For kinder flowers can take no birth,
Or growth, from such unhappy earth.
Weep only o'er my dust, and say, Here lies
To Love and Fate an equal sacrifice.
The Exequies.] A very good stanza, the rhythm rising and swelling admirably. In the final couplet of the first, 1647 reads—
do a victim hide,
That, paid to Beauty, on Love's altar died.
The Silkworm.
This silkworm, to long sleep retir'd,