University of Virginia Library


469

Eleg. 17.

Rivers of marish teares have over-flowne
My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone
So sharpe as silence, to bewaile that woe,
Whose flowing Tides, an Ebbe could never know:
Weepe on (mine eyes) mine eyes shall never cease;
Speake on (my Tongue) forget to hold thy peace;
Cease not thy teares; close not thy lips so long,
Til heaven shal wipe thine eies, & heare thy tongue:
What heart of brasse, what Adamantine brest
Can know the torments of my soule, and rest?
What stupid braine, (ah me!) what marble eye
Can see these, these my ruines, and not cry?