Page:An English Garner Ingatherings from Our History and Literature (Volume 1 1877).pdf/296

 His word, "was slain," straightway did move, And Nature's inward life-strings twitch, The sky immediately above, Was dimmed with hideous clouds of pitch. The wrastling winds, from out the ground Filled all the air with rattling sound.

The bending trees expressed a groan, And sighed the sorrow of his fall; The forest beasts made ruthful moan; The birds did tune their mourning call, And Philomel for Astrophil, Unto her notes, annexed a "phil."

The turtle dove with tones of ruth, Showed feeling passion of his death; Methought she said "I tell thee truth, Was never he that drew in breath, Unto his love more trusty found,  Than he for whom our griefs abound."

The swan that was in presence here, Began his funeral dirge to sing; "Good things," quoth he, "may scarce appear; But pass away with speedy wing. This mortal life as death is tried,  And death gives life, and so he died."