 | Poems &c. By James Shirley |  |
Upon the death of G. M.
I lov'd him, and I lost him too, then why
Should others weep their farewel, and not I?
If souls know more by being body free,
He'l know from all the rest, these drops from me.
Then flow apace, I see where store of rain
Is met, and swoln it self into a Main,
Go lose your selves in that, it cannot be
In vain, to add some water to the Sea,
Since heaven, whose glorious Constellations are
So many, hath yet took another Star.
Should others weep their farewel, and not I?
If souls know more by being body free,
He'l know from all the rest, these drops from me.
Then flow apace, I see where store of rain
Is met, and swoln it self into a Main,
Go lose your selves in that, it cannot be
In vain, to add some water to the Sea,
Since heaven, whose glorious Constellations are
So many, hath yet took another Star.
If any think my grief has but a face
Of mourning, and my tears a common place.
Be judg your selves, that know what 'tis to leave
A friend, then wisely teach me how to grieve:
Be judge you that did want him, while he liv'd,
But more now, since he then your lives repriv'd,
Forfeit to miseries, and let me know
What height and method you'l prescribe your wo!
Be judge that were companions of his wit,
And knew with what wise Art he manag'd it.
When Natures darling bleeds, who can be found
Whose heart would not drop balme into the wound?
Last be you Judges, who best teach the way,
And steer our erring souls to heaven, then say
How much Divinity is gone, and by
Your grief Ile learn to write his Elegie.
Of mourning, and my tears a common place.
Be judg your selves, that know what 'tis to leave
A friend, then wisely teach me how to grieve:
Be judge you that did want him, while he liv'd,
But more now, since he then your lives repriv'd,
Forfeit to miseries, and let me know
What height and method you'l prescribe your wo!
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And knew with what wise Art he manag'd it.
When Natures darling bleeds, who can be found
Whose heart would not drop balme into the wound?
Last be you Judges, who best teach the way,
And steer our erring souls to heaven, then say
How much Divinity is gone, and by
Your grief Ile learn to write his Elegie.
| Poems &c. By James Shirley | |