Classic Poem

Absence absenting causeth me to complain,
My sorrowful complaints abiding in distress,
And departing most privy increaseth my pain,
Thus live I uncomforted wrapped all in heaviness.

In heaviness I am wrapped, devoid of all solace,
Neither pastime nor pleasure can revive my dull wit,
My spirits be all taken, and death doth me menace,
With his fatal knife the thread for to kit.

For to cut the thread of this wretched life,
And shortly bring me out of this case:
I see it availeth not, yet must I be pensive,
Since fortune from me hath turned her face.

Her face she hath turned with countenance contrarious,
And clean from her presence she hath exiled me,
In sorrow remaining as a man most dolorous,
Exempt from all pleasure and worldly felicity.

All worldly felicity now am I private,
And left in desert most solitarily,
Wandering all about as one without mate;
My death approacheth; what remedy?

What remedy, alas, to rejoice my woful heart,
With sighs suspiring most ruefully?
Now welcome! I am ready to depart.
Farewell all pleasure! welcome pain and smart!