Up, then, Melpomene, the mournful'st Muse of nine
Such cause of mourning never had'st afore
Up, grisly ghosts, and up my rueful rime
Matter of mirth now shalt thou have no more
For dead she is, that mirth thee made of yore:
Dido, my dear, alas, is dead;
Dead and lieth wrap'd in lead
O, heavy hearse
Let streaming tears be poured out in store
O, careful verse
Up then, Melpomene was written by George Kirbye.