To see these lines writ for his epitaph.
It may be that utter nonsense was more in vogue at this time than can be definitely asserted, for such productions would, naturally, not be preserved as were the more important matters.
This anonymous bit of nonsense is said to have been written in 1617, and may be from the pen of the same worthy Bishop.
NONSENSE
Oh, that my lungs could bleat like butter’d Pease;
But bleating of my lungs hath caught the itch,
And are as mangy as the Irish seas
That offer wary windmills to the Rich.
I grant that Rainbowes being lull’d asleep,
Snort like a woodknife in a Lady’s eyes;