University of Virginia Library

When age should make thee capable to tell
Thy wonder how thy infancy had fell
From honors pyramids, a jewel which
Did once the splendor of his Crown inrich
About thy neck he hangs, then breathing on
Thy tender lips a parting kiss, we're gone,
Gone from our last delight to finde some place
Dark as our clouded stars, there to embrace
Unenvi'd poverty, in the cold bed
Of sad despair, till on his reverend head,
Once center to a crown, grief makes him weare
A silver frost by frequent storms of care
Forc'd on that royal mount, whose verdure fades
Ere time, by youths antagonist invades.