Vpon the Earle of Couentryes departure from vs to the Angels

Sweet Babe, whose Birth inspir'd me with a Song,
And call'd my Muse to trace thy dayes along;
Attending riper yeeres, with hope to finde
Such braue endeuours of thy noble Minde,
As might deserue triumphant lines, and make
My Fore-head bold a Lawrell Crowne to take:
How hast thou left vs, and this earthly Stage,
(Not acting many Months) in tender age?
Thou cam'st into this world a little Spie,
Where all things that could please the eare and eye,
Were set before thee, but thou found'st them toyes,
And flew'st with scornefull smiles t' eternall ioyes:
No visage of grim Death is sent t' affright
Thy spotlesse soule, nor darknesse blinds thy sight;
But lightsome Angels with their golden Wings
Ore spread thy Cradle, and each spirit brings
Some precious Balme, for heau'nly Physicke meet,
To make the separation soft and sweet.
The sparke infus'd by God departs away,
And bids the earthly weake companion stay
Vuith patience in that nurs'ry of the ground,
Vuhere first the seeds of Adams limbes were found
For time shall come when these diuided friends
Shall ioyne againe, and know no seu'rall ends,
But change this short and momentary kisse,
To strict embraces of Celestiall blisse.