On John Ellis.
Life is certain, Death is sure,
Sin’s the wound, and Christ’s the cure.
On Admiral Blake,
Who died in August, 1657.
Here lies a man made Spain and Holland shake,
Made France to tremble, and the Turks to quake;
Thus he tam’d men, but if a lady stood
In ’s sight, it rais’d a palsy in his blood;
Cupid’s antagonist, who on his life
Had fortune as familiar as a wife.
A stiff, hard, iron soldier, for he
It seems had more of Mars than Mercury;
At sea he thunder’d, calm’d each rising wave,
And now he’s dead sent thundering to his grave.
In Parliament, a Burgess Cole was placed,
In Westminster the like for many Years,
But now with Saints above his Soul is graced,
And lives a Burgess with Heav’n’s Royal Peers.
HAMPSTEAD.
Underneath where as you see,
There lies the body of Simon Tree.
ST. BENNET, PAUL’S WHARF.
Here lies one More, and no More than he,
One More, and no More! how can that be?
Why one More and no More may well lie here alone,
But here lies one More, and that’s More than one.