II.
“What hart so stonie hard but that would weepe. And poure forth fountaines of incessant teares? What Timon but would let compassion creepe Into his breast, and pierce his frosen eares? In stead of teares, whose brackish bitter well 250 I wasted have, my heart bloud dropping weares, To think to ground how that faire blossome fell.
“Yet fell she not as one enforst to dye, Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent, But as one toyld with travell downe doth lye, 255 So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went, And closde her eyes with carelesse quietriesse; The whiles soft death away her spirit hent*, And soule assoyld** from sinfull fleshlinesse. [* _Hent_, took] [** _Assoyld_, absolved.]
“Yet ere that life her lodging did forsake, 260 She, all resolv’d, and readie to remove, Calling to me (ay me!) this wise bespake; ‘Alcyon! ah, my first and latest love! Ah! why does my Alcyon weepe and mourne, And grieve my ghost, that ill mote him behove, 265 As if to me had chaunst some evill tourne!
“‘I, since the messenger is come for mee That summons soules unto the bridale feast Of his great Lord, must needs depart from thee, And straight obay his soveraine beheast; 270 Why should Alcyon then so sore lament That I from miserie shall be releast, And freed from wretched long imprisonment!
“‘Our daies are full of dolour and disease. Our life afflicted with incessant paine, 275 That nought on earth may lessen or appease; Why then should I desire here to remaine! Or why should he that loves me sorrie bee For my deliverance, or at all complaine My good to heare, and toward* ioyes to see! 280 [* _Toward,_ preparing, near at hand.]
“‘I goe, and long desired have to goe; I goe with gladnesse to my wished rest, Whereas* no worlds sad care nor wasting woe May come, their happie quiet to molest; But saints and angels in celestiall thrones 285 Eternally Him praise that hath them blest; There shall I be amongst those blessed ones. [* _Whereas,_ where.]
“‘Yet, ere I goe, a pledge I leave with thee Of the late love the which betwixt us past; My young Ambrosia; in lieu of mee, 290 Love her; so shall our love for ever last. Thus, deare! adieu, whom I expect ere long.’— So having said, away she softly past; Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make mine undersong.