V.

Can, ah, can we leave our moanes? 25 And our groanes Under Syons ruines bury? Can we in this Land sing Layes In the praise Of our God, and here be merry? 30

No; deare Syon, if I yet Do forget Thine affliction miserable, Let my nimble joynts become Stiffe and numme, 35 To touch warbling harpe unable.

Let my tongue lose singing skill, Let it still To my parched roofe be glewed, If in either harpe or voice 40 I rejoyce, Till thy joyes shall be renewed.