Our aery buildeth in the cedar’s top,
265 And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun.
Q. Mar. And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas!
[♦] Witness my son, now in the shade of death;
Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath
Hath in eternal darkness folded up.
[270] Your aery buildeth in our aery’s nest.
O God, that seest it, do not suffer it;
[♦] As it was won with blood, lost be it so!
[♦] Buck. Have done! for shame, if not for charity.