Book I, Satire 5

ANother, whose more heauie hearted Saint
Delights in nought but notes of rufull plaint,
Vrgeth his melting Muse with sollem teares
Rime of some drerie fates of lucklesse peeres.
Then brings he vp some branded whining Ghost,
To till how old misfortunes had him tost.
Then must he ban the guiltlesse fates aboue,
Or fortune fraile, or vnrewarded loue.
And when he hath parbrak'd his grieued minde,
He sends him downe where earst he did him find,
Without one penie to pay Charons hire,
That waiteth for the wandring ghosts retire.