University of Virginia Library

On the deceased Authour, Master Thomas Beedom, and his Poems.

Reader it grieves mee that I cannot bring,
A fresh Encomion, but am forc't to sing,
A withered Elegie, and onely boast,
The wealth and treasure of a friend that's lost.
Beedom, I doe admire thy verse; The sweet,
And gentle cadence of their ordered feet,
Whose couplets kisse, with so divine an Art,
As if the Sibills had about thy heart,
Layd their propheticke Spells, and every line,
Deare Beedom, I doe season with my brine,
Though there was salt enough in them before,
To keepe thy bayes still fresh: But I deplore,
As others doe, for there thy Art is showen,
In stealing pitty thus from every one.
For unlesse tribute of some sighs are paid,
Thy jealous Lover, and thy constant Maid,
Cannot be read, and these all sadly vie,
As true oblations, to thy obsequie.
But when I wander in thy other walkes,
And see the flowers of poesie on their stalkes,
Florish in pride of fancy, I beginne,
Almost to thinke Idolatry no sinne.
For such a perfume breakes the yeelding Ayre,
I am urg'd to offer for thy soule a prayer,
And thinke in that sweet incense, may arise,
My love, and wishes, as a sacrifice.
Thou'lt gaine a strange advantage of thy fate,
That's forc't to valew thee at equall rate,
With the sole Phenix; for from thy pure dust,
Thy fame takes wing, and perching on the trust
Of thy firme friend, (though round with envy hurl'd)
Dares with a broad eye looke upon the world,
He being best knowne Beedom, to thy wit
Thou wisely mad'st executor to it.
Who not defrauding of the world its due,
Presents thy worke unto the wiser few.
Me thinkes I heare from thy most gratefull clay,
Soft murmurs breake, and speaking seeme to say,
Thanks my deare Wilbore, for thy love and care.
By this my Genius clames an ample share,
For by the Elixir of thy friendly art,
My memory, (which is my better part)
Shall live, which ages hence shall gladly see,
Wrought by the wonder of Loves chimistrie.
And such a Tombe Beedom, thy friend will make,
That all consuming time can never shake,
Let others build, I by that friend am sent,
To bring this first stone to his Monument.