Classic Poem

When I past Paules , and travell'd in that walke
Where all our Britaine-Sinners sweare and talke;
Ould Harry-ruffians , Bankerupts, Southsayers,
And youth, whose cousenage is as ould as theirs;
And then beheld the Body of my Lord,
Trodd under foote by vice that he abhorr'd:
It wounded mee the Landlord of all times
Should let long liues, and leases to their crimes,
And to his springing Honour did afford
Scarce soe much time as to the Prophetts gourd.
Yet since swift flightes of vertue haue apt ends,
Like breath of Angells, which a blessing sends
And vanisheth withall; whilst fouler deedes
Expect a teadious harvest for bad seedes:
I blame not Fame and Nature if they gaue
Where they could giue noe more, their last, a Grave.
And wisely doe thy greived Freinds forbeare
Bubbles , and Alablaster-Boyes to reare
Ore thy religious dust: for men did know
Thy life, which such Illusions cannot show.
For thou hast trod among those happy Ones,
Who trust not in their Superscriptions,
Their hired Epitaphs, and periur'd stone,
Which oft belyes the Soule when shee is gon;
And durst committ thy body as it lyes
To Tongues of living men, not unborne Eyes.
What profitts thee a sheete of lead? what good
If on thy coarse a marble quarry stood?
Let those that feare their Rising, purchase vaults,
And reare them statues to excuse their faults,
As if, like Birds that peck at painted Grapes,
The Iudge knew not their persons , from their shapes .
Whilst Thou assured, through thy easyer dust,
Shalt rise at first, they would not though they must.
Nor needes the Chancelour boast, whose Pyramis
Aboue the Host and Alter reared is:
For though thy body fill a viler roome,
Thou shalt not change Deedes with him for his Tombe .