Thomas Morley - Why sit I here, alas, complaining - текст песни (слова)

Why sit I here, alas, complaining?
 With sobs and groanings, my disdaining.
 O, this contenteth, 
 whom grief tormenteth.
 Ah, cease this weeping, fool alas,
 she does but this to prove thee:
 away false comfort, no, thou canst not move me.
 You that saw too much mine eyes,
 shall dearly buy it:
 that made my heart believe I did espy it.
 Hence false comfort, in vain thou dost ease me,
 comfort in vain, thou seekst to ease me;
 away I say then, thou canst not please me.