University of Virginia Library

---

126

In answer of an Elegiacall Letter upon the death of the King of Sweden from Aurelian Townsend, inviting me to write on that subject.

Why dost thou sound, my deare Aurelian,
In so shrill accents, from thy Barbican,
A loude allarum to my drowsie eyes,
Bidding them wake in teares and Elegies
For mightie Swedens fall? Alas! how may
My Lyrique feet, that of the smooth soft way
Of Love, and Beautie, onely know the tread,
In dancing paces celebrate the dead
Victorious King, or his Majesticke Hearse
Prophane with th'humble touch of their low verse?
Virgil, nor Lucan, no, nor Tasso more
Then both, not Donne, worth all that went before,
With the united labour of their wit
Could a just Poem to this subject fit,
His actions were too mighty to be rais'd
Higher by Verse, let him in prose be prays'd,

---

127

In modest faithfull story, which his deedes
Shall turne to Poems: when the next Age reades
Of Frankfort, Leipsigh, Worsburgh, of the Rhyne;
The Leck, the Danube, Tilly, Wallestein,
Bavaria, Papenheim, Lutzenfield, where Hee
Gain'd after death a posthume Victorie,
They'le thinke his Acts things rather feign'd then done
Like our Romances of the Knight o'th' Sun.
Leave we him then to the grave Chronicler,
Who though to Annals he can not refer
His too-briefe storie, yet his Journals may
Stand by the Cæsars yeares, and every day
Cut into minutes, each, shall more containe
Of great designement then an Emperours raigne;
And (since 'twas but his Church-yard) let him have
For his owne ashes now no narrower Grave
Then the whole German Continents vast wombe,
Whilst all her Cities doe but make his Tombe:
Let us to supreame providence commit
The fate of Monarchs, which first thought it fit
To rend the Empire from the Austrian graspe,
And next from Swedens, even when he did claspe
Within his dying armes the Soveraigntie
Of all those Provinces, that men might see

---

128

The Divine wisedome would not leave that Land
Subject to any one Kings sole command.
Then let the Germans feare if Cæsar shall,
Or the Vnited Princes, rise, and fall,
But let us that in myrtle bowers sit
Vnder secure shades, use the benefit
Of peace and plenty, which the blessed hand
Of our good King gives this obdurate Land,
Let us of Revels sing, and let thy breath
(Which fill'd Fames trumpet with Gustavus death,
Blowing his name to heaven) gently inspire
Thy past'rall pipe, till all our swaines admire
Thy song and subject, whilst they both comprise
The beauties of the SHEPHERDS PARADISE;
For who like thee (whose loose discourse is farre
More neate and polisht then our Poems are,
Whose very gate's more gracefull then our dance)
In sweetly-flowing numbers may advance
The glorious night? When, not to act foule rapes,
Like birds, or beasts, but in their Angel-shapes
A troope of Deities came downe to guide
Our steerelesse barkes in passions swelling tide
By vertues Carde, and brought us from above
A patterne of their owne celestiall love.

---

129

Nor lay it in darke sullen precepts drown'd
But with rich fancie, and cleare Action crown'd
Through a misterious fable (that was drawne
Like a transparant veyle of purest Lawne
Before their dazelling beauties) the divine
Venus, did with her heavenly Cupid shine.
The stories curious web, the Masculine stile;
The subtile sence, did Time and sleepe beguile,
Pinnion'd and charm'd they stood to gaze upon
Th'Angellike formes, gestures, and motion.
To heare those ravishing sounds that did dispence
Knowledge and pleasure, to the soule, and sense.
It fill'd us with amazement to behold
Love made all spirit, his corporeall mold
Dissected into Atomes melt away
To empty ayre, and from the grosse allay
Of mixtures, and compounding Accidents
Resin'd to immateriall Elements,
But when the Queene of Beautie did inspire
The ayre with perfumes, and our hearts with fire,
Breathing from her celestiall Organ sweet
Harmonious notes, our soules fell at her feet,
And did with humble reverend dutie, more
Her rare perfections, then high state adore,

---

130