ARe fates dread engines, and his Armory
(Muskets and Ropes) but Masque and Mummery?
Sure Cupid (changing armes once more with death)
Turnd hangman to preserve his Martyrs breath.
Nights Queene (who once her selfe did suffer rape)
Pitty'd her Paralell, and let her scape.
Thou Paradox of fate, whom ropes reprieve,
To whom the hangman proves a gentele Shrieve,
Death's after birth: Thou by thy Posthume fate,
And penitence truly art regenerate.
Sterne Bassaw's by the bowstrings slender twine
Want vent for mighty soules: Thy fœminine,
Wrastles with death in a more firme embrace
Of Sinewy cords, yet never quits the place.
Rich. Garrard Gent: Com. of S. Joh. Coll.
FINIS.