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The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania

Written by the right honorable the Lady Mary Wroath

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[From victory in loue I now am come]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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249

[From victory in loue I now am come]

From victory in loue I now am come
Like a commander kild at the last blow:
In stead of Lawrell, to obtaine a tombe
With triumph that a steely faith I show.
Here must my graue be, which I thus will frame
Made of my stony heart to other name,
Then what I honor, scorne brings me my tombe,
Disdaine the Priest to bury me, I come.
Cloath'd in the reliques of a spotlesse loue,
Embrace me you that let true louers in;
Pure fires of truth doe light me when I mooue,
Which lamp-like last, as if they did begin.
On you the sacred tombe of loue, I lay
My life, neglect sends to the hellish way,
As offering of the chastest soule that knew
Loue, and his blessing, till a change both slew.

250

Here doe I sacrifice worlds time of truth,
Which onely death can let me part with all,
Though in my dying, haue perpetuall youth
Buried alone in you, whereby I fall.
Open the graues where louers Saints haue laine,
See if they will not fill themselues with paine
Of my affliction, or striue for my place,
Who with a constant honour gaine this grace.
Burne not my body yet, vnlesse an Vrne
Be fram'd of equall vertue with my loue
To hold the ashes, which though pale, will burne
In true loues embers, where he still will moue;
And by no meanes, let my dust fall to earth,
Lest men doe enuy this my second birth,
Or learne by it to find a better state
Then I could doe for loue immaculate.
Thus here, O here's my resting place ordain'd,
Fate made it e're I was; I not complaine,
Since had I kept, I had but blisse obtain'd,
And such for loyalty I sure shall gaine.
Fame beares the torches for my last farewell
To life, but not to loue, for there I dwell,
But to that place, neglect appoints for tombe
Of all my hopes; thus Death I come, I come.