Here lyes her body, but her soule refin’d
Above th’empyreall, hath imperial place,
In bliss so boundlesse, as no words embrace,
Nor art can feigne, nor mortal heart can finde.
Her fame remaines a monument of honour,
Built by her virtue, gilt with purest gold,
With lilly flowers and roses strewed upon her.
Her epitaph.
Urania thus enrol’d:
Milde childe, chaste mayden, and religious wife: