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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Penthea’s Dying Song

By John Ford (1586–c. 1640)

From ‘The Broken Heart’

OH, no more, no more,—too late;

Sighs are spent; the burning tapers

Of a life as chaste as fate,

Pure as are unwritten papers,

Are burnt out; no heat, no light

Now remains; ’tis ever night.

Love is dead; let lovers’ eyes

Locked in endless dreams,

Th’ extremes of all extremes,

Ope no more, for now Love dies;

Now Love dies—implying

Love’s martyrs must be ever, ever dying.