 | Poems |  |
93
Epitaph on the Lady S. Wife to Sir W.S.
The harmony of colours, features, grace,Resulting Ayres (the magicke of a face)
Of musicall sweet tunes, all which combind,
To crown one Soveraigne beauty, lies confind
To this darke Vault. Shee was a Cabinet
Where all the choysest stones of price were set;
Whose native colours, and purest lustre lent
Her eye, cheek, lip, a dazling ornament:
Whose rare and hidden vertues, did expresse
Her inward beauties, and minds fairer dresse;
The constant Diamond, the wise Chrysolite,
The devout Saphyre, Emrauld apt to write
Records of Memory, cheerefull Agat, grave
And serious Onyx, Tophaze, that doth save
The braines calme temper, witty Amathist.
This precious Quartie, or what else the list
On Aarons Ephod planted had, shee wore:
One only Pearle was wanting to her store;
Which in her Saviours booke she found exprest,
To purchase that, she sold death all the rest.
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