 | Argalvs and Parthenia |  |
Thou saddest of all Muses; come; afford
Thy studious helpe, that each confounding word
May rend a heart (at least;) that euery line
May pickle vp a kingdome in the brine
Of their owne teares: O teach me to extract
The spirit of griefe, whose vertue may distract
Those brests, which sorrow knowes not how to kill;
Inspier, ô inspire my melting Quill,
And, like sad Niobé, let euery one
That cannot melt, be turn'd into a stone:
Teach me to paint an oft-repeated sigh
So to the life, that whosoe're be nigh
May heare it breathe, and learne to doe the like
By imitation, till true passion strike
Their bleeding hearts: Let such as shall rehearse
This story, houle like Irish at a Herse.
Thy studious helpe, that each confounding word
May rend a heart (at least;) that euery line
May pickle vp a kingdome in the brine
Of their owne teares: O teach me to extract
The spirit of griefe, whose vertue may distract
Those brests, which sorrow knowes not how to kill;
Inspier, ô inspire my melting Quill,
And, like sad Niobé, let euery one
That cannot melt, be turn'd into a stone:
Teach me to paint an oft-repeated sigh
So to the life, that whosoe're be nigh
May heare it breathe, and learne to doe the like
By imitation, till true passion strike
52
This story, houle like Irish at a Herse.
| Argalvs and Parthenia | |