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Me with thee, to the place of rest where thou art gone?"
This said, she held her peace, for sorrow tied her tongue:
And instead of more words, seemed that her eyes a lake
Of tears had been, they flowed so plenteously therefrom:
And with her sobs and sighs th'air round about her rung.
  If Venus when she wailed her dear ADONIS slain,
Ought moved in thy fierce heart, compassion of her woe:
His noble sister's plaints, her sighs and tears emong;
Would sure have made thee mild, and inly rue her pain.
Aurora half so fair, herself did never show;
When from old TITHON's bed, she weeping did arise.
The blinded archer-boy, like lark in shower of rain,
Sat bathing of his wings, and glad the time did spend
Under those crystal drops which fell from her fair eyes;
And at their brightest beams him proined in lovely wise.
Yet sorry for her grief, which he could not amend;
The gentle boy 'gan wipe her eyes, and clear those lights:
Those lights through which his glory and his conquests shine.
The Graces tuckt her hair, which hung like threads of gold
Along her ivory breast, the treasure of delights.
All things with her to weep, it seemèd did incline;
The trees, the hills, the dales, the caves, the stones so cold.
The air did help them mourn, with dark clouds, rain and mist;
Forbearing many a day to clear itself again:
Which made them eftsoons fear the days of PYRRHA should
Of creatures spoil the earth, their fatal threads untwist.