410 Or where shall I finde lamentable cryes, And mournfull tunes enough my griefe to show? Helpe, O thou Tragick Muse, me to devise Notes sad enough, t'expresse this bitter throw: For loe, the drerie stownd* is now arrived, 415 That of all happines hath us deprived.

No other noyse, nor peoples troublous cryes, As still are wont t'annoy the walled towne, Might there be heard: but carelesse Quiet lyes, Wrapt in eternal silence farre from enimyes.

O, who shall powre into my swollen eyes 115 A sea of teares that never may be dryde, A brasen voice that may with shrilling cryes Pierce the dull heavens and fill the ayër wide, And yron sides that sighing may endure, To waile the wretchednes of world impure!