Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A51363
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An elegy on the death of the honourable Mr. Robert Boyle
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Morgan, Matthew, 1652-1703.
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1692
(1692)
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Wing M2732; ESTC R41363
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9,859
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20
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This viscous Gem the Sea on Prussia throws And falling little Creepers doth enclose The provident Ant was once a Captive made Surpris'd as it was wandring in the shade The Tree exuded and the little Fop Was strait imprison'd in a yellow drop So he that living was obscurely hid Now lay entomb'd within a Pyramid But BOYLE a wondrous story doth relate For all that 's Curious he 's design'd by Fate That in a Sanguine Ladies blushing Face Nature her Wonders there doth always place Blood was to such a fine consistence wrought In the Balsamick Net her Locks were caught The Curls are fasten'd to the Cheeks which glow The women thought that she had gum'd too low She did not dawb with false Complection thick For then the hair might in the mortar stick Native it was and pure Vermilion all And the attraction was Electrical Now set this mirror with such lustre deckt That there each Noble-man may his face reflect Make it the Topick of his emulous strife How he may imitate such a spotless life Honor is bought and great Attendance hir'd But it is Learning only that 's acquir'd These like dead weights uneasily are born They load but only Knowledg doth adorn 'T is our prerogative above the Brutes There is a sort of glimmering sense in Roots Graces of Reason you in Beasts may mark Of a faint Jewel an imperfect spark Outdo the Fox in stratagem if you can Grave as a Visier in a full Divan There was a brave resentment in an Horse And the Brasilian Parrot can discourse He in a barren Soil his Seeds did plant And succor'd Ignorance the greatest want All passages of Counsel Pride doth shut But Cataracts may be Couch'd and Films are Cut The rays of Vision that entirely stops For wise Instructors do despair of Fops Those are Enlighten'd after pains endur'd But the Conceited Wretch can ne're be Cur'd Envy by ravenous Wolves and Harpies drawn The Foam of Cerberus of Styx the Spawn Who rails at Mountains living in the Vale And others Sanguine looks do make her Pale So strong a mind could not her Captive make Could not insinuate with the smallest Snake And when of such a Prize the Fury mist Did grind her Teeth and all her Serpents hist No Age with Wonders teeming did bring forth Any superior to him in Worth He with a Gaiety of Temper charm'd The Froward of their Anger he disarm'd He wonder'd why so furious they became For his own Breast did never feel the Flame He all the Battering Rams with softness broke His Patience not his Sickness did provoke Repeated shocks of Pain did make him faint But all could not extort the least Complaint His Mind inflexible did in vain attack Walk'd in the Furnace sung upon the Rack Tho Tortur'd yet could still resolve a Doubt Reason'd like Possidonius with the Gout And now he 's mix'd with the Angelick Race Only of Happiness hath chang'd the place For whilst below he still enjoy'd a Calm Now doth embrace the Tree which drop'd the Balm His Body 's in a richer Mantle clad But nothing to his righteous Soul can add Rome chiefly did that Purple Veil extol Which deck'd Jove's Temple in the Capitol Did the Plebeian Race of Light out-shine Of that the strong Reflections were Divine So all things were Eclips'd by mighty BOYLE The brightest Wits were unto his a Foil Marriage to be a Lottery he thought In which your happiness is too dearly bought The venture in this Game of chance doth rise Above the real value of the Prize He of decaying Beauty was not fond But Friendship was his firm and lasting Bond Without allay this is a Virgin-Ore And his Friend was his dearest Lindamor The Tie is now Consummated above Where he enjoys his own Seraphick Love Death from the Body did his Soul release The seat of each pragmatical Disease A wound inflicted deeply turns the Brain Then you are twisted with Arthritick pain With Cold you shiver and are scorch'd with Heat The Gout constrains the hands and binds the feet You with the Palsy are but just alive Half of himself the Patient doth survive Then the whole System with the Scurvey jarrs You 're drown'd in Dropsies strangled w th Catarrs An Apoplexy doth attack the Head He Bow'd where he Bow'd he fell down Dead Each trivial accident doth Death provoke A Grape-stone did the sweet Anacreon Choke From griping Talons once an Oyster fell On AEschylus and broke a finer Shell The Stone doth for your utmost Patience call It is an hard concreted Mineral The vertue of the Magnet it will feel Out of it draws small Particles of Steel With legion of Torture it is full Beyond the Rack or Phalaris's Bull From all things that ocour we Death may fear Judge right and we are Ship-wrack'd everywhere Come in the Vault the noble Body lay The mournful Relicks of his precious Clay We need not here condoling Women hire With real Grief we 're ready to expire Let Clouds of Incense mount unto the Sky Throw of and let the Imperial Eagle fly Which in the Clefts of lofty Rocks is caught The lively Image of his towring Thought BOYLE was as Generous tho not so Fierce His Judgment like the others Eyes did Pierce On Objects worthy of his Mind did fix His Notions won't with any others mix Let him within those hallow'd Entrails rest With a more lasting solitude now Blest Till the World labours with a second Birth Whirl-winds shall shake the Center of the Earth The Globe upon uncertain Hinges roles And one Convulsive Pang shall join the Poles Then the Arch-Angels last but dreadful sound Shall wake the Nations sleeping under Ground His Character 's above my puny strength Let a Vandike his Picture draw at length For him the richest Colours are too faint Phidias should Carve him and Apelles Paint A Volume his Encomium should resound A Poem such as mine 's a narrow bound And here your Genius you hold in with Pain 'T is the most irksome Province to contain Devouring Time shall not his Statue wast But of his Wit the Monuments shall out-last Duilius Pillar and Seleucus League 'T was honest then but now it is intreague To his research all Secrets lay unbar'd And nothing for his Wisdom was too hard Understood Men and every Science knew Was to the Practice of each Vertue True And now I 've finish'd this unwelcome Theme Of Grief I might indulge a private Stream For Thyrsis and Damaetas both are Dead And I am left behind a lump of Lead My Fate depends upon your single Thread Therefore with Care pray cultivate your health For in your Cargo doth consist my wealth I wish your Constitution still serene Not a discolour'd Feature may be seen Bodies are follow'd by obsequious shades When Sickness makes you droop my Pleasure fades I feel the previous symptoms of your Urn When the least Feaver warms you I must burn And when Anomalous Cold doth make you quake If in the torrid Zone yet I must shake That which did kindle shall put out our light Our Needles the same Magnet did excite A Circle terminates where it first begins We 'll dy like your Hippocrates his Twins As we in Life in Death we 'll be the same Our Piles shall make one Pyramid of Flame FINIS
AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH Of the HONOURABLE Mr. ROBERT BOYLE Eheu fugaces Posthume Posthume Labuntur anni nec pietas moram Rugis instanti senectae Afferet indomitaeque Morti. Ergo Quintilium perpetuus sopor Urget cui Pudor Justitiae soror Incorrupta Fides nudaque Veritas Quando ullum invenient parem Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit Nulli flebilior quam mihi Horat. Od. OXFORD Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD MDCXCII TO My Much Esteem'd Friend T.N. Esq YOU have exacted the severest Test In sending me so mournful a Request That I should on this doleful Matter write And like his Noctiluca shine by Night If copious Grief like Rage might make a Verse I can lament but can't adorn his Herse Parnassus now nothing but Cypress wears If Aganippe flowes it must with Tears My trembling Muse cannot the Task perform But droops like Turtles batter'd by a Storm Who are surpris'd before they shelter get She cannot fly when both her Wings are wet My Sorrow now above its source doth rise Before I write I must discharge my Eyes This faint Attempt on others may prevail In Prose to finish where my Verse must fail The best Historian of our British Isle Might here employ the Beauties of his Stile Now an Illustrious Subject he hath got Greater than all the painful Plutarch wrote He rais'd our Reformation from the Dust Clear'd it from Calumnies of Wrath and Lust He shew'd that purer Motives did provoke Our Ancestors to break the Romish Yoke And Records justify'd each Word he spoke Then he did skilfully his Portraite draw Who living was the Oracle of Law With strict Integrity did himself demean His Heart was honest and his Hands were clean He with a righteous poise did hold the Scales And his Name answer'd to the Balance Hales That fruitful Monosyllable implies All that is Learned or Devout or Wise Until a fuller Payment in doth come Accept this small and tributary Summ Sure there 's a strong Contagion in the Air 'T is not an Age our Losses can repair Syd nam did first unto the Stroke submit With all his Judgment Elegance and Wit Nothing he knew did peevishly with-hold But with ingenuous Honesty he told He had a Roman Gallantry of Mind He was a Benefactor to Mankind Each peccant Humor freely did chastise And without Fees doth all the World advise He rescu'd us from that familiar Curse To be with Cordials stifl'd by a Nurse Their choaking Houshold-methods did defeat Oppos'd his Cold to their excess of Heat And those his temperate Regimen did save Who otherwise were destin'd to the Grave This nauseous Foe both Sexes doth infest But of fair Lineaments a dreadful pest Unto the Ladies chiefly is unkind And barbarous marks of Triumph leaves behind Then Lower Dy'd who had so many heal'd The Muscle he so well describ'd did yield As Blood in it's swift sallies from the Heart Doth convey Nourishment to every part So those two Qualities in his Stile you meet It is as Florid and it flowes as Sweet But now the Fortress doth demolish'd ly And the wet Ditch about it is drawn dry And now Great BOYLE is ravisht from our side A purer Sacrifice ne're the Altar dy'd All prosperous Omens in his Life did shine But from his Entrails we can none divine Let Death her trifling Questions now discuss And cut down all the Shrubs in Libanus Our stock of Funeral Sorrow now is spent We ha'nt one Drop their ruine to lament A Tree of the first Eminence he stood He shaded and protected all the Wood Here persecuted Birds did shelter gain The Boughs were spreading delicate the Grain Painters when vers'd in their ingenuous Art Acquire their Fame from drawing each his part One limns the drousy sweetness of the Eyes Where with the Original the Copy vies Another finely doth the Colours spread And mixeth up the charming White and Red One with a jolly roundness plumps the Hip And swells the pouting male-contented Lip Another he in Drapery is bold Makes Garments with a loose and easy fold But he is justly celebrated Great Who all the Features can with Skill compleat But here the Task more difficult we find To draw the Landskipt of so vast a Mind For here his Soul with just Grandeur doth rise And there in low Humility it lies Emergent Notions constantly did spring And still fresh Seeds did loaded Harvests bring There you a Prospect had with full delight And only Heaven did terminate your sight A liquid Chrystal there her Waters shows Just so his Eloquence like a River flows With a strong limpid Current it did smile Convey'd Fertility like the pregnant Nile Nothing of Barrenness could e're be seen But a Succession still of verdant Green Ripe Fruit from hopeful Blossoms early sprung To gain Experience he Travell'd young Lik'd theirs but reverenc'd his Native Tongue Did not his Strength on Forreign Vices wast Modest in France in Italy was Chast Tho' now the Modish Traveller doth please If he brings home a more refin'd Disease Can tell the Tennis-Courts and all the Mesles How many Leagues from Paris to Versailles What Point's in Fashion what Amours are New What Marquess last to Madam prov'd untrue BOYLE learn'd their Customes Polity Laws Had their Accomplishments without their Flaws No Ribaldry did offend the tender Ear A Vestal Virgin his Discourse might hear Each Word he utter'd had a Grain of Salt And rigid Cato could not find a Fault As Wine ferments tumultuous in the Must This is the first incitement unto Lust Our Eyes and Ears are the sly Avenues Which make the Sacred Monastry a Stews Then feign'd Romances and lascivious Plays The Flame unto a higher pitch do raise Here Phantasms thro a Labyrinth you pursue The Turns are dangerous and false the Clue The Muse that was but moderately Clean The Mask pull'd off is on the Stage Obscene And now each dawbing Pencil Venus draws Naked she Courts the Theatre's applause In such luxurious shapes She doth entice Men do not dread but are in love with Vice We into things forbidden quickly rush When once we 've overcome the Maiden Blush To Revelation he his Reason brought Altho in other things he freely thought The mistick Lock doth disappoint the Key But where he could not open did Obey If busy doubts did Sceptically rise He either stop'd or Conquer'd the surprise Did each Opinion very finely searse The Sun did all the Mists it rais'd disperse The Church of England chiefly did applaud Who to assert her needs no pious Fraud She doth not hallow wax nor Christen Bells Nor is supported with false Miracles Is not severe with Axes or the Rod Nor on a Wafer stamps an Infant God It doth not legendary Stories tell Lies ' cording to your Faith and Purse they sell She doth not think that when her Members Dy In Culinary Embers they must Fry 'T is not sufficient here to have the Cross But there the fire must purify the