I ran, I flew, I came, but all in vain:
Both now beneath the fatal stone reposed,
And I my height of anguish to attain,
But found the covering earth yet newly closed.
Thou in thy grave affliction more hast found
Thee to console, if possible; (how turn
Rebels against me thy own woes around!
From my rude voice perforce thou hast to learn
That he who fortune flatter’d not before,
Will neither flatter grief) thou in thy loss