For looke how far fellonie may glory in her fetters, so far may we in our funerals wherewith we but feard death. For as some Gentiles, where gold is vernaculous and plentifull, their catiues thogh therewith enchained, yet remaines catiues: so to vs, thogh our graue were of enamelled gold, yet it is but our graue, the monument of our common misery, that by diuine mercy onely may be remedied without farther meanes.

To whom are you referring?

The tender Sire, vvho ſavv her bluſh, and cry, / Aſcrib'd it all to Maiden-modeſty, / And dry'd the falling Drops, and yet more kind, / He ſtroak'd her Cheeks, and holy Kiſſes join'd.

As for Hammersmith itself, that's now a transport hub, but unfortunately cars were invited to the party, so the centre is a roaring roundabout.