Classic Poem

Since wayling is a bud of causefull sorrow,
Since sorrow is the follower of euill fortune,
Since no euill fortune equals publike damage;
Now Prince's losse hath made our damage publike,
Sorrow, pay we to thee the rights of Nature,
And inward griefe seale vp with outward wayling.

Why should, we spare our voice from endlesse wayling,
Who iustly make our hearts the seate of sorrow,
In such a case, where it appears that Nature
Doth adde her force vnto the sting of Fortune!
Choosing, alas, this our theatre publike,
Where they would leaue trophees of cruell damage.

Then since such pow'rs conspir'd vnto our damage
(Which may be knowne, but neuer helpt with wayling),
Yet let vs leaue a monument in publike,
Of willing teares, torne haires, and cries of sorrowe;
For lost, lost is, by blow of cruell fortune,
Arcadia's gemme, the noblest childe of Nature.

O Nature doting-old, O blinded Nature,
How hast thou torne thyselfe, sought thine owne danger,
In granting such a scope to filthy Fortune,
By thy impe's losse to fill the world with wayling!
Cast thy stepmother eyes vpon our sorrow;
Publike our losse; so, see, thy shame is publike.

O that we had, to make our woes more publique,
Seas in our eyes, and brasen tongues by nature,
A yelling voice, and hearts compos'd of sorrow,
Breath made of flames, wits knowing nought but damage;
Our sports, murdring our selues; our musiques, wayling;
Our studies, fixt vpon the falls of fortune.

No, no; our mischiefe growes in this vile fortune, —
That priuate paines can not breathe out in publique
The furious inward griefes with hellish wayling;
But forced are to burthen feeble nature
With secret sense of our eternall damage,
And sorrow feed, feeding our soules with sorrow.

Since sorrow, then, concludeth all our fortune,
With all our deaths shew we this damage publique:
His nature feares to dye, who liues still wayling.