Men-Miracles With other Poemes. By M. LL. St [i.e.Martin Lluelyn] |
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Elegie. On the death of Master H. C.
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125
Elegie. On the death of Master H. C.
Were thy perfections lesse, then might thy stay
Have seen Threescore, & thou hadst gon hence gray.
Thy Ripenesse was too vigorous to be slow,
And being perfect soone, thou could'st not grow.
That flame can ne're shine fairer, ne're spread farre,
Which is at first most faire, at first a starre.
Those early Fruits provoke their fall, which bring
Ripenesse ith' Bud, and Autumne in the Spring.
The life was here exact then, though soone done,
The Patterne short indeed, but fairely spun.
As subtle Penciles draw in streights, and can
Contract their best proportions in a span.
And as ith' Globe small Points are Hills, and Land,
And slender lines for largest Rivers stand.
Have seen Threescore, & thou hadst gon hence gray.
Thy Ripenesse was too vigorous to be slow,
And being perfect soone, thou could'st not grow.
That flame can ne're shine fairer, ne're spread farre,
Which is at first most faire, at first a starre.
Those early Fruits provoke their fall, which bring
Ripenesse ith' Bud, and Autumne in the Spring.
The life was here exact then, though soone done,
The Patterne short indeed, but fairely spun.
As subtle Penciles draw in streights, and can
Contract their best proportions in a span.
And as ith' Globe small Points are Hills, and Land,
And slender lines for largest Rivers stand.
Nay though th' whole Frame but a large Ball appeare,
Yet Sages know that the whole world is there.
As Clouds of Incense 'bove the Altars come,
Yet all those Clouds lay treasur'd up ith' Gumme.
And massy Gold wrackt into Threads and Wire,
Gaines no more Weight then when it kept entire.
So was thy life, it might gaine breadth, and rise,
And purchase more Extent, but not more prise.
Good parts in Youth and Manhood are the same,
They're the same Picture in a smaller frame.
But as Beames scatter'd with lesse vigour passe,
Then when they twist their Blazes in a Glasse,
So virtue gain'd force from this Mirrour, they
Went in dimme Glaunces, but were sent forth Day,
Schooles tutor'd Manners, and he us'd Bookes so
That they might teach him live, as well know.
Twas not the Language onely he would see,
Thus Dawes are wise, and Parrats learn'd as He.
T'adore the Garbe of speech, had beene t'have staid,
To loose the Sun, while he admir'd the shade.
His aime was nobler farre, he knew there sprung
More worth in Roman virtue, then the Tongue.
Not like some Schollar who his Engine layes,
To let passe faire Example, and catch Phrase.
Warre-stories taught his Mind, not his Tongue force,
And softer lent him Mildnesse, not Discourse.
Not proud, though fate did him with Lands endow,
More then his Virgils Teeme, or Poems Plough.
Heire to more Herds of Goates, more flockes of sheepe,
Then Tityrus could, or young Alexis keepe.
No future Titles swell'd him, in his sight
The Worthy Man seem'd greater, then the Knight,
True honour he to merits chain'd, and found
Desert the Title gives, Kings but the sound.
And now his Dust growes pure, as was his mind;
For good men onely fall to be Refin'd.
Yet Sages know that the whole world is there.
As Clouds of Incense 'bove the Altars come,
Yet all those Clouds lay treasur'd up ith' Gumme.
And massy Gold wrackt into Threads and Wire,
Gaines no more Weight then when it kept entire.
So was thy life, it might gaine breadth, and rise,
And purchase more Extent, but not more prise.
127
They're the same Picture in a smaller frame.
But as Beames scatter'd with lesse vigour passe,
Then when they twist their Blazes in a Glasse,
So virtue gain'd force from this Mirrour, they
Went in dimme Glaunces, but were sent forth Day,
Schooles tutor'd Manners, and he us'd Bookes so
That they might teach him live, as well know.
Twas not the Language onely he would see,
Thus Dawes are wise, and Parrats learn'd as He.
T'adore the Garbe of speech, had beene t'have staid,
To loose the Sun, while he admir'd the shade.
His aime was nobler farre, he knew there sprung
More worth in Roman virtue, then the Tongue.
Not like some Schollar who his Engine layes,
To let passe faire Example, and catch Phrase.
Warre-stories taught his Mind, not his Tongue force,
And softer lent him Mildnesse, not Discourse.
Not proud, though fate did him with Lands endow,
More then his Virgils Teeme, or Poems Plough.
Heire to more Herds of Goates, more flockes of sheepe,
Then Tityrus could, or young Alexis keepe.
No future Titles swell'd him, in his sight
The Worthy Man seem'd greater, then the Knight,
True honour he to merits chain'd, and found
Desert the Title gives, Kings but the sound.
126
For good men onely fall to be Refin'd.
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