Must raised be, before it can ascend
To say, how much, your Fame, doth you commend.
Yet, if these Lines, (or, that they Vsher in)
For me, some Passage may, anew, begin
To your Esteeme; I, may so happily,
Illustrate forth, the Golden-History
Of those Affections, which within your Brest,
Have to the world remained unexprest.
That, future times, to your applause may reade,
The matchlesse Paterne of a Widdowed-bed,