By dear Saint Iphis, and the rest
Of all those other saints now blest,
Me, me, forsaken, here admit
Among your myrtles to be writ:
That my poor name may have the glory
To live remembered in your story.
Phyllis, the Thracian princess who hanged herself for love of Demophoon.
Iphis, a Cyprian youth who hanged himself for love of Anaxaretes.
450. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN.
Here a solemn fast we keep,
While all beauty lies asleep
Hush'd be all things—no noise here—
But the toning of a tear:
Or a sigh of such as bring
Cowslips for her covering.
451. TO THE RIGHT GRACIOUS PRINCE, LODOWICK, DUKE OF RICHMOND AND LENNOX.
Of all those three brave brothers fall'n i' th' war
(Not without glory), noble sir, you are,
Despite of all concussions, left the stem
To shoot forth generations like to them.
Which may be done, if, sir, you can beget
Men in their substance, not in counterfeit,
Such essences as those three brothers; known
Eternal by their own production.
Of whom, from fame's white trumpet, this I'll tell,
