To the Memory of the Learned and Religious, Ferdinando Pulton, Esquire

As at a ioyfull Marriage, or the birth
Of some long wished child; or when the earth
Yeelds plenteous fruit, and makes the Ploughman sing:
Such is the sound, and subiect of my string:
Ripe age, full vertue need no fun'rall Song,
Here mournefull tunes would Grace, & Nature wrong
Vuhy should vaine sorrow follow him with teares,
Vuho shakes off burdens of declining yeeres?
Vuhose thread exceeds the vsuall bounds of life,
And feeles no stroke of any fatall knife?
The Destinies enioyne their wheeles to run,
Vntill the length of his whole course be spun.
No enuious cloud obscures his struggling light,
Vuhich sets contented at the point of night:
Yet this large time no greater profit brings,
Then eu'ry little moment whence it springs,
Vnlesse imploy'd in workes deseruing praise,
Most weare out many yeeres, and liue few dayes.
Time flowes from instants, and of these each one
Should be esteem'd, as if it were alone
The shortest space, which we so lightly prize
Vuhen it is comming, and before our eyes:
Let it but slide into th' eternall Maine,
No Realmes, no worlds can purchase it againe:
Remembrance onely makes the footsteps last,
Vuhen winged Time, which fixt the prints, is past.
This he well-knowing, all occasions tries,
T' enrich his owne, and others learned eyes.
This noble end, not hope of gaine did draw
His minde to trauaile in the knotty Law:
That was to him by serious labour made
A Science, which to many is a Trade;
Vuho purchase lands, build houses by their tongue,
And study right, that they may practise wrong.
His bookes were his rich purchases: his fees,
That praise which Fame to painefull works decrees:
His mem'ry hath a surer ground then theirs,
Vuho trust in stately Tombes, or wealthy Heires.