To Endimion Porter.

WOuld thou wert dead! so strictly dead to me,
That nor my sight, nor my vex'd memorie
Could reach thee more: so dead, that but to name
Thou wert, might give the sawcie▪ lie to Fame;
That the bold Sonnes of Honour, and the milde
Race of Lovers (both thy disciples stil'd)
Might aske; who could the first example bee
To all their good? yet none should mention thee▪
Knocking at my Brest, when this hou'r is come;
I hope, I once shall finde my heart at home.
Say, thou art dead; yet whisper't but to me;
For should thy so well-spent mortalitie,
End to the world, and that sad end be knowne;
I might (perhaps) still live, but live alone:
The better world would follow thee, and all
That I should gaine, by that large Funerall,
Would be, the wanton vanit…e to boast,
What they enjoy, was from my plenty lost.