Epitaphe Sir W R By Himselfe -
Even such is Time who takes in trust
our youth, our Joyes and all we have,
Then payes us bake with age and Dust,
Who in a darke and silent Grave
When wee have wandred all our wayes
Shuts up the storie of our Dayes.
But from Times rage, the Grave and Dust
My God shall raise me up I trust.
our youth, our Joyes and all we have,
Then payes us bake with age and Dust,
Who in a darke and silent Grave
When wee have wandred all our wayes
Shuts up the storie of our Dayes.
But from Times rage, the Grave and Dust
My God shall raise me up I trust.
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