Orpheus to Beasts
I.
Here, here, oh here! Euridice,
Here was she slaine ;
Her soule 'still’d through a veine:
The Gods knew lesse
That time Divinitie,
Then ev’n, ev’n these
Of brutishnesse.
II.
Oh could you view the Melodie
Of ev’ry grace,
And Musick of her face,
You’d drop a teare,
Seeing more Harmonie
In her bright eye,
Then now you heare.
