Sleepest there inshrin'd in thy admired Parts,
And hast no Heraldry but thy Deserts.
Yet let not them their prouder Marbles boast,
For they rest with less Honour though more Cost.
Go search the World, and with your Mattock wound,
The groaning Bosom of the patient Ground:
Dig from the hidden Veins of her dark Womb,
All that is rare and precious for a Tomb.
Yet when much Treasure, and more time is spent,
You must grant his the Nobler Monument;