3340His ashes are in Darwey Abbey laid,
But his faint ghost walks i' th' Elysian shade.'
'But is he dead?' says she, and loudly shrieked,
Which waked Narcissus' hate to second her,
Her rosies dewed with melting crystal reeked,
And sorrow did her trembling heart inter.
Symptoms of sad deplorings ne'er were known,
Which were not in her sharp lamentings shown.
'Choice maid,' quoth he, 'do not destroy your rosies,
And blast your beauty with such scalding sighs.