University of Virginia Library

To my Lady Long:

With my Poem on the Death of the Queen Enclos'd.

Madam,

Th' Enclos'd does humbly court your View,
Lines doubly happy, if approv'd by YOU.
Accept 'em for Her sake of whom they Treat,
And for Your Own, in whom like Wonders meet.
She's gone, alas! who long we hop'd wou'd Reign;
Nor cou'd w' enough condole, enough complain
Were it not some amends that You Remain.
In Youth the same your Shape, your Face and Mien,
And at Your Age she wou'd the same have been;
She only differ'd from You as a QUEEN.
Fate in Her Death by a bold Stroke does show,
Not sparing Princes, Subjects too must go:
At Peace, she now has reach'd her Native Home.
But late, Ah; late may your Removal come.

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'Tis true, like her, 'twou'd be your Gain to go;
But what wou'd then become of those below?
Where after that wou'd Vertue have Regard?
The Poor, Relief? or Poetry, Reward?