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Section 676
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Gray.
Till then, faire hope must hinder liues decay:
And I the rather waine me from dispaire
For loue of Edwards Off‑spring in my wombe:
This is it that makes me bridle passion,
And beare with Mildnesse my misfortunes crosse:
I, I, for this I draw in many a teare,
And stop the rising of blood‑sucking sighes,
Least with my sighes or teares, I blast or drowne
King Edwards Fruite, true heyre to th'English Crowne.