Epitaph on Elizabeth LH

Wouldst thou hear what man can

In a little?

Reader, stay.

Underneath this stone doth

As much beauty as could die;

Which in life did harbor

To more virtue than doth live.

If at all she had a fault,

Leave it buried in this vault.

One name was Elizabeth,

Th' other let it sleep with death;

Fitter, where it died to tell,

Than that it lived at all.

Farewell.