1651149As the poore frighted Deare that stands at gaze,

1150Wildly determining which way to flie,

1151Or one incompast with a winding maze,

1152That cannot tread the way out readilie:

1153So with her selfe is shee in mutinie,

1154 To liue or die which of the twaine were better,

1155 When life is sham'd and death reproches detter.

1661156To kill my selfe, quoth shee, alacke what were it,

1157But with my body my poore soules pollusion?

1158They that loose halfe with greater patience beare it,

1159Then they whose whole is swallowed in confusion.

1160That mother tries a mercilesse conclusion,

1161 Who hauing two sweet babes, when death takes (one,

1162 Will slay the other, and be nurse to none.

1671163My bodie or my soule which was the dearer?

1164When the one pure, the other made deuine,

1165Whose loue of eyther to my selfe was nearer?

1166When both were kept for Heauen and COLATINE:

1167Ay me, the Barke pild from the loftie Pine,

1168 His leaues will wither, and his sap decay,

1169 So must my soule her barke being pild away.