VIII. An EPITAPH on the Marchionefs of Winchester*. HIS rich marble doth inter TH The honor'd wife of Winchester, A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir, = Befides what her virtues fair Added to her noble birth, More than fhe could own from earth. After fo fhort time of breath, To house with darkness, and with death. Her high birth and her graces fweet But with a scarce well-lighted flame; * Jane, daughter of Thomas Lord Viscount Savage of Rock-Savage. And 25 And now with fecond hope fhe goes, Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree: Peace and quiet ever have; After this thy travel fore Here, befides the forrowing That thy noble houfe doth bring, 30 35 40 45 50 Here Whilft thou, bright Saint, high fitst in glory, Next her much like to thee in story, That fair Syrian shepherdess, Who after years of barrenness, The highly-favor'd Joseph bore 65 To him that ferv'd for her before, There with thee, new welcome Saint, N IX. SONG. ON MAY MORNING. 70 OW the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowflip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that doft inspire 5 "Woods Woods and groves are of thy dreffing, Hill and dale doth boast thy bleffing. Thus we falute thee with our early fong, And welcome thee, and wish thee long. X. ON SHAKESPEAR. 1630. 10 HAT needs my Shakespear for his honor'd WHAT bones The labor of an age in piled stones, Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid, Under a ftar-ypointing pyramid ? Dear fon of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou fuch weak witness of thy name? Haft built thyself a live-long monument. For whilst to th' fhame of flow-endevoring art 5 10 15 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. 99 XI. On the UNIVERSITY CARRIER; Who ficken'd in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, by reason of the plague. JERE lies old Hobfon; Death hath broke his girt, H And here, alas, hath laid him in the dirt, Or elfe, the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a flough, and overthrown. 'Twas fuch a fhifter, that if truth were known, Death was half glad when he had got him down; For he had any time this ten years full Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull. And furely death could never have prevail'd, 5 Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd; 10 And thinking now his journey's end was come, 1 In the kind office of a chamberlin ༣ 1 Show'd him his room where he must lodge that night, If any afk for him, it fhall be faid, H XII. Another on the fame. ERE lieth one, who did most truly prove That he could never die while he could move; So hung his destiny, never to rot While he might still jog on and keep his trot, |