If not with wordes, Ile moue them with my teares.
But ah (alas) my Teares are spent in vaine,
(For she is dead, and I am left aliue)
Teares cannot call, sweet Bounty backe againe;
Then why doe I, gainst Fate and Fortune striue?
And for her death, thus weepe, lament, and crie;
Sith euery mortall wight, is borne to die.
But as the woefull mother doeth lament,
Her tender babe, with cruell Death opprest: