Such beauty, that from all hearts love must flow, 5

Such majesty, that none durst tell her so;

A wisdom of so large and potent sway,

Rome’s Senate might have wished, her Conclave may:

Which did to earthly thoughts so seldom bow,

Alive she scarce was less in heaven than now; 10

So void of the least pride, to her alone

These radiant excellencies seemed unknown;

Such once there was; but let thy grief appear,

Reader, there is not: Huntingdon lies here.