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John Bartlet


A Booke of Ayres

1606

II. If euer haples woman had a cause

   1  If euer haples woman had a cause
       To breath her plaintes into the open ayre
       And neuer suffer inward griefe to pause
       Or seeke her sorrow shaken soules repayre
       Then I for I haue lost my onelie brother
       Whose like this age can scarsly yeeld another.

   2  Come therefore mournefull Muses and lament,
       Forsake all wanton pleasing motions,
       Bedew your cheekes, stil shal my teares be spent:
       Yet still increast with inundations.
       For I must weepe, since I haue lost my brother.
       Whose like, &c.

   3  The cruell hand of murther cloyde with bloud,
       Lewdly depriude him of his mortall life :
       Woe the death attended blades that stoode,
       In opposition gainst him in the strife,
       Wherein he fell, and where I lost my brother,
       Whose like &c.

   4  Then vnto griefe let me a Temple make,
       And mourning dayly, enter sorrowes portes,
       Knocke on my breast, sweete brother for thy sake,
       And helpe my aye to wayle my onely brother,
       Then I for I haue lost my onelie brother
       Whose like this age can scarsely yeeld another.
    

 

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