To His Book [If Hap It Must, That I Must See Thee Lie]
by
If hap it must, that I must see thee lie
Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly;
With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,
I’ll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;
And having wash’d thee, close thee in a chest
With spice; that done, I’ll leave thee to thy rest.