So we our selves miraculously destroy.
Here bodies with lesse miracle enjoy
Such priviledges, enabled here to scale
Heaven, when the Trumpets ayre shall them exhale.
15Heare this, and mend thy selfe, and thou mendst me,
By making me being dead, doe good to thee,
And thinke me well compos'd, that I could now
A last-sicke houre to syllables allow.
Omnibus. D, H49: To all. H40, RP31: Another on the same. (i.e. Mrs Boulstred) P: On himselfe. 1635-69: no title, B, S96: in MSS. this complete epitaph follows the epistle (p. 291); but in B they are separated by various poems and in P the epistle is not given
3 tell] tel 1635