His body, though not very large or tall,
     Was sprightly, active, yea and strong withal. 
     His constitution was, if right I’ve guess’d,
     Blood mixt with choler, said to be the best. 
     In’s gesture, converse, speech, discourse, attire,
     He practis’d that which wise men still admire,
     Commend, and recommend.  What’s that? you’ll say. 
     ’Tis this:  he ever choos’d the middle way
     ‘Twixt both th’ extremes.  Amost in ev’ry thing
     He did the like, ’tis worth our noticing: 
     Sparing, yet not a niggard; liberal,
     And yet not lavish or a prodigal,
     As knowing when to spend and when to spare;
     And that’s a lesson which not many are
     Acquainted with.  He bashful was, yet daring
     When he saw cause, and yet therein not sparing;
     Familiar, yet not common, for he knew
     To condescend, and keep his distance too. 
     He us’d, and that most commonly, to go
     On foot; I wish that he had still done so. 
     Th’ affairs of court were unto him well known;
     And yet meanwhile he slighted not his own. 
     He knew full well how to behave at court,
     And yet but seldom did thereto resort;
     But lov’d the country life, choos’d to inure
     Himself to past’rage and agriculture;
     Proving, improving, ditching, trenching, draining,
     Viewing, reviewing, and by those means gaining;
     Planting, transplanting, levelling, erecting
     Walls, chambers, houses, terraces; projecting
     Now this, now that device, this draught, that measure,
     That might advance his profit with his pleasure. 
     Quick in his bargains, honest in commerce,
     Just in his dealings, being much adverse
     From quirks of law, still ready to refer
     His cause t’ an honest country arbiter. 
     He was acquainted with cosmography,
     Arithmetic, and modern history;
     With architecture and such arts as these,
     Which I may call specifick sciences
     Fit for a gentleman; and surely he
     That knows them not, at least in some degree,
     May brook the title, but he wants the thing,
     Is but a shadow scarce worth noticing. 
     He learned the French, be’t spoken to his praise,
     In very little more than fourty days.

Then comes the full burst of woe, in which, instead of saying much himself, the poet informs us what the ancients would have said on such an occasion: 

     A heathen poet, at the news, no doubt,
     Would have exclaimed, and furiously cry’d out
     Against the fates, the destinies and starrs,
     What! this the effect of planetarie warrs! 
     We might have seen him rage and rave, yea worse,
     ’Tis very like we might have heard him curse
     The year, the month, the day, the hour, the place,
     The company, the wager, and the race;