Classic Poem

Upon my Fidelias Toomb

Pass not bye but read and see
Wher all the Graces three
Comprised are in an Epittome.

For what of Love affection claimd in her
Was my Peculier
Nor did she that on any else conferr.

The charitable part on all
From Her free hand did fall
Soe generously Generall

Ore th'Good soe far as Emulation led
Her Ambitious Envy, spread
The Ill she through compassion pittied.

Soe Low a pitch Her Thoughts suffisd that they
To Heavn knew noe other way
But to beleev and pray.

And for Her Faith to Husband, Frend
Nay all the world Let Fame commend
Crownd was Her Life by th'end.

Ther was noe wave of Fortune heer
Could toss her in soe great Fear
(Though'er Sexes weaknes) but through hope She'd stear.

Faith was Her mast
And Love the Sayles
Assurance th'Anker that she cast
Soe Thornes, whips, nails,
Like winds convaighd Her, to her port at last.