Made of sphere-metal, never to decay
Until his revolution was at stay.
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
’Gainst old truth) motion number’d out his time,
And, like an engine moved with wheel and weight,
His principles being ceased, he ended straight.
Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath.
Nor were it contradiction to affirm,
Too long vacation hastened on his term.