“Lucasta wept, and still the bright
Enamor’d god of day,
With his soft handkerchief of light,
Kiss’d the wet pearls away.”
And—
“If tears could wash the ill away,
A pearl for each wet bead I’d pay.”
In Chalkhill’s “Thealma and Clearchus,” we find of the former:
“Anon she drops a tear,
That stole along her cheeks, and falling down,