"If ever I more riches did desire"
di Abraham Cowley (1618-1667)

Here let my life with as much silence slide
As Time that measures it does glide;
Nor let the breath of infamy or fame
From town to town echo about my name;
Nor let my homely death embroider'd be
With scutcheon or with elegy:
An old plebeian let me die;
Alas! all then are such as well as I.