The poems (1869) | ||
204
VPON A FUNERALLE.
To their long home the greatest Princes goeIn hearses drest with faire escutcheons round.
The blazonnes of an antient race, renown'd
For deeds of valour; and in costly show
The traine moves forward in procession slowe
Towards some hallow'd Fane; no common ground,
But the archd uavlt and tombe with scvlpture crownd
Receive the corse, with honours laid belowe.
Alas! whate'er their wealthe, their witt, their worthe,
Such is the end of all the sonnes of Earthe.
The poems (1869) | ||