Three Virgins at the break of day
Whither young Man whither away
Alas for woe! alas for woe!
They cry and tears for ever flow
The one was Clothd in flames of fire
The other Clothd in iron wire
The other Clothd in tears and sighs
Dazling bright before my Eyes
They bore a Net of Golden twine
To hang upon the Branches fine
Pitying I wept to see the woe
That Love and Beauty undergo
To be consumed in burning Fires
And in ungratified desires
And in tears clothd Night & day
Melted all my Soul away
When they saw my Tears a Smile
That did Heaven itself beguile
Bore the Golden Net aloft
As on downy Pinions soft
Over the Morning of my day
Underneath the Net I stray
Now intreating Burning Fire
Now intreating Iron Wire
Now intreating Tears & Sighs
O when will the morning rise