University of Virginia Library



VVhen the melodious shrill toung'd Nightingale,
With heauie cheere had warbled this sad tale:
Nights drowsie God an iuorie Cannopie,
Curtaines before the windowes of faire beautie.
Drown'd thus in sleepe, she spent the wearie night,
There leaue I Hero in a heauie plight.
Now to the woefull Pilgrime I returne,
Whose passions force the gentle birdes to mourne.
They see Leander weepe, with heauie note
They faintly singe, as when they singe by rote:
While he gan descant on his miserie,
The pretie fowles doe make him melodie.