| |
| THE SUN he is sunk in the west, | |
| All creatures retirèd to rest, | |
| While here I sit, all sore beset, | |
| With sorrow, grief, and woe: | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 5 |
| |
| The prosperous man is asleep, | |
| Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep; | |
| But Misery and I must watch | |
| The surly tempest blow: | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 10 |
| |
| There lies the dear partner of my breast; | |
| Her cares for a moment at rest: | |
| Must I see thee, my youthful pride, | |
| Thus brought so very low! | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 15 |
| |
| There lie my sweet babies in her arms; | |
| No anxious fear their little hearts alarms; | |
| But for their sake my heart does ache, | |
| With many a bitter throe: | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 20 |
| |
| I once was by Fortune carest: | |
| I once could relieve the distrest: | |
| Now life’s poor support, hardly earn’d | |
| My fate will scarce bestow: | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 25 |
| |
| No comfort, no comfort I have! | |
| How welcome to me were the grave! | |
| But then my wife and children dear— | |
| O, wither would they go! | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 30 |
| |
| O whither, O whither shall I turn! | |
| All friendless, forsaken, forlorn! | |
| For, in this world, Rest or Peace | |
| I never more shall know! | |
| And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! | 35 |
| |
