human
No wealth, no praise, no bright renowne, no skill, No force, no fame, no prince's love, no toyle, Though forraine lands by travel search you will, No faithful service of thy country soile, Can life prolong one minute of an houre; But Death at length will execute his power. For Sir John Leigh, to sundry countries knowne, A worthy knight, well of his prince esteemed, By seeing much to great experience growne, Though safe on seas, though sure on land he seemed, Yet here he lyes, too soone by Death opprest; His fame yet lives, his soule in Heaven hath rest.