Classic Poem

His Epitaph.

A S ke you, why so many a teare
Bursts forth: I'lle tell you in your eare:
Compell me not to speake aloud,
Death would then be too too proud,
Eyes that cannot vye a teare,
Forbeare to aske, you may not heare;
Gentle hearts that overflow,
Have onely priviledge to know:
In these sacred Ashes, then,
Know (Reader) that a man of men
Lyes covered: Fame and lasting glory
Make deare mention of his story:
Nature when she gave him birth,
Op'd her treasure to the earth:
Put forth the modell of true merit
Quickned with a higher spirit:
Rare was his life; His latest breath
Saw, and scorn'd, and conquer'd death:
Thanklesse Reader, never more
Vrge a why, when teares runne o'r:
When you saw so high a Tyde,
You might have knowne 'twas Ailmer dy'd.