MERCVRIVS AQVATICVS;
OR, THE VVATER-POETS ANSWER TO ALL THAT
hath or shall be Writ by MERCVRIVS BRITANICUS.
Ex omni ligno non fit Mercurius.
An Elegie on Master Pym.
No immature or sullen Fate
Did his immortall soul translate,
He passed gravely hence even
Kept the old pace, from earth to heaven;
He had a soule did alwaies stand
Open for businesse, like his hand,
He took in so much, I could call
Him more then individuall,
And so much businesse waited by,
Would scarcely giue him leaue to dye;
He knew the bounds, and every thing
Betwixt the people and the King;
He could the just Proportions draw
Betwixt Prerogative and Law;
He liv'd a Patriot here so late,
He knew each syllable of State
That had our Charters all been gone,
In him we had them every one;
He durst be good, and at that time
When innocence was halfe a crime;
He had seen death before he went,
Once had it as a token sent:
He surfeted on State affaires,
Di'd on a Plurisie of cares,
Nor doth he now his mourners lacke,
We have few soules but go in blacke,
And for his sake have now put on
A solemne Meditation.
Teares are too narrow drops for him,
And private sighes, too strait for Pym;
None can compleatly Pym lament,
But something like a Parliament,
The publike sorrow of a State,
Is but a griefe commensurate,
We must enacted passions have,
And Lawes for weeping at his grave.
