 | Poems By John Hall |  |
100
An Epitaph.
[When that my daies are spent, (nor do]
When that my daies are spent, (nor do
I know
Whether the Sun will er'e immise
Light to mine eyes)
Me thinkes a pious teare needs must
Offer some violence to my dust.
I know
Whether the Sun will er'e immise
Light to mine eyes)
Me thinkes a pious teare needs must
Offer some violence to my dust.
Dust, ravel'd in the Aire will fly
Up high,
Mingled with water 'twill retire
Into the mire.
Why should my ashes not be free
When nature gave them liberty?
Up high,
Mingled with water 'twill retire
Into the mire.
Why should my ashes not be free
When nature gave them liberty?
But when I go, I must them leave
In grave.
No Flouds can make my marble so
As moist to grow.
Then spare your labour, since your dew
Cannot from ashes, Flowers renew.
In grave.
No Flouds can make my marble so
As moist to grow.
Then spare your labour, since your dew
Cannot from ashes, Flowers renew.
| Poems By John Hall | |