On Elizabeth L. H

    In a little？ Reader stay.

    Underneath this stone doth lie

    As much Beauty as could die：

    Which in life did harbour give

    To more Virtue than doth live.

    If at all she had a fault

    Leave it buried in this vault.

    One name was Elizabeth

    The other let it sleep with death：

    Fitter where it died to tell

    Than that it lived at all. Farewell.