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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A39186 An Elegy upon the death of the reverend, pious and learned Dr. Sandcroft, late Ld. Arch-Bishop of Canterbury, and Metropolitan of all England 1699 (1699) Wing E462A; ESTC R174934 762 1

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MEMENTO MORI AN ELEGY Upon the DEATH of the Reverend Pious and Learned Dr. SANDCROFT Late L d. Arch-Bishop of Canterbury And Metropolitan of all ENGLAND HERE Reverend Sandcroft's sleeping Reliques lye Of that Great Man All he had left to Die Alas the Prelate long long Dead before The Metropolitan was seen no more In Dust the Crosier and the Mitre lay An Autumn Blast had swept those Leaves away And only the poor Naked Trunk left stand For the keen Winter's last Destroying Hand Death took him in a Melancholy Hour Oh Zeal how unaccountable's thy Pow'r What tho' when James our Judah's Scepter bore 'T was all a Moses Snaky Rod before He saw it in the Gracious William's Hand Converted to an Aaron's Blooming Wand Yet with a Truth too firm though ill deserv'd Too faithfully the unkind Master serv'd Too fast to his last broken Fortunes hung Still the Kiss'd Scorpion he his Darling sung What though retir'd from Lambeth's Princely Tow'rs An humble Cell held his Recluser Hours Though of the Pageantry of Pomp bereft He had still those fair unravish'd Glories left His sweet Contentment was it self alone A Coronet and Solituae a Throne Mount then Blest Saint to thy Immortal Seat And claim thy fairer Starry Coronet For if Humility so highly priz'd Neglected Worlds and Popular State Despis'd If Patience and a Soul above the Loss Of the Stript Plumes of Fortune's shining Dross Are Scaling Steps to the Eternal Throne The Jacob's Ladder sure was all thy own The EPITAPH Retir'd from Powers unweildy Toil Beneath this Alabaster Pile This Pile of Alablaster nay Beneath this homely Turf thou 'lt say Lyes Mighty Sandcroft's humble Clay Here th' Abdicating Prelate Sleeps And his small Six-foot Court he keeps But wondring Reader would'st thou know How that great Head should lie so Low Instead of Stately Marble Chests In this Course Vulgar Vault it rests He saw Great William's Rising Morn And all the Beams his Brows Adorn And gazing at the Imperial Pride His too weak Opticks narrow ty'd Made him the Dazling Glory shun And to this poor poor Covert run Not Eagle-Ey'd enough to face so Bright a Sun London Printed by William Downing And Licensed according to Order