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A35201 An elegie upon the death of the Right Honourable Anne, Countesse of Shrewsbury by J.C., Gentleman. Crouch, John, fl. 1660-1681. 1657 (1657) Wing C7295; ESTC R21037 4,341 11

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AN ELEGIE Upon the Death of the RIGHT HONOURABLE ANNE COUNTESSE OF SHREWSBURY By J. C. Gentleman LONDON Printed 1657. To the Right Honourable THE EARL OF SHREWSBURY IF your Lordship can descend so low as to own those Relations which some of my friends now have or lately have had to your Lordship this Dedication will be so much the less your wonder and indeed in my own present capacity I take my self to be within the circle of duty though more remote from the center of your Immediate Commands My Lord This Elegie is guilty in two particulars first that it raises the dead uncivil almost to a miracle after the expence of so much sorrow to live shall I say or rather to bleed afresh to your awakned memory putting you in mind of a sad sequestration never to be compounded for Next that it rudely paints out in dead colours those lineaments of virtue which in her were so lively exprest that I may religiously affirm she was a True Copy drawn from the Divine Original And let it be the mark of my weakness so long as it is likewise the merit of her Glory to be above both my conception and expression I confess the contemplation of her Excellencies might creat a Poet but such a Poet must needs act beneath his Creation his form being too Noble for the matter it is to actuate My Lord Your deceased Lady whom we commemorate was full of sweetness and benignity and your Lordship is as much Executor of her perfections as you are Master of your own you will therefore be pleased in the name of both to pardon this presumption of Your Lordships most humble Servant JO CROUCH TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY MOUNT GARRET MADAM THough by the power of Law and Religion my Lord of Shrewsbury was sole proprietor of your Daughter and her Inheritance both which he purchas'd by the instrate of his merits yet by the Law of Nature your Honour had the first and most intimate propriety She being your real flesh and his Metaphorical yet that more real then usually Metaphors intend the former tye ingageth conscience but the latter more nearly obligeth affection Madam I thought it my duty to divide this service between my Lord and You being both joynt Purchasers in her life and Sympathizers in her death if there be any thing in this Elegie which may pretend to Life and Spirit doubtless it was inspir'd by the Genius of your deceased Daughter if any thing of sadness and mourning your Ladyship may suppose it dropt from my Sisters eyes 'T is smooth and easie like her temper and disposition it commemorates and your Ladyship as your goodness must prompt you will I hope be the same to it And upon that account onely I expect your Ladyship will pardon this service and the weakness of it to MADAM Your Honours most humble Servant JO CROUCH THE ELEGIE FArewel Great Conyers Heir thou brightest Pearl Nature ' ere polisht to enrich an Earl An Earl of the first Magnitude yet He So high concludes he was too low for Thee His goodness greater then his Name before Render'd his Titles too inferiour He kindly fell degraded by his Love That humbled this great Turtle to his Dove But what his goodness wrought before his Fate Sad Earl submits him still beneath thy State Death that grand Tyrant over Mortal things Who disthrones Emperors Protectors Kings Has inthron'd Thee now rais'd as far above Thy Earl as he transcends all Earles in Love Hard lot He loves still rather more then less Must keep his Love and loose his happiness Whose sorrow knows no ground of joy but this No power below Heaven could divide your blisse He 's not alone their death when great Stars fall Though not disease proves Epidemical Fair Saint how many lives lament thy death Whose blood was warm'd by thine not their own breath Forgive astonishment if it cannot mourn Our Hearts are dead and buried in thy urn Pardon our eyes if dry thei 're sunk and weep Back to our hearts our sorrows are so deep But let 's with leave of Providence inquire Why this Fair Rose must in its June expire Was it because she took no pleasure here In Husband Mother Babes Three things so dear I 'me sure they all lov'd her and now improve Their grief by the dimensions of their Love Shee dy'd but once O that vast once but they Each hour sad tributes to her Mem'ry pay Sometimes our vigorous phansies though in vain Possest act high and fetch her back again With an Herculean Love Now Hopes and Fears Struggle and Joy smiles in a Bath of Tears But O the emptiness of that Creation Takes Birth and form from fond imagination One minute makes her live another dye Thus we her death our own griefs multiply O then 't was not for want of Love she dy'd That might have been sooner then life supply'd Her death knew no such disharmonious strife But answer'd the sweet Musick of her life Her last sigh loves last Eccho though but faint Breathd out her kind soul in an amorous pant Her Lord and Shee never was kinder Pair One Soul mov'd both which fed on Love not Air How often did this sweet expression start From the full satisfaction of her Heart I would not change quoth she good Shrewsbury's Wife For Empress better pleas'd with him then life Nor was her venture small when providence led This best of Ladies to her Nuptial Bed She was her Fathers Heir and must disclaim Not onely his Estate but House and Name That Dower must vast and comprehensive be Whose Total is the whole Posterity When Conyers must be lost except the Font Christen the Name and stamp new life upon 't Here exspir'd not the breath of one but all A Families life dead in one funeral Were I to write her Epitaph it should be Here lyes interr'd a Genealogie Posterity Ancestors all dead but Name And that to live upon the breath of Fame Live pretty Lady Conyers live to save Talbot from guilt and Conyers from the grave And yet good soul this universal sale Still seem'd to her too cheap to countervail His merit and her Love t' improve her land Gives him her life her lif 's at his command Good Saint she might have sav'd this liberal cost Had she but reckon'd what he reckon'd most Had she cast in the treasure of her mind Sh' had rais'd her sum had been both rich and kind That was the first unkindness she ere gave Her dearest Lord to lead him to her Grave This Loyalty to her Lord could not impair Her duty equal to her Mothers care In all just things obedient to her will As if the Countess had been Conyers still And might have well appear'd to vulgar sence Virgin for aspect duty Innocence No Child to Parent more just homage paid Onely she dyed and there first disobey'd That was against her Mothers will you 'l say But 't was Heav'ns Mandate and she