Beare him my hart, slaine with her scornefull eye, (10) Where sticks the arrow that poore hart did kill: With whose sharpe pyle, yet will him ere hee die, About my hart to write his latest will. And bid him send it backe to mee, at instant of his dying: (15) That cruell, cruell she may see, my faith and her denying.
His Hearse shall be a mournefull Cypres shade, And for a Chauntrie, Philomels sweet lay: +Where prayer shall continually be made, (20) By Pilgrime louers, passing by that way. With Nimphs and Shepheards yeerely mone, his timelesse death beweeping: And telling that my hart alone, hath his last will in keeping.
FINIS. Mich. Drayton.