Or Pillades did rue, Orestes ende:
If Hercules, for Hylas losse were quailed;
Or Theseus, for Pyrithous Teares did spende:
When doe I mourne for Bounty, being dead:
Who liuing, was my hand, my hart, my head.
My hand, to helpe mee, in my greatest need:
My hart, to comfort mee, in my distresse:
My head, whom onely I obeyd, indeed:
If she were such, how can my griefe be lesse?
Perhaps my wordes, may pierce the Parcæ's eares;