In Limit Of Soul

Folly is an endless maze
Tangled roots perplex her ways

I can not stand on my feet
Crawl painfully I abandon myself

And the night is a cold
Come hither, sleep and my griefs unfold

After night I do croud, and with night will go
I turn my back to the east
From whence conforts have increas's

Because I was happy upon the heath
They clothed me in the clothes of death

And taught me to sing the notes of woe