An Epitaph vpon that hopefull young Gentleman, the Lord Wriothesley

Here lies a Souldier, who in youth desir'd
His valiant Fathers noble steps to tread,
And swiftly from his friends and Countrey fled,
While to the height of glory he aspir'd.

The cruell Fates with bitter enuy fir'd,
To see warres prudence in so young a head,
Sent from their dusky caues to strike him dead,
A strong disease in peacefull Robes attir'd.

This Murd'rer kills him with a silent dart,
And hauing drawne it bloody from the Sonne,
Throwes it againe into the Fathers heart,
And to his Lady boasts what he hath done.

What helpe can men against pale Death prouide.
When twice within few dayes Southampton dide?