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Being glad to feed on beggars' food
And calling to remembrance then
'Which make him rend his milk white locks
And treffes from his head,
And all with blood beftain his cheeks,
To hills and woods, and wat'ry founts,
Till hills and woods, and fenfeless things,
Did feem to figh and groan.
Ev'n thus poffefs'd with difcontents,
To find fome gentler chance.
Moft virtuous Dame! which when she heard
Of this her father's grief,
As duty bound, fhe quickly fent
Him comfort and relief.
And by a train of noble peers,
She gave in charge he fhould be brought
Whose royal King, whofe noble mind,
So freely gave confent,
To mufter up his knights at arms,
And fo to England came with speed
And drive his daughters from their thrones
By his Cordelia dear:
Where the, true hearted noble Queen,
Was in the battle flain;
Yet he, good King, in his old days,
But when he heard Cordelia's death,
Of her dear father, in whose cause
The lords and nobles when they faw
And being dead their crowns they left
Thus have you feen the fall of pride
END OF THE SEVENTH VOLUME.