To Sir Henry Merry deceased

When I have number'd all the golden graines
By Tagus washt, or Iemmes in hidden veines
Of the deepe Earth, then may I here recite
Thy faire and rich endowments, worthy Knight:
Which since we want, we weepe, as if we would
Supply with Pearles what dearer was than Gold:
But (teares exhausted) sadly sigh alone,
And frowne at mirth, now noble Merry's gone.