Classic Poem

1.

Fond Greif at Good menns Graues, a Riddle found
T'is Water spilt vpon no ground.
To wish green Fruict: w th store
Of showrs to clapp deep-sayling barkes
And at th'arriualls, rore.
His madd mistake, or more,
That pitch'd; & watch'd, but wept to catch his larks.

2.

Some Maro me a suddaine Neptune make
My Mace, a conquring penn to shake,
And lay both ioynd, & waue;
Away from this his Geniall Bedd
W ch you misscall a Graue
For Saincts deceas'd may haue
Repose in death, but never cann be dead.

3.

Take of theise Blacks & Scutcheons from his Herse
W th raggs of Elegyack verse.
Goe mourne, & paint, & whyne;
Ore those are Sepulcherd aliue
The Foole, the Churle, the Swyne.
To his tryumphant shrine
While we this Sainct with acclamations driue.

4.

For whympring Sotts, bring me a Legion bright
Or angell Mayds all clothd in white
And all their beam's vnbound.
Carnation wasts reflect their heads
With rosie chappletts cround.
In danse & Dyrge around
W th chaynes of Pearle & Rubyes, for their beads.

5.

Bend me a skie then of Illustrious youth
Stuck full of everie virtue's truth
To ring that virgin trayne.
In one, Ouation, all their voyces mixt
Their feet one measure straine
Till heaven resound againe
And prints on earth for evermore be fixt.

6.

Herald blaze Madams wastcoat: trick the blood
That Spowts out great, but dropps no good;
Pure A R gent: Sables fine
That make the brauest Coats to vs belonge
Not Caes ar were Diuine
But matchd in Virgills Lyne
Who wou'd not sell his Armes for such a Song?