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A49106 London's sighs for her worthy patriot an elegie offered to the never-dying memory of the Honourable Sir Richard Ford, Kt., some years since lord mayor, who died Aug. 31, 1678. 1678 (1678) Wing L2951; ESTC R34999 1,091 1

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MEMENTO MORI LONDON'S SIGHS For her Worthy Patriot AN ELEGIE Offered to the never-dying Memory of the Honourable Sir RICHARD FORD Kt. Some Years since LORD MAYOR who died Aug. 31. 1678. Quocunque aspicies Luctus Gemitusque sonabant Ovid. LOndon the World 's Reverted Fate hath found 'T was burnt before and now in Tears is drown'd Just Tributary tears which from all Eyes Are paid at FORD's lamented Obsequies FORD that great Cities Honour and whose Name Lasting as Hers shall in the Rolls of Fame Stand registred He whose bright Vertues made Prejudice blush and Envy seek a shade Whose Prudence did the Broils of Faction calm And heal'd our Wounds with Moderation's Balm Teaching the World this Lesson That none can Prove a true Patriot but the Loyal man Revolve his Counsels so maturely wise They always Conquer'd where they did Advise Solid but not severe he could unite Candor with Prudence Prudence with Delight Courteous without Exceptions or Self-ends Kinde to the Stranger Cordial to his Friends Liberal but not profuse fit to express The difference 'twixt true Bounty and Excess All-Gentleman and though both States he try'd Free from Town-Avarice and Courtiers Pride But who can write his Story 't was so ample As might serve both our Wonder and Example So circumspect each Action and so just Poiz'd in the Scale of Truth that scarce one Dust Or Atome did fall scanty or surmount In the Examen of his Life's account No worldly Cares could discompose or cross His thoughts with sense of Lucre or of Loss No shocks of Fate or Fortune once controul Or storm the Bull work of his safe-built Soul No Threats could fright his loyal temper He When half the Land Apostatiz'd stood free In his Resolves abhorring to divide Himself or shift his Tenets with the Tide He sought not in those troubled streams to swim Nor courted Honour which so courted Him Peace was his Aim and End who liv'd and dy'd In a sweet Calm when most o'th'Earth beside Reel'd with those storms of War whose Shocks have hurl'd Realms from their Centre and unhing'd the World And now blest Soul though thou from hence art fled To Abraham's bosome and thy Body dead Though Time and the devouring Grave may strive To Riot on thy Flesh thy Fame 's alive Good works are Spices Loyalty Perfume Vertues are Odours they can ne'r consume Devotion smells like Spikenard and the breath Of pious Praise 's not subject unto death These are fresh Oyntments that shall ever be A precious Balm to save thy Memorie Vertue it self 's a Monument and will bring To good mens Honours an Eternal Spring When Arms and Brass and Lead and Marble must Waste to a Chaos of confused Dust. The EPITAPH HEre lies a Just and Pious Magistrate Snatcht hence by the Impartial Law of Fate For whom by Turns both Court and City strove And each his prudent Conduct did approve And grac'd his Merits with Esteem and Love Till Heaven desirous of so fair a Gem Recall'd his Soul to th' new Jerusalem Where an Enfranchiz'd Citizen he sings Praise with the Courtiers of the King of Kings With Allowance LONDON Printed for L. C. 1678.