the cloud
Neither I jump or sit in sands
Sure since several sins sound
Dewing down Darling I know
All them are your sin Peace
You whom my tears no a longer sleep
Non tears dryly
O' passion puller
That day Adam leave to there
By love unrequited and dead
He went with his all
Why maintain her bed
For the owl men