Sad Una downe her laies in wearie plight,
And at her feete the Lyon watch doth keepe:
In stead of rest, she does lament, and weepe
For the late losse of her deare loved knight,
And sighes, and grones, and ever more does steepe
Her tender brest in bitter teares all night,
All night she thinks too long, and often lookes for light.
XVI
Now when Aldeboran[°] was mounted hie