By feare constrain’d, with griefe they go their way.
55.
Inconsolatly left in wofull plight,
Each helping other for to waile and weepe,
In dole we spend the day, and in the night
Horror and dread of death doth waking keepe
Our watchfull eyes, and bars them of their sleepe,
Each little noise, each windie puffe of breath
Affrights vs infants with th’approch of death.
56.