The first anniuersarie An anatomie of the vvorld. Wherein, by occasion of the vntimely death of Mistris Elizabeth Drury, the frailtie and the decay of this whole world is represented.

THE HARBINGER to the Progres.

TWo soules moue here, and mine (a third) must moue Paces of admiration, and of loue; Thy soule (Deare Virgin) whose this tribute is, Mou'd from this mortall sphere to liuely blisse; And yet moues still, and still aspires to see The worlds last day, thy glories full degree:

Like as those starres which thou ore-lookest farre, Are in their place, and yet still moued are No soule (whiles with the lugage of this clay It clogged is) can follow thee halfe way; Or see thy flight; which doth our thoughts outgoe So fast, that now the lightning moues but slow: But now thou art as high in hea∣uen flowne As heau'ns from vs; what soule besides thine owne Can tell thy ioyes, or say he can re∣relate

Thy glorious Iournals in that bles∣sed state? I enuie thee (Rich soule) I enuy thee, Although I cannot yet thy glory see: And thou (Great spirit) which her's follow'd hast So fast, as none can follow thine so fast; So farre as none can follow thine so farre, (And if this flesh did not the pas∣sage barre Had'st raught her) let me wonder at thy flight Which long agone had'st lost the vnlgar sight

And now mak'st proud the better eyes, that thay Can see thee less'ned in thine aery way; So while thou mak'st her soules by progresse knowne Thou mak'st a noble progresse of thine owne. From this worlds carcasse hauing mounted hie To that pure life of Immorta∣litie; Since thine aspiring thoughts them∣selues so raise That more may not beseeme a crea∣tures praise, Yet still thou vow'st her more; and euery yeare

Mak'st a new progresse, while thou wandrest here; Still vpwards mount; and let thy makers praise Honor thy Laura, and adorne thy laies. And since thy Muse her head in heauen shrouds Oh let her neuer stoope below the clouds: And if those glorious sainted soules may know Or what we doe, or what we sing below, Those acts, those songs shall still content them best Which praise those awfull powers that make them blest.