H. His Deuises for his owne exercise, and his Friends pleasure [by Thomas Howell] |
 |
|
The lamentable ende of Iulia Pompeis Wyfe.
|
 | H. His Deuises |  |
The lamentable ende of Iulia Pompeis Wyfe.
Sore
plungde in greeuous paynes and wofull smarte,
Bedewed with trickling teares on Death like face:
Downe trylles the drops on cheekes & sighs from hart,
To heare and see her husbands dolefull case.
Thus goes thys spouse, the wofull Iulia,
Besprent with bloud, when Pompeis Cote she saw,
Bedewed with trickling teares on Death like face:
Downe trylles the drops on cheekes & sighs from hart,
To heare and see her husbands dolefull case.
Thus goes thys spouse, the wofull Iulia,
Besprent with bloud, when Pompeis Cote she saw,
Downe dead she falles in lamentable sounde,
Of sence bereft (so great was sorrowes strayne)
The chylde conceyude within by deadly wounde,
Untymely fruite came forth with pinching payne.
When all was done, for loue her lyfe she lost,
For Pompeis sake, shee yeelded vp her Ghost.
Of sence bereft (so great was sorrowes strayne)
The chylde conceyude within by deadly wounde,
Untymely fruite came forth with pinching payne.
When all was done, for loue her lyfe she lost,
For Pompeis sake, shee yeelded vp her Ghost.
So dead she laye, bewaylde with many teares,
A Matrone wise, a famous Ornament:
O Cæsar she had seene full cheerefull yeares,
If thou with Pompey couldst haue bene content,
But ciuill warres hath wrought this fatall stryfe,
To Pompey death, to Iulia losse of lyfe.
A Matrone wise, a famous Ornament:
If thou with Pompey couldst haue bene content,
But ciuill warres hath wrought this fatall stryfe,
To Pompey death, to Iulia losse of lyfe.
| H. His Deuises | |