1591107The little birds that tune their mornings ioy,

1108Make her mones mad, with their sweet melodie,

1109"For mirth doth search the bottome of annoy,

1110"Sad soules are slaine in merrie companie,

1111"Griefe best is pleas'd with griefes societie;

1112 "True sorrow then is feelinglie suffiz'd,

1113 "When with like semblance it is simpathiz'd.

1601114"Tis double death to drowne in ken of shore,

1115"He ten times pines, that pines beholding food,

1116"To see the salue doth make the wound ake more:

1117"Great griefe greeues most at that wold do it good;

1118"Deepe woes roll forward like a gentle flood,

1119 Who being stopt, the boūding banks oreflowes,

1120 Griefe dallied with, nor law, nor limit knowes.

1611121You mocking Birds (quoth she) your tunes intombe

1122Within your hollow swelling feathered breasts,

1123And in my hearing be you mute and dumbe,

1124My restlesse discord loues no stops nor rests:

1125"A woefull Hostesse brookes not merrie guests.

1126 Ralish your nimble notes to pleasing eares,

1127 "Distres likes dūps whē time is kept with teares.