[BNP/E3, 13 – 7]

Song of[1] Prospero.

My broken rod shall[2] underground

     For ever buried be[3];

Deeper than e’er did plummet sound.

     My[4] book I’ll sink in the sea.

          Prospero’s charms are fled,

          Magic and art are dead,

Dead and sunk in the hollow sea.

The joyful spirits of the air

     No[5] more are bounded to me,

Light and good and frail and fair,[6]

     Sunk is in the[7] hollow sea.

          |Though I[8] see no strife again,

          Yet I’ll wish for this life again|

Sunk for e’er in the[9] hollow sea.

               Charles Robert Anon. 

[7^v]

Because there is no longer any world

Because there is no longer any world

[1] of ^/de\

[2] My ^/meu\ broken rod shall ^/futuro\

[3] be ^/sou\

[4] My ^/meu\

[5] No ^/não\

[6] Light and ^/e\ good and ^/e\ frail and ^/e\ fair, ^{/What called them came from there\}

[7] are is in the ^/o\

[8] I ^/eu\

[9] the ^/o\