On Argalus and Parthenia.
Epitaph.
His being was in her alone,
And he not being she was none.
They joy’d one joy, one grief they grieved,
One love they lov’d, one life they liv’d.
The hand was one, one was the sword,
That did his death her death afford.
As all the rest, so now the stone
That tombs the two is justly one.
And he not being she was none.
They joy’d one joy, one grief they grieved,
One love they lov’d, one life they liv’d.
The hand was one, one was the sword,
That did his death her death afford.
As all the rest, so now the stone
That tombs the two is justly one.