Them for their owne, and doe like sorrowe make: As for their owne begot, as they pretended Hope in the issue, which should haue discended 60 From them againe; nor here doth end our sorrow, But those of vs, that shall be borne to morrowe Still shall lament them, and when time shall count, To what vast number passed yeares shall mount, They from their death shall duly reckon so, As from the Deluge, former vs'd to doe. O cruell _Humber_ guilty of their gore, I now beleeue more then I did before The _Brittish_ Story, whence thy name begun Of Kingly _Humber_, an inuading _Hun_, 70 By thee deuoured, for't is likely thou With blood wert Christned, bloud-thirsty till now. The _Ouse_, the _Done_, and thou farre clearer _Trent_, To drowne the SHEFFIELDS as you gaue consent, Shall curse the time, that ere you were infus'd, Which haue your waters basely thus abus'd. The groueling Boore yee hinder not to goe, And at his pleasure Ferry to and fro. The very best part of whose soule, and bloud, Compared with theirs, is viler then your mud. 80 But wherefore paper, doe I idely spend, On those deafe waters to so little end, And vp to starry heauen doe I not looke, In which, as in an euerlasting booke, Our ends are written; O let times rehearse Their fatall losse, in their sad Aniuerse. To the noble Lady, the Lady I.S. _of worldly crosses_