Never lets any scape thy constant justice,
Yet now prevent that length. Flye, flye, and here
Fixe thy steele foot-steps; here, O here, where still10
Earth (mov'd with pittie) yeelded and embrac'd
My loves faire figure, drawne in his deare bloud,
And mark'd the place, to show thee where was done
The cruell'st murther that ere fled the sunne.
O Earth! why keep'st thou not as well his spirit,15
To give his forme life? No, that was not earthly;
That (rarefying the thinne and yeelding ayre)