Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A51775
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On the never too much lamented death of the Most Illustrious Princess Henrietta Maria, Dutchess of Orleans, &c. an elegy.
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J. M.
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1670
(1670)
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Wing M44; ESTC R35009
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1,394
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1
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ON The never too much lamented Death of the most Illustrious PRINCESS HENRIETTA MARIA Dutchess of ORLEANS c. AN ELEGY PRoud France no more thy Flandrian Conquests boast They are but pebbles to the Gem thou 'st lost No more No more triumphant Arches raise To mournful Cypress turn thy joyful Bays England thy total dissolution fears Swoln big with Triumphs now thou 't burst with Tears Vaunt now no more what Conqu'ring France can do HENRIETTA dead thou' rt a Low-Countrey too The Flow'r de Luce is mantled now with night She 's set whose only Lustre made it bright ' Gainst death bend all thy Forces make him see His Conquests too 's nought but a Robberie Never with him be reconcil'd that dare ' Gainst Law fall on and ne're proclaim a War Few Thieves so cruel are in any Land Before they rob they use to bid men stand Yet thus far in his Onset Death was wise He manacled not her Hands but bound her Eyes For had she cast a look at him his Arm Had ne're been strong enough to do Her harm The stroke was sudden or else doubtless She With one sharp Look had stabb'd th' Anatomy What! snatch'd so quickly hence Too clownish Fate The King of Terrors should have come in stare To fetch a Princess but by this we see They who 're in Love forget their Majesty I l'e scarce believe She 's dead nor him that says Heav'ns Master-Builder would a Structure raise Costly and curious and at last to Crown His skill would quickly let it tumble down Whoever rear'd a stately Pyramid On purpose t' have it quickly ruined Methinks I hear the loud-mouth'd Cannons roar Till they were hoarse to welcome Her on Shore Methinks I see Cowes-Castle still on fire That day no common Bon-fire did require England then could not an Invasion fear What use for Castles and our Goddess here France could not bear the absence of Her light And therefore crav'd She might be still in sight But when She saw how She was treated here Fearing She ne're would move more in that Sphere In which She lately shin'd sate pensively Bewailing this but-fear'd Calamity At length She spies Her in the Arms o' th' Main And dandled on the Waves return again O'rejoy'd to see Her land did hug Her so That striving to b' a Friend She prov'd a Foe And thinking t' hold Her fast forc'd Her to go Unheard of way Friends thus to welcome home First to salute next to prepare a Tomb This to Congratulate Her safe Return To lead Her from the Ocean to the Urn What! was She wasted only o're for this To be Embalmed with Her Brother's Kiss To Her New-born England a Cradle gave And must She go to France to find a Grave But She was like the Sun and now i' th close 'T was fit She should not set where She arose France That were once the Garden of the World Art now She 's cropt into Confusion hurl'd Now She is wither'd Methinks all things fade Paris a Paradise 't was She that made Nothing looks lively now we 're drooping all Her Death hath chang'd the Summer to the Fall The Golden Orchard of th' Hesperides In what was 't richer than a Wilderness When those fair Apples all were stollen away It was not worth the Dragons while to stay She gone France lay each Souldier now to sleep What hast thou worth an arm'd Man's pains to keep Thy Sun is set all those surviving Lights Compar'd with Her that they are but fair Nights Is all that France can brag this more I 'le say France last Year won the Field this lost the Day Her fall hath laid all the World's Wonders flat There 's nothing in it now worth wondring at Unless it be Her sad untimely Fate Which Death too soon caus'd I bewail too late Quis talia fando Temperet a lachrymis J. M. LONDON Printed in the Year 1670. 66. * May 19th