But as the woefull mother doeth lament, Her tender babe, with cruell Death opprest: Whose life was spotlesse, pure, and innocent, (And therefore sure, it[s] soule is gone to rest) So _Bountie_, which her selfe did vpright keepe, Yet for her losse, loue cannot chuse but weepe. The losse of her, is losse to many a one: The losse of her, is losse vnto the poore: And therefore not a losse, to mee alone, But vnto such, as goe from Doore to Doore. Her losse, is losse vnto the fatherlesse; And vnto all, that are in great distresse. The maimed Souldier, comming from the warre, The woefull wight, whose house was lately burnd; The sillie soule; the wofull Traueylar; And all, whom Fortune at her feet hath spurnd; Lament the losse of _Liberalitie:_ "Its ease, to haue in griefe some Companie." The Wife of _Hector_ (sad _Andromache_) Did not bewaile, her husbands death alone: But (sith he was the _Troians_ onely stay) The wiues of _Troy_ (for him) made æquall mone. Shee, shead the teares of Loue; and they of pittie: Shee, for her deare dead Lord; they, for their Cittie. Nor is the Death of _Liberalitie_, (Although my griefe be greater than the rest) Onely lamented, and bewaild of mee; (And yet of mee, she was beloued best) But, sith she was so bountifull to all, She is lamented, both of great and small. O that my Teares could moue the powres diuine, That _Bountie_ might be called from the dead: As Pitty pierc'd the hart of _Proserpine;_ Who (moued with the Teares _Admetus_ shead) Did sende him backe againe, his louing Wife; Who lost her owne, to saue her husbands life. Impartiall _Parcæ_, will no prayers moue you? Can Creatures so diuine, haue stony harts? Haplesse are they, whose hap it is to proue you, For you respect no Creatures good Desarts. O _Atropos_, (the cruelst of the three) Why hast thou tane, my faithfull friend from mee? But ah, she cannot (or shee will not) heare me, Or if shee doo, yet may not she repent her: Then come (sweet Death) O why doest thou forbeare me? Aye mee! thy Dart is blunt, it will not enter. Oh now I knowe the cause, and reason why; I am immortall, and I cannot dye. So _Cytheræa_ would haue dide, but could not; When faire _Adonis_ by her side lay slaine: So I desire the Sisters, what I should not; For why (alas) I wish for Death in vaine; Death is their seruant, and obeys their will; And if they bid him spare, he cannot kill. Oh would I were, as other Creatures are; Then would I die, and so my griefe were ended: But Death (against my will) my life doeth spare; (So little with the fates I am befrended) Sith, when I would, thou doost my sute denie, Vile Tyrant, when thou wilt, I will not die.