I.
Here, here, oh here!
CE, Here was she slaine;
Her soule 'still'd through a veine: The gods knew
That time divinitie, Then ev'n, ev'n these Of brutishnesse. II.
Oh! could you view the melodie Of ev'ry grace,
And musick of her face, You'd drop a teare,
Seeing more harmonie In her bright eye, Then now you heare.