Wouldst thou hear what man can say
In a little? Reader, stay.
Underneath this stone doth lie
As much beauty as could die;
Which in life did harbor give
To more virtue than doth live.
If at all she had a fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.
One name was Elizabeth,
Th’ other let it sleep with death;
Fitter, where it died to tell,
Than that it lived at all. Farewell.
(Ben Jonson)
More Poetry from Ben Jonson:
Ben Jonson Poems based on Topics: Man, Life, Death & Dying, Name- A Pindaric Ode (Ben Jonson Poems)
- XIII: Epistle: To Katherine, Lady Aubigny (Ben Jonson Poems)
- Ode (Ben Jonson Poems)
- III: To Sir Robert Wroth (Ben Jonson Poems)
- To Penshurst (Ben Jonson Poems)
- To the Immortal Memory and Friendship of That Noble Pair, Sir Lucius Cary and Sir H. Morison (Ben Jonson Poems)