But why, Urania, hangst thou so thy head, What grievous loss hath reft thy joys away; Quoth she, knows not Apollo QUARLES is dead, That next to BARTAS, sang the heavenliest lay, And who is he on earth, his steps can tread, So shal my glory come unto decay; At this she wept, and wailing wrung her hands, The Muses mourning round about her stands.
