F alse beauty that costs me so dear, br R ough indeed, a hypocrite sweetness, br A mor, like iron on the teeth and harder, br N amed only to achieve my sure distress, br C harm that's murderous, poor heart's death, br O covert pride that sends men to ruin, br I mplacable eyes, won't true redress br S uccour a poor man, without crushing? br br M uch better elsewhere to search for br A id: it would have been more to my honour: br R etreat I must, and fly with dishonour, br T hough none else then would have cast a lure. br H elp me, help me, you greater and lesser! br E nd then? With not even one blow landing? br Or will Pity, in line with all I ask here, br Succour a poor man, without crushing? br br That time will come that will surely wither br Your bright flower, it will wilt and yellow, br Then if I can grin, I'll call on laughter, br But, yet, that would be foolish though: br You'll be pale and ugly: and I'll be old, br Drink deep then, while the stream's still flowing: br And don't bring trouble on all men so, br Succour a poor man, without crushing. br br Amorous Prince, the greatest lover, br I want no evil that's of your doing, br But, by God, all noble hearts must offer br To succour a poor man, without crushing.