The cruelty of Rora

WHilst sighing forth his Wrongs,
In sweet, though dolefull Songs,
Alexis sought to charme his Roras Eares,
The Hils were heard to moane,
To sigh each Spring appeared,
Trees, hardest Trees through Rine distill'd their Teares,
And soft grew every Stone:
But Teares, nor Sighs, nor Songs could Rora move,
For she rejoyced at his plaint and love.