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What kind of marble, than,
Is that colil man

Who can look on and see,
Nor keep such noble sorrowes company ?

Sure eu'en from you

(My flints) some drops are due, To see so many unkind sworis contest

So fast for one soft brest :
While with a faithfull, mutuall floud,
Her eyes bleeıl teares, His wounds weep blooul.

20

III.

() costly intercourse
Of deaths, and worse-

Diuided loues. While Son and mother
Discourse alternate wounds to one another,
Quick leaths that grow

25 And gather, as they come and goe : His nailes write sworis in her, which soon her heart

layes back, with more then their own smart. ller swords, still growing with his pain, Turn speares, and straight come home again.

30

She sees her Son, her Gorli
Dow with a load

35

Of borrow'd sins; and swimme In woes that were not made for Him.

Ah! hard command

Of loue! Here must she stand,
Charg'd to look on, and with a stedfast ey

See her life dy :
Leauing her only so much breath
As serues to keep aliue her death.

40

O mother turtle-doue !
Soft sourse of loue !

That these dry lidds might borrow
Somthing from thy full seas of sorrow!
O in that brest

45 Of thine (the noblest nest Both of Loue's fires and flouds) might I recline

This hard, cold heart of mine!
The chill lump would relent, and proue
Soft subject for the seige of Loue.

50

VI.

O teach those wounds to bleed
In me; me, so to read

This book of loues, thus writ
In lines of death, my life may coppy it

With loyall cares.
O let me, here, claim shares !

5.

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15

What kind of marble, than,
Is that coll min

Who can look on and see,
Vor kerp such noble sorrowes company?

Sure eu'en from you

(My tlints) some drops are due, To see so many unkind swords contest

So fast for one soft brost: While with a faithfull, mutuall soul, ller eyes bleed teares, Ilis wounds weep bloodl.

20

III.

( costly intercourse
Of deaths, and worse--

Diuided loues. While Son and mother
Discourse alternate wounds to one another,
Quick deaths that grow

25 And gather, as they come and goe : llis nailes write swords in her, which soon her heart

Payes back, with more then their own smart. ller swords, still growing with lIis pain, Turn speares, and straight come home again.

30

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35

Of borrow'd sins; and swimme In woes that were not made for Him.

Ah ! hard command

Of loue! Here must she stand,
Charg'd to look on, and with a stedfast ey

See her life dy:
Leauing her only so much breath
As serues to keep aliue her death.

40

V.

O mother turtle-doue !
Soft sourse of loue !

That these dry lidds might borrow
Somthing from thy full seas of sorrow!
O in that brest

45 Of thine (the noblest nest Both of Loue's fires and flouds) might I recline

This hard, cold heart of mine!
The chill lump would relent, and proue
Soft subject for the seige of Loue.

50

VI.

O teach those wounds to bleed
In me; me, so to read

This book of loues, thus writ
In lines of death, my life may coppy it

With loyall cares.
O let me, here, claim shares !

55

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15.

What kind of marble, than,
Is that cold man

Who can look on and see,
Nor keep such noble sorrowes company?

Sure eu'en from you

(My flints) some drops are due, To see so many ukinil sworils contest

So fast for one soft lorest : Hile with a faithfull, mutuall foul, ller eyes bleed teares, His wounds weep blooil.

20

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( costly intercourse
Of deaths, and worse-

Diuiled loues. While Son and mother
Discourse alternate wounds to one another,
Quick deaths that grow

25 And gather, as they come and goe : llis nailes write swords in her, which soon her heart

Payes back, with more then their own smart. ller swords, still growing with His pain, Turn speares, and straight come home again.

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