And here resteth the Bones of Sir Edwin Rich, Knight, Son of Sir Edwin Rich, who died the 16 Day of November, 1675.

Our Lyef is like an Hower Glasse, and our Riches are like Sand in it, which runnes with us but the time of our Continuance here, and then must be turn'd up by an other.

:So speake to God as if Men heard your talke,
:Soe lyve with Men as if God sawe your walke;
:When thou art young, to lyve well thou must strive;
:When thou art old, to dye well then contryve.
:Thetford, gave Breath, and Norwich, Breeding,
:Trinity-Collidg, in Cambridg, Learning;
:Lincolns-Inn, did teach me Law and Equity,
:Reports I have Ade, in the Courte of Chancery ;
:And though I cannot skill in Rymes, yet know it,
:In my Lyfe I was my own deathles Poett.
:For he who leaves his work to others truste,
:May be deceived when he lyes in the Duste.
:And nowe I have traveld through all these wayes,
:Here I conclude the Storye of my Dayes.
:And here my Rymes I ende, then ask no more,
:Here lyes Sir Edwin Rich, who loveed the Poore.