Ivvenilia | ||
Eleg. 33.
[And well might we of weakest substance melt]
And well might we of weakest substance meltWith tender passion for his timelesse end,
Sith (as it seem'd) the purer bodies felt
Some griefe for this their sweet departed friend;
The Sunne wrapt up in clowds of mournfull black,
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And would have staid, or turn'd his horses back,
If Nature had not forc'd him on with speed:
Yea, and the heavens wept a pearly dew,
Like very tears, not so as if it rain'd,
His Grandsires Tombes, as if the stones did rue
Our wofull losses, were with moisture stain'd:
Yea, either 'twas my easie mindes beliefe;
Or all things were disposed unto griefe.
Ivvenilia | ||