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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A39182 An Elegy upon that great minister of state Anthony Earl of Shaftesbury 1683 (1683) Wing E458B; ESTC R27319 1,844 2

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AN ELEGY Upon that Great Minister of State ANTHONY Earl of Shaftsbury I. ARE all Quills dead or be they buried deep In black mouth'd Lethe's bottomless abyss How come our Poets that were wont to keep Sorrows sad Vigils strictly so remiss Are they grown dull or drowzy Can soft sleep Charm them at such a needful time as this Or has dumb grief found out a newer fashion To character her thoughts and cloath her passion Than eye-bedawbing Tears and printed lamentation II. GUsh forth all eyes and when your floods be spent Borrow new tydes from passions Oratory Take streams on trust untill your flood-gates vent The Common stock and weep an Allegory If hearts turn stones make very stones relent And help to bear the burden of thy story O here 's a Subject that shall force and tear The Portals of an Adamantine ear Yet sooner break a heart perchance than broach a tear III. HOw great was he for 's richly furnishd brest Was a fair Temple and His heart a shrine Garded with tropps of Angels where did rest A glory nine times greater than the Nine His Soul was fill'd with Heav'n and full possest With heav'nly Raptures He was much Divine He was a harmony where ev'ry part Was sung by graces so compos'd by art It rouz'd up ev'ry ear it ravisht ev'ry heart IV. KNowledge that often puffs the spungy brain Gave Him the treasure of a lowly brest Wisdom that once abus'd turns trap and train Built in His gallant heart the Turtles nest Riches that cloath the brow with proud disdain Made Him appear far lesser than the least He had true knowledge wisdom wealth in which H' enjoy'd His God His glory was His pitch True knowledge made Him Wise true Wisdom made Him Rich. V. NObles let not your emulous stomacks swell To hear perfection crown'd There may accrue Some honour to your names If you excel Joves Bird hath fruitful wings which daily mue More sprightly Quils than ours dye you as well Heav'n grant ye may they 'll do no less for you Till then expect it not know half your glory Shines at your death but dead they will restore ye From your forgotten dust and write your perfect story VI. MAY this rare patern dwell before your eye When time shall please t' unclasp your fleshly Cage His holy death will teach ye all to dye And scorn the malice of infernal Rage He dyed at his full time and know ye why He was a Rule propos'd to Youth to Age He was a Light that glorified yours days Obscur'd alone by our inferior praise The virtue of the world was but His Periphrase VII FAme blow thy Trump and see if Envy durst Presume to snarle or vent her frothy gall Fame blow aloud Let Envy snarle her worst Do let her fret and fume and foam and fall Stark mad Blow louder till the Bedlam burst And stink and taint her news-corrupting Hall Blow fame and spare not If some base-bred tongue That wants a name to loose should chance to wrong Thy honour'd Trumpets breath then make thy blast more strong VIII O But this Light is out what wakeful eye E'r mark'd the progress of the Queen of Light Rob'd with full glory in her Austrian sky Untill at length in her young noon of night A swarth tempestuous Cloud doth rise and rise And hides her lustre from our darkned sight Even so too early death that has no ears Open to suits in our scarce noon of years Dash'd out our light and left the tempest in our tears IX REtract that word false Quill O let mine eyes Redeem that language with a thousand tears Our Shaftsbury's not dead How passion lies How ill that sound does relish in these ears Can he be dead whose conqu'ring Soul desies The bands of death and worse than death the fears No no he sits enthron'd and smiles to see Our childish Passions he triumphs while we In sorrow blaze his death that 's death and sorrow free X. WOrds call in words O from this fruitful Theam As from a Spring flouds issue forth and meet And swell into a Sea Stream joins with stream Our weary numbers have regain'd new feet And bring in stuff more fit to load a Ream Than to be lodg'd within a slender sheet The thirsty Soul whose trembling fingers touch The swelling Bowl may soon transgress and such That ne'r can speak enough may eas'ly speak too much XI YET one word more and then my Quill and I Will wooe Apollo and beg leave to play Youth learn to live and Noble-men to dye This heav'n-fled Saint hath scor'd ye both the way Your Rule 's above but your Example 's by Heav'n sets not Earth such Copies every day His virtues be your guide They lie before ye So shall ye add more honour to her story And gain your selves a Crown and gain his Crown more Glory THE EPITAPH JUstice True Splendour Hospitality Frindship kind Love being resolv'd to dye In these lewd Times have chosen here to have With Pious Just Great Shaftsbury their Grave Them cherish'd he so much so much did grace That they on Earth would choose none other Place 〈…〉 at the Black-Raven in ●●e P●●l●●y ●683