Huge oaks, hard adamants might she have moved,
And with sweet words caus[ed] deaf rocks to have loved.
Worthy she was to move both gods and men,
But neither was I man nor livèd then.60
Can deaf ears[396] take delight when Phæmius sings?
Or Thamyris in curious painted things?
What sweet thought is there but I had the same?
And one gave place still as another came.
Yet notwithstanding, like one dead it lay,
Drooping more than a rose pulled yesterday.