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Section 696
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Arui.
With fayrest Flowers
Whil'st Sommer lasts, and I liue heere, Fidele,
Ile sweeten thy sad graue: thou shalt not lacke
The Flower that's like thy face. Pale‑Primrose, nor
The azur'd Hare‑Bell, like thy Veines: no, nor
The leafe of Eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out‑sweetned not thy breath: the Raddocke would
With Charitable bill (Oh bill sore shaming
Those rich‑left‑heyres, that let their Fathers lye
Without a Monument) bring thee all this,
Yea, and furr'd Mosse besides. When Flowres are none
To winter‑ground thy Coarse⸺