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A70131 The mourning swain a funeral eclogue [sic] humbly offer'd to the memory of the Right Honourable James Earl of Abingdon / written by Mr. Robert Gould ... Gould, Robert, d. 1709? 1700 (1700) Wing G1428; ESTC R2706 10,797 28

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with more Ardor cou'd Un-seen be Ill than He 'd un-seen be Good What ever doing or where e'er he were His Privacies did no Detection fear We ne'er cou'd find Him when unfit to see Nor hear Him but the Theme was Piety No Faith by Works was ever oft'ner shown If when no act of Charity is done That day be lost He never squander'd one As soon the Sun might cross from Pole to Pole As soon the Wandring Planets cease to roll As he dismiss the Poor without their Dole No Fears by which our Scepticks are distrest E'er found the least admittance to his Breast Where e'er he turn'd his View Sea Farth and Skies GOD in his Works was present to his Eyes Unhappy they that see this wrond'rous Frame And after make a Doubt from whence it came His Converse thô 't was cheerful ne'er was Vain His Soul wou'd start to hear a word Prophane That fatal Rock where half our Nobles split Lost for the poor Repute of having Wit VVith such the Vertuous are the only Elves But Devils are thought Angels by themselves VVhere once He Lov'd He never cou'd Distrust Kind to a Fau't and to a Scruple Just But most He most did fly the Snares of Lust Not all the Darts thrown by the Beautious Kind That Light'ning like so quick a Passage find Not all their Wit and never-ending Art His once engag'd Affection cou'd divert Or melt the Chastity that Wall'd His Heart Our Saviour's Precept He to Practice brought And never never Lusted not in Thought And to reward His Truth He twice was join'd In Wedlock to the best of Women-kind The First the brightest purest Soul that e'er Was sent from Heav'n to shew us Mortals here What Angels and Translated Saints are there To see Her once was ev'ry Charm to know Of Peace above or Purity below Imagination cou'd no further go So sweet her Form th' Idea warms us yet But Ah! that Light in all her Glory set In all her Youth and we all drown'd in Tears E'er She had number'd three and thirty Years Yet thirteen times had call'd Lucina's Aid And was as oft a happy Mother made His next did a like Scene of Joy Presage That giv'n to Charm his Youth and this to Bless his Age Her Mind so justly to Her Form contriv'd The living Wife but seem'd the Dead Reviv'd No jot Impar'd or less amazing Bright For her succeeding such a Glorious Light A strange Eclipse had certainly been thrown On any Face or Vertue but her own Here were a Subject now our Voice to raise To sing at once her Sorrows and her Praise A Year but one short Year in Wedlock run E'er robb'd of all the Worth her Eyes had won Her Eyes a Charm that cou'd for Ages bind Were Comfort certain or had Fate been kind Ah Beautious VVidow cou'd I think when late The Muse did on your happy Nuptials wait That such a Scene of Pleasure Love and Light So soon wou'd close in Everlasting Night That one short Year wou'd so destructive prove To strictest Vertue and to noblest Love Ah! what avail's our Hope if Truth must here Be least or latest Providence's Care What comfort have we towards the Goal to strive If thus the Stream of Fate at Random drive If all the Blessings of the Good and Fair Must like a Bubble break and end in Air Damon You know there 's none exempt from Human Cares But Friend you lose His Vertues in your Tears Alexis Forgive me Damon I 've too long digrest But who cou'd hold to see such Charms distrest All Praise we owe is to his Vertues due But some regard must wait on Beauty too Ev'n He himself wou'd Pardon such as start To give our Duty where he He gave his Heart But to our View His Temp'rance next appears His fast Companion from his early Years In all th' Affluence of a Wealth so vast He ne'er the Common Bounds of Nature past Thô on his Board where all the Season's smil'd What Earth cou'd furnish plentiously was pil'd Thô there the Sea a constant Tribute paid And richest VVines declining Nature's aid Flow'd round as from a Spring that ne'er decay'd 'T was but prepar'd proportion'd to His Store To feast his Neighbours and to feed the Poor How oft wou'd He from all his State descend Then only proud when He cou'd serve a Friend Upon His Word you as on Fate might rest The rather if it crost His Interest To Truth ev'n his most trivial Thoughts did tend As heavy Bodies sink and Flames ascend Ev'n Contraries His Meekness reconcil'd As soon as Anger touch'd his Breast 't was Mild His Frowns so stern when he did Vice reprove Through His Aversion made you see his Love From most resentment does in Hate conclude But his Concern was always for your Good For ev'ry turn of Human Chance prepar'd His Vertues ne'er were missing from his Guard And by a wond'rous Mixture you might find In him the Hero and the Christian join'd The Loftiest Courage and the Lowliest Mind VVhat shall we say unless by Angels Penn'd His Praises like our Grief can have no end Nature her self does of this WORTHY boast Aloud she cries Here was no Labour lost While to their various Molds I 'd others sit Ten thousand fail me for one lucky hit Hereafter when the Nobler Souls I Frame Such as shall early get a Deathless Name And late pursue the shining Chase of Fame They by this PATTERN shall be all Design'd And Copying Him Exalt the long Degraded Kind Mena. Were not your Sight subservient to your Moan You wou'd perceive it is already done What Copy can you hope to see so fair As that he drew in His Illustrious HEIR Who is more likely Fame 's now sinking blast To lift again as high and make it last A Noble Character I grant you 've drawn But since 't is Darkness there look on the Rising Dawn What Promises Bertudor's Worth cou'd give Like a New Eden all in Him revive Then in our Hope His CONSORT with Him shares Born for His Ease and soft'ning all His Cares She does the Noblest Modern Instance prove Of Peace in Wedlock and of Truth in Love This Happy Pair thy Sorrows shou'd divert And never was a Nobler VVork for Art Damon Begin Alexis let thy tuneful Song Paint Him all Lovely Affable and Young Then let it shew the vast advance His Youth Has made in Honour Eloquence and Truth How none to Pleasure e'er was less a Slave More throughly Noble nor more early Brave VVith Him his Gen'rous Brothers VVorth proclaim VVho what they owe Their Birth will pay in Fame In Peace they shall the Arts of Peace adorn Or War if they for bloody War are born His Sisters then shou'd be Triumphant shown Their Sables off and all their Brightness on Warming where e'er their happy Influence flies Love in their Mien and Conquest in their Eyes Menalcas As justly shou'd the Fair Carnarvon's Name Be handed with Her Niece's down to Fame She who by Vertue does assert Her Blood And values less Her Birth than being Good That Sister who so much His loss deplor'd And seem'd at last as hard to be restor'd That Sister who to save Him wou'd have Dy'd Who all His Sickness on Her Knees wou'd ' bide Ah! cou'd so bright a Suppli'ant be deny'd Let not her Num'rous Alms be hid in Night Tho Private done and flying Human Sight Nor shou'd her Chastity thy Pen decline Th' Heireditary Vertue of the Line Begin and be thy Song as Famous as thy Theme's Divine Alexis Ah Friends I grant my Duty owing there But first ye Pow'rs I 'll first perform it here First with a bleeding Heart and weeping Verse Pay my last Homage to Bertudor's Hearse That Office o'er we to their Names will turn There truly Praise as here we truly Mourn But no such Theme shall now the Muse employ No thought of Comfort nor no dream of Joy Faithful to Grief and wedded to my Moan All my Relief shall be to hope for none Ha! Damon where whence came these dismal Cries Shriek'd out as they were Nature's Obsequies As if the Gen'ral Doom just now were bid And cleaving Earth were yielding up its Dead Mena. To the same Cause of Grief the Country yields I spread the News through the Wiltonian Fields No longer now bemoan'd by Swain to Swain It gather's Head and sweeps along the Plain Like an Impetuous Flood it all o'er-bears The sadder Deluge as 't is made of Tears Alexis Lead on Menalcas This will be a Scene Fit to Indulge the Sorrows I am in Hark! louder How the sad affrighting Sound Does from the Hills back on the Plain rebound And tells us Death can now no deeper Wound The Flocks and Herds run bleeting o'er the Plains And Sympathize with the Despairing Swains Some dismal Tydings Heav'n's uncommon Rage In Groans of Thunder did last Night Presage The faithful Dogs in horrid Consorts Houl'd And the fierce Woolves Un-guarded found the Fold And Croaking Ravens Death and Woe foretold With Light'ning sing'd the blasted Heath is bare And Horror is the sole Possessor there But let us haste and join 'em now their Grief Is at the full and hopeless of Relief Bertudor is their Theme Bertudor we Will cry and Eccho back their Misery Bertudor O Bertudor O no more For ever now no more Away and let me join the Weeping Throng To hear him Mourn'd to hear his Praises Sung And die with the Dear NAME upon my Tongue FINIS