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- That to heare her fo compfaine,
Scarce I could from teares refraine:
For her griefes fo listely thowne,
Made me thinke vponmine owne.
Ah! choughe I) thou mournit in vaine,
None takes pity on thy pause:
Senfieffe Trees, they cannot heare thee,
Ruthieffe Beares, they will not cheere thee.
King Pandion, he is dead:
All thy friends are lapt in Lead.
All thy fellow Birds doe fing,
Careleffe of thy forrowing.
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