It mou'd compassion in this ruthfull Dame:
And thinking on her Sonnes sad destinie,
With mournfull teares she beares her companie.
Great was the mone, which faire Cassandra made:
Greater the kindnesse, which Aurora shew'd:
Whose sorrow with the sunne began to fade,
And her moist teares on th'earths green grasse bestow'd:
Kissing the flowers with her siluer dew,
Whose fading beautie, seem'd her case to rew.
Scarce was the lonely Easterne Queene departed,