Die now, my heart Thomas Morley

Die now, my heart from thy delight exiled:
Thy love is dead and all our hope beguiled
O Death, unkind and cruel
To rob the world so of that her fairest jewel
Now shoot at me, now shoot and spare not
Kill me I care not
Think not, O Death, alas thy dart shall pain me;
Why shouldst thou here against my will retain me?
O hear a doleful wretches crying
Or I die, I die for want of dying