General Editor: Marc R. Plamondon
1What doth it serve to see sun's burning face,
2And skies enamelled with both the Indies' gold?
3Or moon at night in jetty chariot roll'd,
4And all the glory of that starry place?
5What doth it serve earth's beauty to behold,
6The mountain's pride, the meadow's flow'ry grace,
7The stately comeliness of forests old,
8The sport of floods which would themselves embrace?
9What doth it serve to hear the sylvans' songs,
10The wanton merle, the nightingale's sad strains,
11Which in dark shades seem to deplore my wrongs?
12For what doth serve all that this world contains,
13 Sith she for whom those once to me were dear,
14 No part of them can have now with me here?