Here for the nonce
Came Thomas Fonce
In St. Fileses church to lye.
None welsh before,
None Welshman more
Till Shon Clerk dye.
Ile tole the bell,
Ile ring his knell,
He dyed well,
He's saved from Hell :
And so farewell
Tom Fonce.
142. On a young man.
Surpriz'd by grief and sicknesse here I lye,
Stopt in my middle age, and soon made dead,
Yet doe not grudge at God, if soon thou dye,
But know he trebles favours on thy head.
Who for thy morning work equals thy pay,
With those that have endur'd the heat o'th'day.
143. On the two Littletons that were drowned at Oxford.
Here lye we (Reader, canst thou not admire ?)
Who both at once by water dy'd and fire.
For whilst our bodyes perish'd in the deep,
Our soules in love burnt, so we fell asleep;
Let this be then our Epitaph: Here lyes
Two, yet but one, one for the other dyes.
That death should thus from hence our Butler catch, Into my mind it cannot quickly sink;
Sure death came thirsty to the buttry-hatch,
When he (that busi'd was) deny'd him drink.
Tut! 'twas not so, 'tis like he gave him liquor,
And death made drunk, him made away the quicker;
Yet let not others grieve too much in mind
(The Butler's gone) the keys are left behind.
To God, his Country, and the poor he had,
A zealous soul, free heart, and lib'rall mind.
His wife, his children, and his kindred sad,
Lack of his love, his care and kindnesse find :
Yet are their sorrows asswag'd with the thought
He hath attain'd the happinesse he sought.
At length by works of wondrous fate,
Here lyes the Porter of Winchester-gate :
If gone to heav'n, as much I feare:
He can be but a Porter there :
He fear'd not hell so much for's sin,
As for th❜great rapping and oft coming in.
147. Vpon one who dyed in Prison.
Reader, I liv'd, enquire no more,
Lest a spy enter in at doore;
Such are the times, a dead man dare
Not trust nor credit common aire.
But dye and lye Entombed here,
By me, I'l whisper in thine ear
Such things as onely dust to dust
(And without witnesse) may entrust.
148. On Waddam Colledge Butler.
Man's life is like a new tunn'd Cask they say,
The foremost draught, is oft times cast away;
Such are our younger years, the following still
Are more and more inclining unto ill;
Such is our manhood, untill age at length,
Doth sowre its sweetnes, and doth stop its strength: Then death prescribing to each thing its bounds, Takes what is left, and turns it all to grounds.
Here lies a horse, who dyed but
To make his Master go on foot.
A miracle should it be so :
The dead to make the lame to go;
Yet fate would have it, that the same
Should make him goe, that made him lame.
150. On an old Man a Residenciary.
Tread, Sirs, as lightly as you can
Upon the grave of this old man.
Twice forty (bating but one yeare,
And thrice three weeks) he lived here.
Whom gentle fate translated hence
To a more happy Residence.
Yet, Reader let me tell thee this,
(Which from his Ghost a promise is)
If here ye will some few tears shed,
He'l never haunt ye now he's dead.
To these, whom Death again did wed,
This Grave's the second Marriage-Bed.
For though the hand of Fate could force,
"Twixt soule and body a Divorce;
It could not sever Man and wife,
Because they both liv'd but one life;
Peace, good Reader, doe not weep,
Peace, the Lovers are asleep :
They (sweet Turtles) folded lye,
In the last knot that love could tye.
Let them sleep, let them sleep on,
Till this stormy night be gone.
And th'eternall morrow dawne,
Then the Curtaines will be drawne,
And they waken with that light,
Whose day shall never sleep in night.
Here biting Aretyne lyes buried,
With gall more bitter, never man was fed.
The living nor the dead to carp he spar'd,
Nor yet for any King or Cæsar car'd:
Onely on God to raile he had forgot,
His answer was, indeed I know him not,
On William Coale an Alehouse-keeper, at Coaton near
Cambridge.
Doth William Coale lye here? henceforth be stale,
Be strong and laugh on us thou Coaton ale:
Living indeed, he with his violent hand
Never left grasping thee, while he could stand.
But death at last, hath with his fiery flashes
Burnt up the Coale, and turn'd it into ashes,
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