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| THRICE 1 happy women! that obtain’d such grace | |
| From Him whose worth the world could not containe, | |
| Immediately to turne about his face, | |
| As not remembering his great griefe and paine, | |
| To comfort you, whose teares powr’d forth apace | 5 |
| On Flora’s bankes, like showers of April’s raine: | |
| Your cries inforced mercie, grace, and loue, | |
| From Him whom greatest princes would not moue. | |
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| To speake one word, nor once to lift his eyes, | |
| Vnto proud Pilate—no, nor Herod, king, | 10 |
| By all the questions that they would deuise, | |
| Could make him answere to no manner of thing: | |
| Yet these poore women, by their piteous cries, | |
| Did mooue their Lord, their louer, and their king, | |
| To take compassion, turne about and speake | 15 |
| To them whose hearts were ready now to breake. | |
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| Most blessed daughters of Jerusalem, | |
| Who found such favour in your Sauior’s sight, | |
| To turne his face when you did pitie him; | |
| Youre tearefull eyes beheld his eies more bright; | 20 |
| Your faith and loue vnto such grace did clime | |
| To haue reflection from this heau’nly light: | |
| Your eagles’ eyes did gaze against this sunne, | |
| Your hearts did think, he dead, the world were done. | |
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| When spightful men with torments did oppresse | 25 |
| Th’ afflicted body of this innocent doue, | |
| Poore women, seeing how much they did transgresse, | |
| By teares, by sighes, by cries intreat,—nay, proue | |
| What may be done among the thickest presse; | |
| They labour still these tyrants’ hearts to moue, | 30 |
| In pitie and compassion to forbeare | |
| Their whipping, spurning, tearing of his haire. | |
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| But all in vaine—their malice hath no end; | |
| Their hearts more hard than flint, or marble stone: | |
| Now, to his griefe, his greatnesse they attend, | 35 |
| Where he, God knowes, had rather be alone; | |
| They are his guard, yet seeke all meanes to offend: | |
| Well may he grieve, well may he sigh and groane; | |
| Vnder the burden of a heauy crosse | |
| He faintly goes to make their gaine his losse. | 40 |
