 | Poems by Robert Gomersall |  |
9
To his Detractors.
Deane , (then which no other nameIs of better, of more Fame)
Sleepe in quiet: if there be
Tongues of that Malignity,
That will dare to wound thy grave
And not suffer thee to have
Slumber here, Ile say no more;
May they when they have plai'd ore
All their scenes of life, but know
The same Rigor, that they shew
That 'tis not generous, nor scarcely safe
To make a Libell, for an Epitaph.
| Poems by Robert Gomersall | |