Her Prudence, Wit and Memory being told,
Death seiz'd her streight; mistook her to be old.
A sheet of Bacon 's catch'd at more, we know,
Than all sad Fox , long Holinshead or Stow .
She was but Eight; yet judgment had such store,
Upon a just Compute she dy'd Threescore.
Ladies, take heed how to be wise you try,
For 'tis resolv'd, who will be wise must dye.