Flovvers of epigrammes, out of sundrie the moste singular authours selected, as well auncient as late writers. Pleasant and profitable to the expert readers of quicke capacitie: by Timothe Kendall, late of the Vniuersitie of Oxford: now student of Staple Inne in London

¶An Epitaphe vpon the death of his deare fa∣ther, William Kendall: which died (beyng cut of the stone) and lyes buried at Northaston in Oxford shire.

HEre lies he dead, with stones opprest, whom stones opprest in life: Aye me that he was forste to dye, by dint of deadly knife. Wo worthe the wretche that ript his fleshe: yet wretche why saie I so? Sith needs he would suche torments trie, to ende his paine and woe. The life he lidve, was sure no life, but euen a death in life:

And therefore pluckyng pangs he provde, of cutters caruyng knife. He thought by pluckyng pinchyng pangs, to ende his pinyng paines: He thought to rid the ragged stone, that tide hym so in chaines. But (out alas) he ridde his life, (oh grisly gripyng greef) He was dispatched of his life, and I of my releef. Ah farewell father myne moste deare, in earth we parte with paine: Northaston wants thee, wailes and wepes, wishyng for thee againe. We want and wishe: we waile and weepe: we mourne (alas) and misse: Thou ne doest mourne, nor missest ought, now plaste in heauenly blisse. My losse I doe lament: and yet I ioye for gaine of thine: I loste a father, thou hast gainde perpetuall ioyes deuine.