Epitaph on Elizabeth, L. H.

Wouldst thou hear what man can say
    In a little? Reader, stay.
Underneath this stone doth lie
    As much beauty as could die;
Which in life did harbor give
    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.