Epitaph To W. S

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth Youth's fortune, and his fame unknown Earth frown'd not on his birth Melancholy mark'd him for his own Large was his beauty and his soul sincere Wisdom did heav'n largely send Giving us in a mis'ry tear Wisdom from Heav'n, poetry his friend No farther week his merits to disclose Drawing out our tears into his abode Makin' us trembling with his words Resting in the blossom of his father Havin' imparted me, And great wisdom largely he sends upon me!