1 If euer haples woman had a cause To breath her plaintes into the open ayre And neuer suffer inward griefe to pause Or seeke her sorrow shaken soules repayre Then I for I haue lost my onelie brother Whose like this age can scarsly yeeld another. 2 Come therefore mournefull Muses and lament, Forsake all wanton pleasing motions, Bedew your cheekes, stil shal my teares be spent: Yet still increast with inundations. For I must weepe, since I haue lost my brother. Whose like, &c. 3 The cruell hand of murther cloyde with bloud, Lewdly depriude him of his mortall life : Woe the death attended blades that stoode, In opposition gainst him in the strife, Wherein he fell, and where I lost my brother, Whose like &c. 4 Then vnto griefe let me a Temple make, And mourning dayly, enter sorrowes portes, Knocke on my breast, sweete brother for thy sake, And helpe my aye to wayle my onely brother, Then I for I haue lost my onelie brother Whose like this age can scarsely yeeld another.
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