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Tears at the Grave of Sir Albertus Morton (who was buried at Southampton) wept by Sir H. Wotton.
SIlence (in truth) would speak my sorrow best,
For, deepest wounds can least their feelings tell;
Yet, let me borrow from mine own unrest,
But time to bid him, whom I lov'd, farewel.
O my unhappy lines! you that before
Have serv'd my youth to vent some vvanton cries,
And now congeal'd vvith grief, can scarce implore
Strength to accent! Here my Albertus lies.
This is the sable Stone, this is the Cave,
And vvomb of earth that doth his Corps embrace;
VVhile others sing his praise, let me engrave
These bleeding Numbers to adorn the place.
Here vvill I paint the Characters of vvoe,
Here vvill I pay my tribute to the Dead,
And here my faithful tears in showers shall flovv,
To humanize the Flints vvhereon I tread.
VVhere though I mourn my matchless loss alone,
And none between my vveakness judge and me;
Yet even these gentle vvalls allovv my moan,
VVhose doleful Ecchoes to my Plaints agree.
But is he gone? and live I rhyming here,
As if some Muse vvould listen to my Lay,
VVhen all distun'd sit vvaiting for their Dear,
And bathe the Banks vvhere he vvas vvont to play?