"The only mirror of extreme annoy;" But not alone thou diest, my love, for I Will be copartner of thy destiny.

Stand up, wench: Why, now my joy is full; My heart is lighten'd of all sad annoy: Now fare well, grief, and welcome home, my joy.

You wait and say with vague annoy, "It will not sound so sweet again," Until comes back the wild refrain That floods your soul with treble joy.