That ever thought the travail long:
But eyes and ears and every thought,
Were with his sweet perfections caught."
"O GOD! that such a worthy man,
In whom so rare deserts did reign;
Desired thus, must leave us then:
And we to wish for him in vain.
O could the stars that bred that wit,
In force no longer fixèd sit."
"Then being filled with learned dew,