Is Beaumont dead? or slept he all this while,
To teach the world the want of his smooth style?
If he be dead, that part of him divine,
By transmigration of his soul, is thine:
High is thy fancy, yet thy strain so sweet,
Death would be lov'd in such a winding-sheet.
This Wedding needs no offering, and thy worth
Is above flattery, to set thee forth;
From whose rich Muse thus W EDDED , we shall see
Many fair children born to Poesy.