Madrigalls to fovre voyces | ||
XV. O Griefe
O griefe, where shall poore griefe find patient hearing,Footsteps of men I flie, my pathes each creature balking:
Wild and vnhaunted woods, seeme tired with my walking.
Earth with my teares are drunke: Aire with my sighes, tormented:
Heauens with my crying, growne deafe, and discontented:
Infernall eares affrighted, with my dolefull accenting:
Onely my loue, lou's my lamenting.
Madrigalls to fovre voyces | ||