I Will not blame those grieved Hearts that shed _Becoming-teares_, for their departed Friends; Nor those who sigh out _Passions_ for the _Dead_; Since, on _Good-natures_, this Disease attends. When _Sorrow_ is conceiv’d, it must have Vent (In Sighes or Moysture) or the Heart will breake; And, much they aggravate our Discontent, Who, out of _Season_, _Reason_ seeme to speake. Yet, since our Frailty may require we should _Remembrances_ admit to keepe us from Excesse in _Griefe_: this _Emblem_ here behold, And take such _Hope_ as may our _Teares_ become. The _Wheat_ although a while it lyes in Earth, (And seemeth lost) consumes not quite away; But, from that _Wombe_ receives another _Birth_, And, with _Additions_, riseth from the Clay. Much more shall _Man_ revive, whose worth is more: For, _Death_, who from our Drosse will us refine, Vnto that other _Life_, becomes the _Doore_, Where, we in _Immortalitie_ shall shine. When once our _Glasse_ is runne, we presently Give up our _Soules_ to _Death_; So _Death_ must give Our _Bodies_ backe againe, that we, thereby, The _Light_ of _Life eternall_, may receive. The Venom’d _Sting_ of _Death_ is tooke away; And, now, the _Grave_, that was a Place of _Feare_, Is made a _Bed of Rest_, wherein we may Lye downe in _Hope_, and bide in safety, there. When we are _Borne_, to _Death_-ward straight we runne; And by our _Death_, our _Life_ is new-begnnne. _When =Vice= and =Vertue= Youth shall wooe, Tis hard to say, which way 'twill goe._ [Illustration: QVO ME VERTĀ NESCIO ILLVSTR. XXII. _Book. 1._]