On the strange Death of Eschylus. a Poet

Eschylus foretold by a diviner, he
By th' downfal of a house should ruind be:
Fondly that day to 'void this Destinie
Did keep the field, not yet resolv'd to die:
There, as he stood, a Faulcon in his beak
Having a Tortoys which he meant to break,
Suppos'd his bald pate, as he barehead stood,
To be a stone, on which to get his food
He let it fal: the Tortoys did remain
By this chance safe, and Eschylus was slain.
Oh the unalterd Persian Laws of fate
Whose fixt decrees none can anticipate!
Bald Poets hence prove mortal, whilst that crown
(Whose radiant temples, laureat with renown
And deckt with tresses like Apollo's brows)
Is safe from Envies crack, or Deaths fel blows.