CXXI
EXEQUY ON HIS WIFE.

Accept, thou shrine of my dead saint,

Instead of dirges this complaint;

And for sweet flowers to crown thy hearse,

Receive a strew of weeping verse

From thy grieved friend, whom thou might’st see 5

Quite melted into tears for thee.

Dear loss! since thy untimely fate,

My task hath been to meditate

On thee, on thee: thou art the book,