Gasping short winded Accents, and so dies:
So doth the swiftly turning wheele not stand
80In th'instant we withdraw the moving hand,
But some small time maintaine a faint weake course
By vertue of the first impulsive force:
And so whil'st I cast on thy funerall pile
Thy crowne of Bayes, Oh, let it crack a while,
85And spit disdaine, till the devouring flashes
Suck all the moysture up, then turne to ashes.