EPITAPH ON MR. TURNER OF ST. MARY-HALL by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643)

I ROSE, and coming down to dine,
I Turner met, a learn'd divine;
'Twas the first time that I was bless'd
With sight of him, and had possess'd
His company not three hours space,
But Oxford call'd him from that place.
Our friendship was begun, for Arts,
Or love of them, can marry hearts.
But see whereon we trust: eight days
From thence, a friend of mine thus says:
Turner is dead; amaz'd, thought I,
Could so much health so quickly die?
And have I lost my hopes to be
Endear'd to so much industry?
O man! behold thy strength, and know
Like our first sight and parting, so
Are all our lives, which I must say
Was but a dinner, and away.

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