University of Virginia Library

On Walla's brooke her sisters now bewaile,
For whom the Rocks spend teares when others faile,
And all the Woods ring with their piteous mones:
Which Tauy hearing as he chid the stones,

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That stopt his speedy course, raising his head
Inquir'd the cause, and thus was answered:
Walla is now no more. Nor from the hill
Will she more plucke for thee the Daffadill,
Nor make sweet Anadems to gird thy brow,
Yet in the Groues she runs, a Riuer now.