From Sir Philip Sidney’s Old Arcadia (1580):

Since that to death is gone the shepheard hie,
Who most the silly shepheard’s pipe did pryse,
Your dolefull tunes sweete Muses now applie.
And you o trees (if any life there lies

In trees) now through your porous barkes receave
The straunge resounde of these my causefull cries:
And let my breath upon our braunches cleave,
My breath distinguishe’d into words of woe,
That so I may signes of my sorrowe leave.
But if among yourselve some one tree growe,
That aptest is to figure miserie,
Let it embassage beare your grieves to showe.
The weeping Myrrhe I thinke will not denie
Her help to this, thus justest cause of plaint.
Your dolefull tunes sweet Muses now applie.