Heaven hither, or constellate any thing, So as the influence of those starres may bee Imprison'd in an Hearbe, or Charme, or Tree, And doe by touch, all which those stars could doe? 395 The art is lost, and correspondence too. For heaven gives little, and the earth takes lesse, And man least knowes their trade and purposes. If this commerce twixt heaven and earth were not Embarr'd, and all this traffique quite forgot, 400 She, for whose losse we have lamented thus, Would worke more fully, and pow'rfully on us: Since herbes, and roots, by dying lose not all, But they, yea Ashes too, are medicinall, Death could not quench her vertue so, but that 405 It would be (if not follow'd) wondred at: And all the world would be one dying Swan, To sing her funerall praise, and vanish than. But as some Serpents poyson hurteth not, Except it be from the live Serpent shot, 410 So doth her vertue need her here, to fit That unto us; shee working more then it. But shee, in whom to such maturity Vertue was growne, past growth, that it must die; She, from whose influence all Impressions came, 415 But, by Receivers impotencies, lame, Who, though she could not transubstantiate All states to gold, yet guilded every state, So that some Princes have some temperance; Some Counsellers some purpose to advance 420 The common profit; and some people have Some stay, no more then Kings should give, to crave; Some women have some taciturnity, Some nunneries some graines of chastitie. She that did thus much, and much more could doe, 425 But that our age was Iron, and rustie too, Shee, shee is dead; shee's dead; when thou knowst this, Thou knowst how drie a Cinder this world is. And learn'st thus much by our Anatomy, That 'tis in vaine to dew, or mollifie 430 It with thy teares, or sweat, or blood: nothing Is worth our travaile, griefe, or perishing, But those rich joyes, which did possesse her heart, Of which she's now partaker, and a part. [Sidenote: _Conclusion._] But as in cutting up a man that's dead, 435 The body will not last out, to have read On every part, and therefore men direct Their speech to parts, that are of most effect; So the worlds carcasse would not last, if I Were punctuall in this Anatomy; 440 Nor smels it well to hearers, if one tell Them their disease, who faine would think they're well. Here therefore be the end: And, blessed maid, Of whom is meant what ever hath been said, Or shall be spoken well by any tongue, 445 Whose name refines course lines, and makes prose song, Accept this tribute, and his first yeares rent, Who till his darke short tapers end be spent,