A tongue, that served in foreign realms his king, Whose courteous talk to virtue did inflame Each noble heart, a worthy guide to bring Our English youth by travail unto fame. An eye, whose judgement none affect could blind A heart, where dread was never so imprest, To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance. A valiant corpse, where force and beauty met, Lived, and ran the race that nature set; Of manhood's shape, where she the mould did lose., But to the heavens that simple soul is fled, Witness of faith, that never shall be dead; Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost, The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost. (Surrey.) ON SIR THOMAS WYATT. O! dead, he lives, that whilome lived here, Though he be dead, yet quick he doth appear (Unknown.) LIFE AND DEATH. HE longer life, the more offence; The less defence, the lesser gain; The shorter life, less count I find; Come, gentle Death, the ebb of care ; Wherefore, come Death, and let me die. |