A thousand Worthies had unworthily
Been raked up in Ashes and in Clay,
Vnknowne and bury'd in Obscurity,
If Malice had not fil'd their Rust away.
But, lo; their lasting prayses now are spread,
And rais'd, by Adverse-Chance, to such a height,
That they most glorious are, now they are dead;
And live in Injuries, and Deaths, despight.
For, by Afflictions, man refined growes,
And, (as the Gold prepared in the Fire)