[XXIIII. There's not a groue that wonders not my woe]
There's not a groue that wonders not my woe
There's not a groue that wonders not my woe,
Nor not a Rider weepes not at my tale, I heare the Eccho's,
I heare the Eccho's, (wandring too and fro,)
(wandring too and fro,) I heare the Eccho's, I heare
the Eccho's, (wandring too and fro) too and fro, too and fro,
too and fro, Resound my griefe, my griefe through euery
hill and dale, resound my griefe, through euery hill and dale,
through euery hill and dale,
The Birds and beasts yet in their simple kinde, lament for me,
no pitty else, no pitty else, I finde, no pitty else I finde, And teares I finde doe
bring no other good, But as new showers, encrease the rising flood, but
But as new showers, encrease the rising flood.
