eternall counsell,
or else I feare the nere-erturned dead
Clad in the fearefull shapes of night and hell,
will rife before the general day be spred;
and hurrie me in flesh to Acheron,
To taste hels torture both in soule and bone:
Then blast me thunderer in righteous ire,
and I like _Semele_ wil meete thy fire.

The Gods to her last wish was tractable.
her tongue percullist twice was as she spake:
aire was her voice, and Mirrha now not able,
to thanke the Gods, her ioynts in sunder brake.
Leaues were her locks, of golden haire bereau'd,
her armes long boughes, deem & be not deceiu'd
tree gan she be, yet twixt her thing so staid,
you could not say she was or tree or maide.

First grew her hayre vp like the Summer Corne,
or as a blazing starre whose streames rise vpward
& being changd, fell leaues, that vp were borne,
by the rude windes, yet had you but haue heard
You'd sware, a sigh for Mirrha's transmigration
Had beene decreed by all the windie nation.
and euerie Autume, since a thing moste rare,
The falling leaues, resemble Mirrha's haire.

To barke her yuorie skin polisht congeald,
each blew rig'd current into melting sap,
Her nailes to bolssome faire, & what reueal'd
with accents sad, the babe yet in her lap.
Her fingers twigs, her bright eyes turn'd to gum,
Buried on earth, and her owne selfe the toombe,
her sences gone, yet this sence did she win,
to aye relent, the horror of her sinne.

For euen as from a guilty man, that's pleading for remorse,
teares follow teares, as hoping to preuaile,
So from this tree, (though now a senceleffe course)
flowe pretious teares, as seemes she doth bewaile
In death, with euer liuing teares, the act fore-done
These _Pius_ drops, made densiue by the sunne,
are kept for holy vses, and the Mir,
That so distilles, doth beare the name of her.

The misbegotten babie, swels the tree,
and loathing the defiled wombe sought vent:
Those panges that mothers haue felt shee,
and solemne sighes had issue, as they'd rent,
and spoile the shape, she newly had assum'd,
But wordes within the close bark were inhumbd
Yet wept it out, as it to water would,
Or seem'd it mockt Pactolus waues of golde.

Till chast Lucina, whome the Poets giue,
The mid-wiues power in producing creatures,
by whose change we last die, and first doe liue,
(b