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ARion, when
through tempests cruel wracke,
He forth was thrown
into the greedy seas:
through the sweet musick which
his harp did make
allu'rd a Dolphin him from death
to ease.
But my rude musick, which was wont to
please
some dainty eares, cannot with any skill,
the dreadfull tempest of her wrath appease,
nor moue
the Dolphin from her stubborne will,
But in her
pride she dooth perseuer still,
all carelesse how my
life for her decayse:
yet with one word she can it
saue or spill,
to spill were pitty, but to saue were
prayse.
Chose rather to be praysd for dooing good,
then to be blam'd for spilling guiltlesse blood.
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