Epitaph. Upon Doctor Brooke, An
A Brooke whose streame so great, so good,
Was lov'd, was honour'd as a flood:
Whose Bankes the Muses dwelt upon,
More then their owne Helicon;
Here at length, hath gladly found
A quiet passage under ground;
Meane while his loved bankes now dry,
The Muses with their teares supply.
Was lov'd, was honour'd as a flood:
Whose Bankes the Muses dwelt upon,
More then their owne Helicon;
Here at length, hath gladly found
A quiet passage under ground;
Meane while his loved bankes now dry,
The Muses with their teares supply.
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