Epitaph, D. Arth: Ingram, E. A. Eborac. P. M. S.
Englished, and Engraven, Thus.
Rest ye in peace, Great Souls! who purchas'd have
What You deserv'd in Life, now, by the Grave!
How great a Good's Mortality!
'Tis an uncertainty,
Whether more sad or happy thing it be,
For that he could, or that he ought to dye:
Sir Arthur Ingram Knight
By Title, Noble Blood, & fortune's height,
A Name of Weight:
But,
For the rare endowments of the mind,
And piety, which amongst few hath shin'd
As every other one he did out-do,
He, then himself, was also greater too.
Say, amongst thousands, one where shalt thou see
In High Things, Low
In Plenty Sober too
And Constant in Inconstancy?
This Best of men was He
Who Fortune Goods 'mongst virtues, first, did sacred make to be:
Through (and beyond) all, was his honesty.
The Churches Son and Father, so
A Pupil, and a Patron too.
With his supplies he did supply her want
When militant
So Catholiquely Beneficial,
Whether men would or no, so liberal,
As he'd make all men his, and himself all.
Of Love, to's choice Wise, not to be exprest
Whereof she bears (though here the marble rest)
A monument more lasting in her breast.
All things Immortal in this Heroe were
But meer Mortality:—
Why Weepest thou here?
That which thou seest within this vaulted Room
The Temple is of vertue not the Tomb.
