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THE WANDERING PRINCE OP TROT. 211
Unto thy lure a gentle hart, Which unto thee much welcome made; My sister deare, and Carthage' joy, Whose folly bred her deere annoy. so
" Yett on her death-bed when shee lay,
Shee prayd for thy prosperitye, Beseeching God, that every day Might breed thy great felicitye: Thus by thy meanes I lost a friend; a>
Heaven send thee such untimely end."
When he these lines, full fraught with gall,
Perused had, and wayed them right, His lofty courage then did fall;
And straight appeared in his sight 100
Queene Dido's ghost, both grim and pale ; Which made this valliant souldier quaile.
" JSneas," quoth this ghastly ghost,
" My whole delight, when I did live, Thee of all men I loved most; , ioe
My fancy and my will did give; For entertainment I thee gave, Unthankefully thou didst me grave.
" Therfore prepare thy flitting soule
To wander with me in the aire, 110
Where deadlye griefe shall make it howle, Because of me thou tookst no care: Delay not time, thy glasse is run, Thy date is past, thy life is done." |
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