to tune of a Neapolitan song, ;

        No, no, no, no, I ot e my foe, Alt te; For so fair a flame embraces All t    of all s spri brio my dying    some pleasure, Since reasure Bur in fairest light.    No, no, no, no.

        No, no, no, no, I ot e my foe, Alt te; Since our lives be not immortal, But to mortal Fetters tied, do    to be sorry ay.    No, no, no, no.

        No, no, no, no, I ot e my foe, Alt te; No man doubts,    I, in rying, t plain.    No, no, no, no.
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