A Dirge - :Of The Wand & The Moon:

Me seemes I see the high and stately mountaines

Transform themselves to lowe dejected vallies:

Me seemes I heare in these ill changed forrests

The nightingales doo learne of owles their musique:

Me seemes I feele the comfort of the morning

Turnde to the mortall serene of an evening

Me seemes I see a filthie clowdie evening

As soon as sunne begins to clime the mountaines:

Me seemes I feele a noysome sent, the morning

When I doo smell the flowers of these vallies:

Me seemes i heare, when I doo heare sweet musique

The dreadfull cries of murdered men in forrests