The Epitaph.

WEep Reader, weep, for if we see
Thy Fountains dry, no man will be
Perswaded to relent for thee.

In this monumental clay
Lies pious dust, till it obey
The Summons of the latter day.

You that ransack earth and Skies
For all worth which good men prize,
Look no further, Here it lies.

Let your truer tears attend it,
When all studious men have pen'd it,
This mans Name will comprehend it;

But (to sum up all in brief)
He whose eyes are void of grief,
Hath a heart without belief.

HE whose soul doth not desire
To weep before he do retire,
Would laugh, were all the world on fire.