A month ago Lysander pray'd

       To Jove, to Cupid, and to Venus,

     That he might die if he betray'd

       A single vow that pass'd between us.

     Ah, careless gods, to hear so ill

       And cheat a maid on you relying!

     For false Lysander's thriving still,

       And 'tis Corinna lies a-dying.