Classic Poem

Great little Ladies, greatly might you blame
My little care of doing as I ought,
Should I neglect to set your noble Name,
First of those Principalls whose hands I taught
Yet, the more high your Birth and Places are,
The more ye ought to mind the blast of Breath:
As Philips Page did shew his masters care,
When most he flourisht, most to thinke on death!
Looke on this Picture; so perceiue ye shall,
We fall like Leaues, in Autumne from the Tree,
When Heau'n puffes at Excesse in generall;
But from all woes excesse I wish ye may
(Throgh Heau'n on Earth) to heau'n the easiest way!