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death_n die_v good_a life_n 16,696 5 4.8534 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
B03230 An elegie on the famous and renowned lady, for eloquence and wit, Madam Mary Carlton, otherwise styled, the German Princess. 1673 (1673) Wing E417; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[20] 871 1

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AN ELEGIE On the Famous and Renowned LADY for Eloquence and Wit Madam MARY CARLTON Otherwise styled The German Princess OH Dire Misfortune 't was a cruel Fate Should make her wit the object of its hate Death surely hath no mercy in his sting To noose a Princess in a Hempen String Had he or manners or a sharpen'd Dart He had e're now surpriz'd her Martial heart And not admitted her in all the throng Of Beauties to ride Conqueress so long But he in policy observ'd her will Spar'd her to send more Grists unto his Mill For she whose Beauty lay within her pate Slew more by Love then Death could slay by hate But yet we see in vain it is to groan The Gallows and the Grave refuseth none Nor let the Reader now exalt his horn None know their Doom so soon as they are born And who is he that dares to have the skill To judge who next shall ride up Holborn-Hill Nor is it much material Fate we know More ways then one unto the Grave can show Some by Beheading some by a Surprize Some by those Darts shot from their Ladies Eyes Nor has the Gallow-Tree been ill adorn'd Lords Knights and Gentlemen have there bin scorn'd 'T is not the manner of their Deaths that die That make them odious but their Obloquie Detracting from good breeding looks more black Then many faults in them good breeding lack The world miscall'd her Cheat when as her strife Was to act Natures part preserve her life Or if it was her Genius to approve O' th' Female Craft its Sentiments of Love Who can ill language on her Craft bestow In seeking to have two strings to her Bow Thus Fate with Ignominy doth reward Those daring Souls that seldom have regard To the success of what they undertake And turns a Golden Wedge into a Stake 'T was Canterbury that thrice-happy Earth Grew proud because it chanc't to give her birth Her Father though but mean by Pedigree Liv'd well belov'd in that most spacious See And she grown up to years acquiring man Improv'd till she was Metropolitan Yet her cross stars too suddenly have hurld Her parts from hence into another World HER EPITAPH HEre lieth one was hurried hence To make the World a recompence For Actions wrought by Wit and Lust Whose Closet now is in the Dust Then let her sleep for she has Wit Will give Disturbers Hit for Hit FINIS LONDON Printed for Samuel Speed 1673.