Is there no pity sitting in the clouds That sees into the bottom of my grief? Oh, sweet my mother cast me not away Delay this mariage for a month, a week! Or if you do not make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies! Or if you do not make the bridal bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies! My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven How shall this faith return again to earth Unless that husband send it back to me from heaven By leaving earth, by leaving earth Gods bread, it makes me mad Day, Night, Hour, Tide, Time, Work, Play Gods bread, it makes me mad Day, Night, Hour, Tide, Time, Work, Play Nothing is Impossible!
tybalt, bridal, earth, monument, husband