University of Virginia Library


125

6. To the Most Disconsolate Great Brittaine.

When pale famine fed on thee
With her insatiate jawes;
When civill broyles set murder free,
Contemning all thy lawes;
When heav'n, enrag'd, consum'd thee so
With plagues, that none thy face could know,
Yet in thy lookes affliction then shew'd lesse
Then now for ones fall all thy parts expresse.
Now thy highest States lament
A sonne, and Brothers losse;
Thy nobles mourne in discontent,
And rue this fatall crosse;
Thy Commons are with passion sad
To thinke how brave a Prince they had:
If all thy rockes from white to blacke should turne,
Yet couldst thou not in shew more amply mourne.