Of that sad time a witnesse maist thou bee,
When death did take so many sonnes from thee;
Whose funerall rites inconsolate alone,
When thou vnkindly left, didst kindly mone,
Who staid with thee, alas, to helpe thee mourne,
And fled not from thee, leauing thee forlorne?
Mongst whom, though I, strooke terror-sicke with dread
Of heau’n’s hot plague, was one that from thee fled:
Yet of thy sight I daily did partake,
Which of thy woes a partner did me make: