Elegies offer'd up to the memory of William Glover Esquire, late of Shalston, in Bukinghamshire. By Thomas Philipot |
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Elegie 2. |
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 | Elegies |  |
Elegie 2.
VVe can for every cheape and triviall losseCondole so much we even se me t'ingrosse
3
Imbezell our exhausted faculties,
Whilst our dull passions pant with eager throes,
As if they teem'd with mountaines of vast woes.
Each maime by fire, each shipwrack can induce
Our soules to such intemp'rate and profuse
Resentment, that those Cataracts of Raine
Our eyes diffuse might quench the flame againe,
Or in their briny Hurrican's once more,
Ingulph the ruin'd Barke upon the shore.
But when a friend shakes off Mortalitie
And his fraile Earth drops into ashes, we
Should from th'officious limbecks of our eyes
Distill, as rites due to his obsequies,
Such floods of pious teares that if dull Art,
Should by some lame neglect forget t'impart
Her nard and unctious Balsames to exempt,
His pretious Reliques from Times rude contempt,
They might embalme his fading masse of clay,
And fortifie it so from all decay
It may remaine till time shall die, and have
Himselfe a Habitation in his grave.
Should I then now my melting eyes repreive
From teares, or be too thrifty in my griefe,
When he (to whom my soule was so endeard,
So twisted into his, that we e'en steerd
Two bodies with one Heart, and did improve
By mingling of each others thoughts that love)
Is disinvested of that drosse and Earth,
Which did empeach and intercept his birth
To immortality, I then should be
Tainted with scandalous Apostasie
To Friendships sacred vow, and should enter
My short-breath'd love within his Sepulcher.
No! such a permanency I'le enstate
On my Affection that neither Fate
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Yet I'le not to his memory bequeath
Some brazen Obeliske whereon shall bee
Engrafted some patheticke Elegie,
Which may to a succeeding Age declare
What a strong emphasis my griefes did beare,
Because the Cottage of his clay so soone
Languish'd into a Dissolution:
For 'twould be triviall since his name alone,
Will prove more firme than either brasse or stone.
Yet I'le not deprædate the Phœnix nest,
Or pillage the Exchequer of the East
To gather Balmes or odorous spices thence,
By whose benigne indulgent influence
The ruines of the Earth may be so charm'd,
They may 'gainst all th'Assaults of time be arm'd:
For the kind Earth shall from her wombe distill,
Drops of rich gumme mixt with a fragrant drill
Of balmy dew, which shall descend upon
His dust, and baile it from Corruption,
So that no bold intruding worme shall dare
To be an Inmate to his Sepulcher.
Nor will I to embellish and adorne
The gloomy Climate of his private Urne,
Rifle the Parian Quarries, and erect
Some gaudy Pile his ashes to protect:
Since that like these will weare away and rust
And mingle both in undistinguish't dust.
No, from the Inlets of mine eyes I'le lave
Streames of unsummond teares out on his grave
Which shall agen concentrate and collect
Themselves into a swelling Cataract,
Which shall by th'coldnesse that my sighs shall vent,
Congeale into a Christiall Monument;
And stand a trophee there to propagate,
His memory 'gainst all th'attempts of Fate.
5
And both lye gasping in the generall fire,
When God will cancell Times Commission
And call in Fatēs strict Patent, when the Sun
And all the throng and petty stars like teares
Shall drop in flaming Gelly from their Sphers,
When th' impenitēnt Earth so long shall burne,
Till it into repentant ashes turne;
And each conspicuous Ornament it wearēs
Fals into dust; this shall resolve to teares.
| Elegies | |