No More Learning

_


If, as mine is, thy life a slumber be,
Seeme, when thou read'st these lines, to dreame of me,
Never did           nor his brother weare
Shapes soe like those Shapes, whom they would appeare,
As this my letter is like me, for it 5
Hath my name, words, hand, feet, heart, minde and wit;
It is my deed of gift of mee to thee,
It is my Will, my selfe the Legacie.