The Complete Poems of Richard Barnfield/Poems/An Epitaph vpon the Death of his Aunt, Mistresse Elizabeth Skrymsher
AN EPITAPH VPON THE DEATH OF HIS AUNT, MISTRESSE ELIZABETH SKRYMSHER.
LOE here beholde the certaine Ende, of euery liuing wight:
No Creature is secure from Death, for Death will haue his Right.
He spareth none: both rich and poore, both young and olde must die;
So fraile is flesh, so short is Life, so sure Mortalitie.
When first the Bodye liues to Life, the soule first dies to sinne:
And they that loose this earthly Life, a heauenly Life shall winne,
If they liue well: as well she liv'd, that lyeth Vnder heere;
Whose Vertuous Life to all the Worlde, most plainly did appeere.
Good to the poore, friend to the rich, and foe to no Degree:
A President of modest Life, and peerelesse Chastitie.
Who louing more, Who more belov'd, of euerie honest mynde?
Who more to Hospitalitie, and Clemencie inclinde
Then she? that being buried here, lyes wrapt in Earth below;
From whence wee came, to whom wee must, and bee as shee is now,
A Clodd of Clay: though her pure soule in endlesse Blisse doeth rest;
loving all Ioy, the Place of Peace, preparod for the blest:
Where holy Angells sit and sing, before the King of Kings;
Not mynding worldly Vanities, but onely heavenly Things.
Vnto which Ioy, Vnto which Blisse, Vnto which Place of Pleasure,
God graunt that wee may come at last, t'inioy that heauenly Treasure.
Which to obtaine, to liue as shee hath done let us endeuor;
That we may liue with Christ himselfe (above) that liues for euer.