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Pharonnida

A Heroick Poem. By William Chamberlayne
  
  

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When ventring on this precipice of fate,
We slowly sallied forth, 'twas cold and late,
The drowsie guard asleep, the Centries hid
Close in their huds did shivering stand, and chid
The whistling winds with chatring teeth, when now
A leave as solemn as haste would allow,
Of all our friends, our mourning friends, being took,
We like the earth vail'd all in white forsook
Our salliport, whilst slowly marching ore
The new faln snow, thee in his arms he bore.