Vxor Felix. Loquitur post funera virtus.
From
my sad cradle to my sable chest,
Poor Pilgrim I did finde few months of rest.
In Flanders, Holland, Zeland, England, all,
To parents, troubles; and to mee did fall.
These made mee pious, patient, modest, wise:
And, though well born, to shun the Gallants guise.
But now I rest: my soule where rest is found;
My body heer in a small piece of ground.
And from my Hill, that Hill I have ascended,
From whence for mee my Saviour once descended.
Live yee to learn, that dy you must,
And after com to iudgement iust.
Maritus mœstissimus.
Thy rest gives mee a restless life,
Because thou wert a matchless wife:
But yet I rest in hope to see
That day of Christ, and then see Thee.
Margarita a Iewell.
I, like a iewell tost by Sea and Land,
Am bought by him who wears mee on his hand.
Margarita, Margareta.
One night, two dreams made two propheticals:
Thine, of thy Coffin; mine, of thy Fune rals.
If women all were like to Thee,
Wee men for wives should happy bee.
R.H.
Margarita surrept' est, mons exaruit.
FINIS.
