University of Virginia Library

OVVEN FELTHAM. Gent. On the death of Mr. Randolph.

When Donne, and Beaumount dyed, an Epitaph
Some men (I well remember) thought unsafe;
And said they did presume to write, unlesse
They could their tears in their expression dresse.


But love makes me more bold, and tells me I,
In humble tearms to vent my piety
May safely dare; and reason thinks not fit,
For which I lov'd, I now should fear that wit,
Respect looks like a bargain, if confin'd
To rules precise; and is more just then kind,
If by a poiz'd and equall testament
It turnes good-will into a covenant
Must every present offered to a prince
Be just proportion'd to his eminence?
Or ought my Elegy unjust be thought
Because I cannot mourn thee as I ought?
Such laws as these, (if any be so bold)
Ought those unskilfull but proud souls to hold,
VVho think they could and did, at a due rate
Love thee, not me, whose love was passionate.
And hath decreed, how ere the censure go,
Thus much, although but thus, to let men know,
I do admire no Coment did presage
The mournfull period of thy wonder'd age,
Or that no Sybill did thy death fore-tell,
Since that by it alone more ill befel
The Laurell. God, then when the day was come
VVherein his Delphick-Oracle was dumb:
In meaner wits that proverb chance may hold
(That they who are soon ripe are seldom old)
But t'was a poore one, and for thee unfit,
VVhose infancy might teach their best years witt;
Whose talk was exemplary to their pains,
And whose discourse was tutor to their strains;
If thou wert serious, then the audience
Heard Plato's works in Tulli's eloquence:
I said, the mourners knew no thrifty size


In tears, but still cri'd out, oh lend more eyes.
If merry, then the juyce of Comedy
So sweetned every word, that we might see
Each stander by having enough to do
To temper mirth, untill some friend could wo
Thee take the pains to write, that so that pressure
Checking the souls quick motions, some small leasure
Might be obtain'd to make provision
Of breath, against the next Scen's action.
I could go through thy works, which will surviue
The funerall of time; and gladly strive
Beyond my power, to make that love appear
Which after death is best seen in a tear;
But praising one, I should dispraise the rest,
Since whatsoere thou didst, was still the best:
Since then I am perswaded that in thee
Wit at her acmie was, and we shall see
Posterity not daring to aspire
To equalize, but only to admire
Thee as their Arch type: with thought of thee
Henceforth I'le thus enrich my memory.
While others count from Earth-quakes, and great frost;
And say, i'th last dear year, t'would thus much cost:
My time distinctions this shall be among,
Since Wits-decay, or Randolphs death,—so long.
R. Gostelovv. M. A.