- description
- # # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
## Overview
This is a chapter extracted from a larger poetry collection, specifically from lines 5808 to 5837 of the source text file. It is part of [Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, Sonnets, and Pericles (Facsimile Editions)](arke:01KG6S3KNZT62WVVW4VT384KPF). The chapter is labeled "# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE."
## Context
This chapter is part of a collection of facsimile editions of William Shakespeare's works, which includes "Venus and Adonis," "Lucrece," "Sonnets," and "Pericles." The collection is derived from the text file [pdf-01KG6Q7Q25RHMFT3SJXPV18VFF.txt](arke:01KG6S2X2EBB305ENM00G16GWA) and is associated with the [PDF Workflow Main Test 2026-01-30T00:26:53](arke:01KG6NWQ2H2K4PGG7H4ZHYCZ3Y) collection. The previous chapter is [THE RAPE OF LYGRECE.](arke:01KG6S4F3XW2RKF6WDXEATZYAA) and the subsequent chapter is [# THE RAPE OF LVCRECE](arke:01KG6S4F43F7ZS8MSK13BA63G7).
## Contents
This chapter contains the initial lines of "THE RAPE OF LVCRECE," including verses on grief, sorrow, and the mocking of birds. It includes the following lines:
"The little birds that tune their mornings joy,
Make her mones mad, with their sweet melodie..."
The chapter also includes a page reference to "[Page 254](arke:01KG6QE9HXFNF0970XA4PJ28N1)".
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- 2026-01-30T06:26:05.457Z
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- description_title
- # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
- end_line
- 5837
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- 2026-01-30T06:23:29.729Z
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- start_line
- 5808
- text
- # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.
The little birds that tune their mornings joy,
Make her mones mad, with their sweet melodie,
“For mirth doth search the bottome of annoy,
“Sad soules are slaine in merrie companie,
“Griefe best is pleas’d with griefees societie;
“True sorrow then is feelinglie suffix’d,
“VVhen with like semblance it is simpathiz’d.
“Tis double death to drowne in ken of shore,
“He ten times pines, that pines beholding food,
“To see the false doth make the wound ake more:
“Great griefe greeues moft at that wold do it good;
“Deepe woes roll forward like a gentle flood,
VVho being stopt, the bouding banks oreflowes,
Griefe dallied with, nor law, nor limit knowes.
You mocking Birds(quoth she)your tunes intombe
VVithin your hollow swelling feathered breasts,
And in my hearing be you mute and dumbe,
My reftleffe difcord loucs no ftops nor refts:
“A woefull Hoftfe fbrookes not merrie guefts.
Ralish your nimble notes to pleasing eares,
“Diftres likes dups whe time is kept with teares.
Come
II. 1107—1127
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- title
- # THE RAPE OF LVCRECE.