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- <poem>
The general sorrow that was made Among the creatures of kind, Fired the Phoenix where she laid, Her ashes flying with the wind.
So as I might with reason see That such a Phoenix ne'er should be.
Haply, the cinders driven about, May breed an offspring near that kind; But hardly a peer to that, I doubt: It cannot sink into my mind
That under branches e'er can be, Of worth and value as the tree.
The eagle marked with piercing sight The mournful habit of the place; And parted thence with mounting flight, To signify to JOVE the case:
What sorrow Nature doth sustain, For ASTROPHIL, by ENVY slain.
And while I followed with mine eye The flight the eagle upward took; All things did vanish by and by, And disappearèd from my look.
The trees, beasts, birds and grove were gone: So was the friend that made this moan.
- <poem>
