Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A38724
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Elegies on the much lamented death of the honourable and worthy patriot, Francis Pierepont, Esq., third son of the Right Honourable Robert, Earl of Kingston, who dyed at Nottingham the 30th day of January, 1657/8
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Pottlintun, O.
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1659
(1659)
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Wing E340; ESTC R14753
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13,123
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36
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ELEGIES On the much Lamented Death of the Honourable and Worthy Patriot FRANCIS PIEREPONT Esq Third Son of the Right Honourable ROBERT EARL OF KINGSTON Who dyed at Nottingham the 30 th day of Ianuary 1657 8. Printed in the Year 1659. TO THE HONOURABLE THE LADY Alisamon Pierepont MADAM WHen Debtors all have brought their hasty Crop You well may wonder at my tedious stop I 'm angry at my self and think to pay But straight an inward whisper bids me stay 'T is conscience tels me that I owe too much Great Debts are slow and mine I 'm sure is such This Tortoise pace is properly my own Who in this kind can shew no currant coyn Nature lent me not one propitious Muse And since I had the Schools farewel I use With Poets at no time to hold commerce 'T is indignation now that dictates Verse What may seem sharp let then imputed be To that unruly Passion not to me What 's dull and flat you may call truly mine That is the mark which proves it genuine If ought be thought beyond the Moon know I A Star for subject have that 's pierc'd the skie Then take them Madam read weigh and excuse If others snarle and censure say but thus The Author tempts his Stars beyond their light To offer up a Duty in my sight Who knows his obligations and must say All falls farre short of what He ought to pay O. P. MEMORIAE VIRI ILLUSTRIS FRANCISCI PIEREPONT Nobilitate doctrinâ pietate suavitate-morum fortunâ florenti O Nulli proavis nobilitate secunde Sed placida cunctis humilitate minor I sursum magno dextram conjunge Magistro Quo major nullus humiliorque fuit Qui potuit miro summus licet incremento Humilitate suum nobilitare decus Te Domini mites animos moresque sequutum Haud dubie Domini gloria dia beat Summo virtutis ejus admiratori apposuit Ludovicus Molinaeus Historiarum Professor Vpon the sensible losse of the Honourable FRANCIS PIEREPONT Esq who departed hence Jan. 30th 1657. BLUsh Blush remorsless Parcae Was not your Names Antiphrasis confirm'd enough till Fames Sad Trumpet tels the World a Potentate A Pillar of the Church a Prop of State Is wholly sunk Forc'd by what fatal Must Cut you at once the thread of Great Good Just This speaks your envy to Mankind for we Could draw by Him Virtues Epitome List worst of the three Daughters of the Night I must proclaim thy everlasting spight Th' hast rob'd me of a Noble Learned Friend With whom no precious hour I e're could spend But some encrease of Knowledge in me wrought Some favour heap'd or else some Virtue taught For would I what was vain and idle fly 'T was then enough to keep him company Was Good my thirst His Soul did it display By a most gentle and familiar way And in His noble body thus inshrin'd Nobility it self hath far out-shin'd He suck'd no Sophismes from the Schools to raise Sins Dark-Lanthorn our purblind Reason's praise That Ignis fatuus which 'twixt Good and Bad Curs'd Mortals in a mist hath alwaies led Above the Soul's essential Faculty That bright first-breath'd Lamp of Innocency But did eclipse the Badge of humane fall With Science purely Intellectuall Which own'd Gods Type and in His Cask of Clay Enjoy'd the Virgin Light of its first day His private Alms he alwaies strove to smother One hand in them was stranger to its Brother His publick Deed 's but a Record to show What Governours of Hospitals should doe Improve the Patrimony of the Poor Not pocket up their Rents but give them more He taught not bound His Offspring Charity Who then 's her self when in full Liberty Would Rich men then in Pierepoint's footsteps tread The poor need not to ask or cloths or bread He could Astraea's Sword directly weild Knew whom to punish with it whom to shield The Ballance He 'twixt all could evenly poize To charm their discord and their jarring noise He lov'd the ancient Scripture-Hierarchy The Ruling-Elder with 's Presbytery But when high Northern blasts by th' root had torn Those ever-virid Yews and almost born The tottring Temple down He help'd to shroud Their naked Members under Jonah's Gourd And i' th' spight of Criticks He 'd rather bear A Soloecisme in Church Lay-Presbyter Then see it Monster-like without a Head But now He 's Dead that Pious man is Dead Dead did I say Oh false Opinion Pure Gold 's not subject to corruption The skilful Artist to delude the eye Can by a mixture of crude Mercury Turn it to dust and with as easie sleight By Vulcan's help cast it again more bright But though he sweat puff blow and try his all He finds that body Homogeneal Call then the Sons of Art they 'l thus the Process read In proper tearms This now innobled Lead A vessel 's of Almighty-Chymistry The Body separate from its Soul which we Saw lock'd with Hermes seal from mortals eyes Great Piereponts body now Fermenting lyes In Natures prouder womb where 't shortly must By Saturns cold be fix'd in noble dust Whence when the fierie Tryal it hath run 'T will rise more glorious than the morning Sun To re-invest its widdow-soul from ground Call'd up by 'th last shril Trumpets joyful sound And joyntly Both new link'd inseparably Present their claim to Immortality Then style 't not Death which the first step must be To lift us up to our Eternity Here 's comfort Madam be not á la mort Your longer stay casts you not one day short Your Husband should goe first but in this wheel You and we all tread closely on his heel O. Pottlintun An Elegy expostulating Deaths arrest upon my Honourable dear and noble Freind Mr. Francis Pierrepoint Esq AVant grim Serjeant with thy grisly Face Be gone I le break thy bald pate and thy glasse If th' entrest here this is no common ground Thou Rogue thou treadst on no it will be found The Lord of th' soyle thou seekst for is of Fame Above Arrest knowst any of the name Of Pierrepont Debtors T is a name we know For Wealth for Learning and for Wisdome too The Nation boasts of besides high discent Which others have which all the other want Such as have seen the Vatican at Rome * Lord Marquesse * Mr William Pierepont * Mr. Fran. Pierepont Say Pierrepont lives the Vatican at Holme States who fetcht Wisdom from the men of Greece Confesse one Pierrepont then the seven more wise Whilst all of all sorts do attest this truth Second to none is third Brother to both And dar'st thou arrest him He can retain The greatest schollar and the wisest man Advocates of his own house to plead his cause Besides his Innoâ—ence and our just Lawes Thus for my Freind expostulating I Maugre my threats was made me this reply Pale death with equal foot attends the doore Of Pallaces and Cottages ful poore By statute Law there 's an appointed day When
rich as poore Dame Natures debt must pay The great the good the just the wise the high Princes and Pierreponts too they all must dye And must he die then rather is he dead Was there no Proxy to appear in 's stead Might not one poor Debt be forgiven him Who many a poor man's Debt had oft forgiven 'T is payd 't is payd Then Reader passe not by But pay a Tear if not an Elegy As tributary to his noble Hearse Whose name wil stand in Prose as well as Verse And needs no Poet to proclaime him good In words rather exprest then understood Whilst â—ho him understood knew him a man Meek not Morose though Presbyterian Had only such been trusted with that key Good men had all been for Presbytery Though vast in parts and Patrimony rather H' appear'd a giving then a gifted Brother And yet his gifts were high enough to reach As far to judge as any man 's to preach Grace crown'd his gifts glory now crownes his graces Heav'n with supplies fill up such vacant places Sic cecinit Lachrymans Sic Lachrymans precatur G. Pigot Vpon the much lamented Death of the Honourable FRANCIS PIEREPONT Esq EAch Debtor has been call'd his dues to bring Of just acknowledgements an Offering To make upon the sad and mournful Urne Of this Beloved Saint shal others mourne Much lesse concern'd then I I silent stand Whom you when living might of right command To whom I ought of Love and service more Then if my All was sould would pay that score Dame Natures Debt or yours I know not whether The greater but like to be clear'd together So great a summe requires a longer day I now the Interest alone can pay But why so long ere that comes in my Muse Oh! blame me not heark to my just Excuse My Plumes have been so steept in teares that I Could not til now get wing neither so high As others can I soare I 've only breath To crawle upon the ground and chide with Death Who hath bereft me and not me alone But ev'n the Church and Common-Wealth of one Whose parts and virtues will eclipsed be If my dul pen set forth his Elegy I 'le only hint what in a larger story More fully may be spoke of Piereponts glory Nature being lavish to 'm with art did strive Which longest should his name preserve alive Heralds he left his birth to tell did scorne That as below a person Heaven borne Heroick Acts not words spoke his Discent His Freindship real was 'bove Complement His noble spirit deck't with humility His humble soule inrich't with Majesty His Justice gave to every one his own His Wisdome sav'd his His Charity was sown In each fit soile His Piety was free From common errors or State policy Pious and politick rare in our State These in a Statesman should concenterate Hold Muse the Field is large should'st over run Thy self canst thou add Lustre to the Sun Darken it thou dost its time now to retire Sigh out thy remnant dayes observe admire What cannot by the loftiest stile b'exprest Labour to imitate le ts not disturb the rest Of this deare soule with thy Caelestiall Graces â—le repone te in Heavens imbraces Collonell White Vpon the much lamented Death of the Honourable Francis Pierrepont Esq VVEll may I be asham'd and blush that in This Worthies praises I have silent bin When others trumpets sound so loud that I Might though unfit to speake an Eccho be But greif that 's great vents slowly first it will Utter it self in briny teares which still The Pen may steep in that strives to expresse What 't is to want so great a happinesse As I and more enjoy'd whilst the Sun shone clear Now alas set in this our Hemisphere Pardon then Reader when 't is so great worth If my dull Muse fall short in setting forth In such a publick cause it is I see Hard to speak full as hard to silent be O! how my greif renewes while each fresh thought Of him cloath'd with a sigh heart-deep breakes out In broken Language that the World may tell My losse but only they that feel 't can spell My meaning out but lest the torrent should Too soon drye up I cannot but behold How the Wound bleeds afresh in 's consorts eyes Whilst shee think 's on her dearest's Obsequies As the widow'd Dove deprived of her Mate To greive is all her joy to mourne her State Her teares her daily bread are as if he Who in one moment ceased for to be Was by th' all wise creator who in vaine Does nought each minute giv'n and tak'n againe Her losse so great as he that doth it view May think what Poets faine might here prove true With Greif one turned quite into a stone Nature would yeild indeed 't is grace alone Makes this a fiction yet the sword cuts deep And when God strikes then it is grace to weep Excuse her passion then because her head Her joy part of her selfe her Husband 's dead Death only could that knot unty where Love Inform'd two bodies with one soule to prove There was not Freindship here but unity And he though dead lives in her memory And still will live His name 's not writ i' th sand A nobler Tombe inshrines him whose command Ore each rebellious passion shew'd how far He did excell what common Mortalls are Though high yet humble high in parts not pride His power great his pittie nere deny'd The poore mans suit who ere had cause to say He came complaining that went sad away Learn'd in what was worth his study and that His cheif delight was to communicate Thus virtue that in 's greener yeares did lye Sown in his heart grew to maturity Till's Harvest came when he full ripe from us Was take'n and layd amongst what 's precious In Gods peculiar store house where he stayes Waiting to see those long expected dayes When what death parts shall reunite and then No night that joy will overcloud againe George Fisher On the lamented Death of the truly Honourable Francis Pierepont Esq TO thy dear memory blest Soul I pay This humble tribute though in such a way As rather doth proclaim my want of skill That n'ere set foot on high Pernassus hill Than thy great merit Greif knowes not the art To break that silence which might break an heart My deep Resentments of thy noble Love And faithfull freindship I so oft did prove With all those Heavenly virtues did inspire Thy generous breast with more than common fire I faine would utter and thereby engage The cold attempts of a declining age Which may admire thy Candor but dispaire To match that copy thou hast drawn so faire Whom not our words as thy own worth commends Dear to thy God thy Country and thy Freinds But why do I in vaine strive to rehearse Thy praises in the ligatures of Verse I 'le leave that work most worthy to be done By those in words that not