1761051And being opend, threw vnwilling light,

1052Vpon the wide wound, that the boare had trencht

1053In his soft flanke, whose wonted lillie white

1054With purple tears that his wound wept, had drēcht.

1055 No floure was nigh, no grasse, hearb, leaf, or weed,

1056 But stole his blood, and seemd with him to bleed.

1771057This solemne sympathie, poore Venus noteth,

1058Ouer one shoulder doth she hang her head,

1059Dumblie she passions, frantikely she doteth,

1060She thinkes he could not die, he is not dead,

1061 Her voice is stopt, her ioynts forget to bow,

1062 Her eyes are mad, that they haue wept till now.

1781063Vpon his hurt she lookes so stedfastly,

1064That her sight dazling, makes the wound seem three,

1065And then she reprehends her mangling eye,

1066That makes more gashes, where no breach shuld be:

1067 His face seems twain, ech seuerall lim is doubled,

1068 For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled

1791069My tongue cannot expresse my griefe for one,

1070And yet (quoth she) behold two Adons dead,

1071My sighes are blowne away, my salt teares gone,

1072Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead,

1073 Heauie hearts lead melt at mine eyes red fire,

1074 So shall I die by drops of hot desire.

1801075Alas poore world what treasure hast thou lost,

1076What face remains aliue that's worth the viewing?

1077Whose tongue is musick now? What cāst thou boast,

1078Of things long since, or any thing insuing?

1079 The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh, and trim,

1080 But true sweet beautie liu'd, and di'de with him.