Classic Poem

It's not Coeytus , Riuer of sad teares:
Nor ought besides that may sense most torment.
Doth cause the feare of Death, or life indeeres
In Epicures, that sensually are bent:
But tis the relaps into Nullity,
Which of all griefs and Miseries is chiefe
To those that scoffe at immortalitie:
Sith in not being's Beings greatest griefe,
For, what ioy is so great but the conceipt
Of falling to his Infinition
(Of blacke Non-essence) will confound it streight
In those that thinke this life their Portiou?
Sith then their Heau'n on their fraile life depends,
Their Heau'n must melt when they do minde their ends.