The Lamentation of Dauid, ouer Saul, and Ionathan his sonne (2. Sam. 1)

Thy beauty, Israel, is gone;
slaine in the Places high is he:
The Mighty now are ouerthrowne.
Oh, thus how commeth it to be!

Let not this newes their streets throughout,
In Gath, or Askalon, be told
For feare Philistia's daughters flout:
Lest vaunt th'vncircumcized should.

On you, hereafter, let no dewe
You Mountaines of Gilboa, fall.
Let there be neither showers on you,
Nor fields that breed an offring shall.
For, there with shame, away was throwne
The Target of the strong (alas)
The shield of Saul, eu'n as of one
That neu'r with oyle anoynted was.

Nor from their blood that slaughter'd lay,
Nor from the fart of strong-men slaine;
Came Ionathan his bow away,
Nor drew forth Saul his sword in vaine.
In life time, they were louely faire;
In death they vndiuided are.
More swift then Eagles of the ayre,
And stronger they, then Lyons were.

Weepe Isrel's daughters, weepe for Saul,
Who you with skarlet hath arayd;
Who clothed you with Pleasures all,
And on your garments gold hath layd.
How comes it, he that mighty was,
The foyle in battell doth sustaine!
Thou Ionathan, oh thou (alas)
Upon thy Places-high wert slaine.

And, much distressed is my heart,
My brother Ionathan, for thee,
My very deare-delight thou wert,
And wondrous was thy loue to me.
So wondrous, it surpassed farre
The loue of women (eu'ry way.)
Oh, how the Mighty fallen are!
How warlike Instruments, decay!