In tunefull Elegies; there's not language knowne
Fit for thy mention, but 'twas first thy owne;
5The Epitaphs thou writst, have so bereft
Our tongue of wit, there is not phansie left
Enough to weepe thee; what henceforth we see
Of Art or Nature, must result from thee.
There may perchance some busie gathering friend
10Steale from thy owne workes, and that, varied, lend,
Which thou bestow'st on others, to thy Hearse,
And so thou shalt live still in thine owne verse;