On the Death of My Dear Brother Mr. H. S. Drown'd, The Tomb

Why weeps this Marble? can his frigid power
Thicken the ambient air into a shower?
Ah no; these teares have sure an other cause
Then the necessity of Natures Lawes;
These teares their spring have from within; there lies
The spoile of Nature, crime of destinies:

How well this silent sadnesse doth become
His awfull shade; the horrour of the Tomb
Strikes palenesse through my soule; yet I must on
And pay the rights of my devotion.
Pardon you guardian Angells (who attend
And keep his bones safe from the stygian fiend)
That I disturb your watch with untun'd layes
I come to mourne and not to sing, his praise.
A Sun that sat in flouds, but, oh sad hast,
Ere the Meridian of his age was past,
A purer day the East did nere disclose;
Then in his clear affections orient rose
Tempestuous passion did in him appear
But Physick, as the lightnings purge the aire:
Martiall his temper was, yet overcame
Others by smiles, himselfe by force did tame;
Here lies the best of man: nature with thee
Lost her perfection and integritie.