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B04625 On the death of her illustrious grace Anne Dutchess-Dowager of Albemarle, who sickned with, and dyed twenty dayes after the Duke her husband; he the third of January, and she the twenty third of the same moneth, 1669. 1669 (1669) Wing O304; Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[3] 1,314 1

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ON THE DEATH OF HER ILLUSTRIOUS GRACE ANNE Dutchess-Dowager of Albemarle Who Sickned with and Dyed twenty dayes after the Duke Her Husband He the Third of January and She the Twenty third of the same Moneth 1669. SCarce had I breath'd the DUKES Elogium In panting Prose before a Second Doom Invok'd my Genius to appear in Verse And offer Incense to His DUTCHESS Herse Though Her Embalming needeth here no more Then Gold in Peru or a Map on Shore A Dame of deep Endowments and more true Intrinsique value than the Dull Age knew Whose Zeal and Loyalty through the Realm did ring Fervent to GOD and Cordial to the King Whose Oeconomique and Domestique Cares Proclaim'd her Prudence in her own Affairs Which with Her Frugal-Conduct might ingage Th' Examples of most Madams of our Age Who wrack their wealth on Riots and consume Whole Seigniories in●●inting and Perfume But I 'le not Satyrize nor blast my Bayes With their Reproches which must Crown Her Praise Whose Vnstain'd Name Clear Innocence and Truth The Green Ingredients of her Vernal youth Increasing with her did corroborate The Growing Graces of her Greatned State Which like tall Trees did from low Roots produce Fruits of more Substance and of sweeter Juice Witness Her Secret Alms well seen and known In our Horizon though no Trump were blown Which sham'd their Charity and such Zealots chid Whose left-hand reckons what their right-hand did Nor did that Grandeur on Her Husbands side Or Her own Fullness swell her into Pride Who both the difference and Decorum knew 'Twixt a great Dutchess and good Christian too Compassionate she was and humbly prone To Condescention in her highest Zone Thus the Sun shines alike and sheds his showrs On Barren Heaths as well as Beds of Flowrs Friendly to all and affable to those If not the Churches and great CHARLES his Foes Her Constant Soul disdeining to comply When Hope lay low and Anarchy pearch'd high And most Mens Bowls ran biass'd to the Times Crowns with their Scepters being counted Crimes Of such Transcendency as never wou'd Admit of expiation but by Blood Then like some Star in this Cymmerian night Of Error did Her Loyalty shine bright And with unwearied Industry and pain Strive to bring home three Realms on Charles his Wain Scotland invelopt in a Mist felt then The Influence of Her Tongue and Brothers Pen Which steel'd the Sword new-formed in the Forge Of England's Champion truer than ST GEORGE And as some weightier Horologe impow'rs The Exterior Gnomen to direct his howrs Though that Automaton too both heard and seen Is actuated by occult Pow'rs within So in that Grand Affair each Spring and Lock Lent life and vigour to this Vocal Clock Which striking in such season did confound Our BABEL-STATE allarum'd at the Sound Whence waking Royalists rose to pay their due Thanks joyntly Madam to blest GEORGE and YOV And must You Two so tamely now retire From the Worlds Theater whose Souls gave Fire Prometheus-like to three inanimate Cadaverous KINGDOMS buried in a State Must You Both mixed co-interred lie In the same Monument who Both did die In the same Month Thus Heav'n and Earth thought just You should not be divided in your Dust Whom neither Sickness Life nor Death could part Both Individual in each others Heart And though Illustrious Madam YOU can't Rest In a more glorious Shrine than in His Breast Yet 't were great pity that a single Grave Should Confine HIM who well deserv'd to have Three Kingdoms for his CLOYSTER and have been Pourtray'd in CHURCHES as was that good Queen Were but brave Londons Patriots put in trust To pay this Duty to their Champions Dust The voice of whose Loud Actions shall strike dumb The Present and amuse the Age to come Imprinted at LONDON Anno Dom. 1669.