Thou window, once which served for a sphere

[ZaunköniG]

Thou window, once which served for a sphere
To that dear planet of my heart, whose light
Made often blush the glorious queen of night,
While she in thee more beauteous did appear,
What mourning weeds, alas! now dost thou wear!
How loathsome to mine eyes is thy sad sight
How poorly look'st thou, with what heavy cheer,
Since that sun set, which made thee shine so bright
Unhappy now thee close, for as of late
To wond'ring eyes thou wast a paradise,
Bereft of her who made thee fortunate,
A gulf thou art, whence clouds of sighs arise;
But unto none so noisome as to me,
Who hourly see my murder'd joys in thee.