brinish

Next day did many widowes come, Their husbands to bewayle; They washed their wounds in brinish teares, But all wold not prevayle.

'This said, his wat'ry eyes he did dismount, Whose sights till then were levelled on my face; Each cheek a river running from a fount With brinish current downward flowed apace.

This Plot of death when sadly she had laid, And wiped the brinish pearl from her bright eyes, With untuned tongue she hoarsely calls her maid, Whose swift obedience to her mistress hies; For fleet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies.