Classic Poem

Here lyes the knowing head, the honest heart,
Faire blood, and courteous hands, and every part
Of gentle Warre , all with one stone content,
Though each deserv'd a severall monument.
He was (beleive me Reader) for 'tis rare,
Virtuous though young, and learned though an heire.
Not with his Blood, or Natures gifts content
He paid them both their tribute which they lent.
His ancesters in him fixed their pride,
So with him all reviv'd, with him all dyed.
This made death lingring come, asham'd to bee
At once the ruine of a familie.
Learne Reader here, though long thy line hath stood,
Time breeds consumptions in the noblest blood.
Learne (Reader) here to what our Glories come,
Here's no distinction 'twixt the House and Toombe.