371That to heare her so complaine,

372Scarce I could from teares refraine:

373For her griefes so liuely showne,

374Made me thinke vpon mine owne.

375Ah (thought I) thou mournst in vaine,

376None takes pitty on thy paine:

377Senslesse Trees, they cannot heare thee,

378Ruthlesse Beares, they will not cheere thee.

379King Pandion, he is dead:

380All thy friends are lapt in Lead.

381All thy fellow Birds doe sing,

382Carelesse of thy sorrowing.