EPICEDIA: OR, FUNERAL VERSES Upon the much Lamented Death of that most Loyal Subject, and Religious Gentleman, Mr. HMPHREY COLLES of Cates-lade, Who departed this Life Nou. 15▪ and was Solemnly interred Nou. 18. Anno Salutis. 1661. & Aetatis suae. 77.  

DEATH is no wonder, since 'tis unto all  
A Common Lot, to Rich, Poor, great, and small.  
This cruel Sergeant, At the Prince's gate  
Knocks; And the Ploughman's door, at the same rate.  
No sooner Lacheseis, our thread of life,  
Hath spun; but Atropos, with her keen knife  
Cuts it asunder: All before the Flood,  
(Those long-lived Fathers) Death at length withstood:  
Adam, Seth, Enosh, who lived here below  
So many years, were subject to death's blow.  
Methusalah, who lived the longest of all  
The Patriarches, packed hence when she did call.  
No wonder then (since yield to fate we must)!  
This hearty, cheerful Cole's now turned to dust.  
No wonder then, Death with her fiery flashes  
Hath burnt this lively coal, quite unto ashes.  
But is he dead? Sure nay, no good man dies;  
But like the Day's Sun, only sets to rise.  
The cloud of Death's already overblown,  
To Heaven (her Native Soil) his Soul is flown.  
Where his Redeemer lives, with him to Reign,  
Millions of Angels waiting on the Train.  
Sure worse thoughts of him we cannot have,  
Who used all good means, his soul to save.  
God's Ordinance and House he did frequent,  
To hear the Word, with cheerfulness he went.  
Herd Sermons with great reverence, and then,  
He by his practice, prcached them o'er again.  
His private, good Devotions, rather were  
Those to the eye, then only to the ear.  
His prayers took their vigour, and their strength,  
Not from their loudness, nor yet from their length.  
His inoffencive conscience, was a thing  
Which troubled neither Church, nor yet his King.  
He was an honest Protestant at home,  
In despite of fanatics, and of Rome.  
To his Religion, his resolved mind  
Still did adhere; near changed with the wind.  
Peace which he loved in his-life, did lend▪  
Her helping hand, to bring him to his end.  
When Age and Death, both came to end all strife,  
These gently did untwine his thread of life.  
Now let's commit him to his Rest▪ Sleep on  
Thou Loyal Subject, till the night be gone.  
Sleep on, until th' Eternal morrow dawn;  
Then those Celestial Curtains will be drawn.  
Then shalt thou be partaker of that light,  
Whose Glorious day shall never set in night.   
Ita deslet obitum suum. M. H. Amicus sui observantissimus.   
Omnes una manet nox, & calcanda semel via lethi. Hor. l. 1. Carm. Ode. 28. Pallida mors, aequo pulsat pede, pauperum tabernas. Regumque turres, Hor. Ode. 4. 

Vt jam triste mori est, sic dulce resurgere: Christus  
In vitâ, nobis fit, quoque morte, lucrum.  
In terris labor est; requies sed suavis in urnâ.  
In summo venient, gaudia summa; die.