Song.

Set by Mr. Curtes .

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.