Nay, read & spare not, Passenger,
my sence is now past feeling,
who to my Grave a wound did beare
within, past Physicks healing.

But doe not, if thou be to wed,
to read my story tarry;
least thou envy me this cold Bed,
rather then live to marry.

For a long strife with a leud Wife
(worst of all Ills beside)
made me grow weary of my life,
so I fell sicke & dyde. Rob: