SONG.
Stre. Orpheus I am, come from the deeps below,
To thee fond man the plagues of love to show:
To the fair fields where loves eternal dwell
There's none that come, but first they pass through hell:
Hark and beware unless thou hast lov'd ever,
Belov'd again, thou shalt see those joyes never.
Hark how they groan that dy'd despairing,
O take heed then:
Hark how they howl for over-daring,
All these were men.
They that be fools, and dye for fame
They lose their name;
And they that bleed
Hark how they speed.
Now in cold frosts, now scorching fires
They sit, and curse their lost desires:
Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears,
Till Women waft them over in their tears.
Mem. How should I know my passage is deni'd me?
Or which of all the Devils dare?
Eumen. This Song
Was rarely form'd to fit him.