influence all impression came But by receivers impotencies lame Who though she could not transubstantiate All states to gold yet guilded every state So that some Princes have some temperance Some Counsellers some purpose to advance The common profit and some people have Some stay no more then Kings should give to crave Some women have some taciturnity Some nunneries some graines of chastitie She that did thus much and much more could doe But that our age was Iron and rustie too Shee she is dead she 's dead when thou knowst this Thou knowst how drie a Cinder this world is And learn'st thus much by our Anatomy That 't is in vaine to dew or mollifie It with thy teares or sweat or blood nothing Is worth our travaile griefe or perishing But those rich joyes which did possesse her heart Of which she 's now partaker and a part But as in cutting up a man that 's dead The body will not last out to have read On every part and therefore men direct Their speech to parts that are of most effect So the worlds carcasse would not last if I Were punctuall in this Anatomy Nor smels it well to hearers if one tell Them their disease who faine would think thy're well Here therefore be the end and blessed maid Of whom is meant what ever hath been said Or shall be spoken well by any tongue Whose name refines course lines and makes prose song Accept this tribute and his first yeares rent Who till his darke short tapers end be spent As oft as thy feast sees this widowed earth Will yearely celebrate thy second birth That is thy death for though the soule of man Be got when man is made 't is borne but than When man doth die our body 's as the wombe And as a Mid-wife death directs it home And you her creatures whom she workes upon And have your last and best concoction From her example and her vertue if you In reverence to her do thinke it due That no one should her praises thus rehearse As matter fit for Chronicle not verse Vouchsafe to call to minde that God did make A last and lasting'st peece a song He spake To Moses to deliver unto all That song because hee knew they would let fall The Law the Prophets and the History But keepe the song still in their memory Such an opinion in due measure made Me this great office boldly to invade Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre Mee from thus trying to emprison her Which when I saw that a strict grave could doe I saw not why verse might not do so too Verse hath a middle nature heaven keepes Soules The Grave keepes bodies Verse the Fame enroules A Funerall ELEGIE 'T Is lost to trust a Tombe with such a guest Or to confine her in a marble chest Alas what 's Marble Jeat or Porphyrie Priz'd with the Chrysolite of either eye Or with those Pearles and Rubies which she was Joyne the two Indies in one Tombe 't is glasse And so is all to her materials Though every inch were ten Escurials Yet she 's demolish'd can wee keepe her then In works of hands or of the wits of men Can these memorials ragges of paper give Life to that name by which name they must live Sickly alas short-liv'd aborted bee Those carcasse verses whose soule is not shee And can shee who no longer would be shee Being such a Tabernacle stoop to be In paper wrapt or when shee would not lie In such a house dwell in an Elegie But'tis no matter wee may well allow Verse to live so long as the world will now For her death wounded it The world containes Princes for armes and counsellors for braines Lawyers for tongues Divines for hearts and more The rich for stomackes and for backs the poore The officers for hands merchants for feet By which remote and distant Countries meet But those fine spirits which do tune and set This Organ are those peeces which beget Wonder and love and these were shee and shee Being spent the world must needs decrepit bee For since death will proceed to triumph still He can finde nothing after her to kill Except the world it selfe so great was shee Thus brave and confident may Nature bee Death cannot give her such another blow Because shee cannot such another show But must wee say she 's dead may 't not be said That as a sundred clocke is peecemeale laid Not to be lost but by the makers hand Repollish'd without errour then to stand Or as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs It selfe into the earth and after comes Having first made a naturall bridge to passe For many leagues farre greater then it was May 't not be said that her grave shall restore Her greater purer firmer then before Heaven may say this and joy in 't but can wee Who live and lacke her here this vantage see What is 't to us alas if there have beene An Angell made a Throne or Cherubin Wee lose by 't and as aged men are glad Being tastlesse growne to joy in joyes they had So now the sick starv'd world must feed upon This joy that we had her who now is gone Rejoyce then Nature and this World that you Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue Your force and vigour ere it were neere gone Wisely bestow'd and laid it all on one One whose cleare body was so pure and thinne Because it need disguise no thought within 'T was but a through-light scarfe her minde t'inroule Or exhalation breath'd out from her Soule One whom all men who durst no more admir'd And whom who ere had worke enough desir'd As when a Temple 's built Saints emulate To which of them it shall be consecrate But as when heaven lookes on us with new eyes Those new starres every Artist exercise VVhat place they should assigne to them they doubt Argue ' and agree not till those starres goe out So the world studied whose this peece should be Till shee can be no bodies else nor shee But like a Lampe of Balsamum desir'd Rather t' adorne then last she soone expir'd Cloath'd in her virgin white integritie For marriage though it doth not staine doth die To scape th'infirmities which wait upon VVoman she went away before sh'was one And the worlds busie noyse to overcome Tooke so much death as serv'd for opium For though she could not nor could chuse to dye She'ath yeelded to too long an extasie Hee which not knowing her said History Should come to reade the booke of destiny How faire and chast humble and high she'ad been Much promis'd much perform'd at not fifteene And measuring future things by things before Should turne the leafe to reade and reade no more VVould thinke that either destiny mistooke Or that some leaves were torne out of the booke But 't is not so Fate did but usher her To yeares of reasons use and then inferre Her destiny to her selfe which liberty She tooke but for thus much thus much
our land waters teares of passion vent Our waters then above our firmament Teares which our Soule doth for her sins let fall Take all a brackish tast and Funerall And even those teares which should wash sin are sin We after Gods Noe drowne the world againe Nothing but man of all invenom'd things Doth worke upon itselfe with inborne stings Teares are false Spectacles we cannot see Through passions mist what wee are or what shee In her this sea of death hath made no breach But as the tide doth wash the slimie beach And leaves embroderd workes upon the sand So is her flesh refin'd by deaths cold hand As men of China ' after an ages stay Do take up Porcelane where they buried Clay So at this grave her limbecke which refines The Diamonds Rubies Saphires Pearles Mines Of which this flesh was her soule shall inspire Flesh of such stuffe as God when his last fire Annuls this world to recompence it shall Make and name then th'Elixar of this All. They say the sea when it gaines loseth too If carnall Death the yonger brother doe Usurpe the body 'our soule which subject is To th' elder death by sinne is freed by this They perish both when they attempt the just For graves our trophies are and both deaths dust So unobnoxious now she'hath buried both For none to death sinnes that to sinne is loth Nor doe they die which are not loth to die So hath she this and that virginity Grace was in her extremely diligent That kept her from sinne yet made her repent Of what small spots pure white complaines Alas How little poyson cracks a christall glasse She sinn'd but just enough to let us see That extreme truth lack'd little of a lye Making omissions acts laying the touch Of sinne on things that sometimes may be such As Moses Cherubines whose natures doe Surpasse all speed by him are winged too So would her soule already'in heaven seeme then To clyme by teares the common staires of men How fit she was for God I am content To speake that death his vaine hast may repent How fit for us how even and how sweet How good in all her titles and how meet To have reform'd this forward heresie That woman can no parts of friendship bee How Morall how Divine shall not be told Lest they that heare her vertues thinke her old And lest we take Deaths part and make him glad Of such a prey and to his tryumph adde Elegie on Mris Boulstred DEath I recant and say unsaid by mee What ere hath slip'd that might diminish thee Spirituall treason atheisme 't is to say That any can thy Summons disobey Th' earths face is but thy Table there are set Plants cattell men dishes for Death to eate In a rude hunger now hee millions drawes Into his bloody or plaguy or sterv'd jawes Now hee will seeme to spare and doth more wast Eating the best first well preserv'd to last Now wantonly he spoiles and eates us not But breakes off friends and lets us peecemeale rot Nor will this earth serve him he sinkes the deepe Where harmelesse fish monastique silence keepe Who were Death dead by Roes of living sand Might spunge that element and make it land He rounds the aire and breakes the hymnique notes In birds Heavens choristers organique throats Which if they did not dye might seeme to bee A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie O strong and long-liv'd death how cam'st thou in And how without Creation didst begin Thou hast and shalt see dead before thou dyest All the foure Monarchies and Antichrist How could I thinke thee nothing that see now In all this All nothing else is but thou Our births and life vices and vertues bee Wastfull consumptions and degrees of thee For wee to live our bellowes weare and breath Nor are wee mortall dying dead but death And though thou beest O mighty bird of prey So much reclaim'd by God that thou must lay All that thou kill'st at his feet yet doth hee Reserve but few and leaves the most to thee And of those few now thou hast overthrowne One whom thy blow makes not ours nor thine own She was more stories high hopelesse to come To her Soule thou'hast offer'd at her lower roome Her Soule and body was a King and Court But thou hast both of Captaine mist and fort As houses fall not though the King remove Bodies of Saints rest for their soules above Death gets'twixt soules and bodies such a place As sinne insinuates 'twixt just men and grace Both worke a separation no divorce Her Soule is gone to usherup her corse Which shall be'almost another soule for there Bodies are purer then best Soules are here Because in her her virtues did outgoe Her yeares would'st thou O emulous death do so And kill her young to thy losse must the cost Of beauty ' and wit apt to doe harme be lost What though thou found'st her proofe'gainst sins of youth Oh every age a diverse sinne pursueth Thou should'st have stay'd and taken better hold Shortly ambitious covetous when old She might have prov'd and such devotion Might once have stray'd to superstition If all her vertues must have growne yet might Abundant virtue'have bred a proud delight Had she persever'd just there would have bin Some that would sinne mis-thinking she did sinne Such as would call her friendship love and faine To sociablenesse a name profane Or sinne by tempting or not daring that By wishing though they never told her what Thus might'st thou'have slain more soules had'st thou not crost Thy selfe and to triumph thine army lost Yet though these wayes be lost thou hast left one Which is immoderate griefe that she is gone But we may scape that sinne yet weepe as much Our teares are due because we are not such Some teares that knot of friends her death must cost Because the chaine is broke but no linke lost To Sr Henry Goodyere WHo makes the Past a patterne for next yeare Turnes no new leafe but still the same things reads Seene things he sees againe heard things doth heare And makes his life but like a paire of beads A Palace when 't is that which it should be Leaves growing and stands such or else decayes But hee which dwels there is not so for hee Strives to urge upward and his fortune raise So had your body'her morning hath her noone And shall not better her next change is night But her faire larger guest to'whom Sun and Moone Are sparkes and short liv'd claimes another right The noble Soule by age growes lustier Her appetite and her digestion mend Wee must not sterve nor hope to pamper her With womens milke and pappe unto the end Provide you manlyer dyet you have seene All libraries which are Schools Camps Courts But aske your Garners if you have not beene In harvests too indulgent to your sports Would you redeeme it then your selfe transplant A while from hence Perchance outlandish ground Beares no
justly proud and gladly safe that thou dost dwell with me She that Oh broke her faith would soon breake thee Negative love I Never stoop'd so low as they Which on an eye cheeke lip can prey Seldome to them which soare no higher Then vertue or the minde to'admire For sense and understanding may Know what gives fuell to their fire My love though silly is more brave For may I misse when ere I crave If I know yet what I would have If that be simply perfectest Which can by no way be exprest But Negatives my love is so To All which all love I say no. If any who deciphers best What we know not our selves can know Let him teach mee that nothing This As yet my ease and comfort is Though I speed not I cannot misse The Prohibition TAke heed of loving mee At least remember I forbade it thee Not that I shall repaire my'unthrifty wast Of Breath and Blood upon thy sighes and teares By being to mee then that which thou wast But so great Joy our life at once outweares Then least thy love by my death frustrate bee If thou love mee take heed of loving mee Take heed of hating mee Or too much triumph in the Victorie Not that I shall be mine owne officer And hate with hate againe retaliate But thou wilt lose the stile of conquerour If I thy conquest perish by thy hate Then least my being nothing lessen thee If thou hate mee take heed of hating mee Yet love and hate mee too So these extreames shall ne'r their office doe Love mee that I may die the gentler way Hate mee because thy love is too great for mee Or let these two themselves not me decay So shall I live thy stay not triumph bee Lest thou thy love and hate and mee undoe To let mee live Oh love and hate mee too The Expiration SO so breake off this last'lamenting kisse Which sucks two soules and vapors Both away Turne thou ghost that way and let mee turne this And let our selves benight our happiest day Wee aske none leave to love nor will we owe Any so cheape a death as saying Goe Goe and if that word have not quite kil'd thee Ease mee with death by bidding mee goe too Oh if it have let my word worke on mee And a just office on a murderer doe Except it be too late to kill me so Being double dead going and bidding goe The Computation FOr the first twenty yeares since yesterday I scarce beleev'd thou could'st be gone away For forty more I fed on favours past And forty'on hopes that thou would'st they might last Teares drown'd one hundred and sighes blew out two A thousand I did neither thinke nor doe Or not divide all being one thought of you Or in a thousand more forgot that too Yet call not this long life But thinke that I Am by being dead Immortall Can ghosts die Elegie LAnguage thou art too narrow and too weake To ease us now great sorrow cannot speake If we could sigh out accents and weepe words Griefe weares and lessens that tears breath affords Sad hearts the lesse they seeme the more they are So guiltiest men stand mutest at the barre Not that they know not feele not their estate But extreme sense hath made them desperate Sorrow to whom we owe all that we bee Tyrant in the fift and greatest Monarchy Was 't that she did possesse all hearts before Thou hast kil'd her to make thy Empire more Knew'st thou some would that knew her not lament As in a deluge perish th' innocent Was 't not enough to have that palace wonne But thou must raze it too that was undone Had'st thou staid there and look'd out at her eyes All had ador'd thee that now from thee flies For they let out more light then they tooke in They told not when but did the day beginne She was too Saphirine and cleare to thee Clay flint and jeat now thy fit dwellings be Alas shee was too pure but not too weake Who e'r saw Christall Ordinance but would break And if wee be thy conquest by her fall Th' hast lost thy end for in her perish all Or if we live we live but to rebell They know her better now that knew her well If we should vapour out and pine and die Since shee first went that were not miserie Shee chang'd our world with hers now she is gone Mirth and prosperity is oppression For of all morall vertues she was all The Ethicks speake of vertues Cardinall Her soule was Paradise the Cherubin Set to keepe it was grace that kept out sinne Shee had no more then let in death for wee All reape consumption from one fruitfull tree God tooke her hence lest some of us should love Her like that plant him and his lawes above And when wee teares hee mercy shed in this To raise our mindes to heaven where now she is Who if her vertues would have let her stay Wee'had had a Saint have now a holiday Her heart was that strange bush where sacred fire Religion did not consume but'inspire Such piety so chast use of Gods day That what we turne to feast she turn'd to pray And did prefigure here in devout tast The rest of her high Sabaoth which shall last Angels did hand her up who next God dwell For she was of that order whence most fell Her body left with us lest some had said Shee could not die except they saw her dead For from lesse vertue and lesse beautiousnesse The Gentiles fram'd them Gods and Goddesses The ravenous earth that now woes her to be Earth too will be a Lemnia and the tree That wraps that christall in a wooden Tombe Shall be tooke up spruce fill'd with diamond And we her sad glad friends all beare a part Of griefe for all would waste a Stoicks heart Elegie to the Lady Bedford YOu that are she and you that 's double shee In her dead face halfe of your selfe shall see Shee was the other part for so they doe Which build them friendships become one of two So two that but themselves no third can fit Which were to be so when they were not yet Twinnes though their birth Cusco and Musco take As divers starres one Constellation make Pair'd like two eyes have equall motion so Both but one meanes to see one way to goe Had you dy'd first a carcasse shee had beene And wee your rich Tombe in her face had seene She like the Soule is gone and you here stay Not a live friend but thother halfe of clay And since you act that part As men say here Lies such a Prince when but one part is there And do all honour and devotion due Unto the whole so wee all reverence you For such a friendship who would not adore In you who are all what both was before Not all as if some perished by this But so as all in you contracted is As of this all though many parts decay The pure which