 | The pilgrime and heremite |  |
And when hee read these bad and noisome Newes,
Which did refresh his Woes, his Hurtes, and Harmes:
Whiles red, whiles pale, hee chaunged manie hewes,
And fell downe, in dead-thraw, betwixt my weake Armes.
And when with my salt Teares I bath'd his pale Face,
His Sprites, and his Breath, came to their owne place.
Hee cryde then, O Death, stay
Thy date, for this halfe day;
That I in writ may bewray
My high great Disgrace.
Which did refresh his Woes, his Hurtes, and Harmes:
Whiles red, whiles pale, hee chaunged manie hewes,
And fell downe, in dead-thraw, betwixt my weake Armes.
And when with my salt Teares I bath'd his pale Face,
His Sprites, and his Breath, came to their owne place.
Hee cryde then, O Death, stay
Thy date, for this halfe day;
That I in writ may bewray
My high great Disgrace.
| The pilgrime and heremite | |