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Epigrams theological, philosophical, and romantick

Six books, also the Socratic Session, or the Arraignment and Conviction, of Julius Scaliger, with other Select Poems. By S. Sheppard

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An Ellegie On The Death Of My Most Deare And Reverend Father, Doctor Harman Sheppard, who Deceased Iuly 12. 1639.
  
  
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An Ellegie On The Death Of My Most Deare And Reverend Father, Doctor Harman Sheppard, who Deceased Iuly 12. 1639.

In what words shall I cloath my Verse whil'st I
(O Father) do weep out thy Ellegie?
Stab me some one that loves me, that my blood
Spouting from forth my veines, like to a flood

210

I may take thence my Ink, and so proceed
To write a line for every ounce I bleed.
Prompt me some Ghost, Melpome thy aide
Afford, O thou most sad dejected Maid,
I court thee now, as chiefest of the Nine,
And truth to say, thou onely art Divine,
And Lovely in my eyes, helpe me to moane,
Thou that for fifty slaughtered Sonnes did'st groane
Whiles thy faire City sparkled to the skies,
And thou each minute anxious of surprize,
Thy griefe as mine was most transcendent sure,
And mine with thine shall evermore endure.
What direfull Plannet, enemy to man,
Usurp'd the Hemispheare, what influence ran
O're the Earths surface, and produc'd that day
On which my Reverend Syre was snatch'd away?
Yee Fatall Sisters. whom all mortals dread,
Oh how durst you in furie cut his thread
Who was Joves darling, and whose single skill
Curb'd yron Mors, and slav'd him to his will,
While (like another Æsculapius)
He redeem'd soules destind for Erebus,
And by the working minerall alone
Gave them from death a sure redemption:
Great Paracelsus Son, he called was,
And by his skill, as strange things brought to passe,

211

He knew the motions of the Heavens, how farre
Extent Jehovah hath assign'd each starre,
Orions progresse, and the hidden cause
Makes Cynthia varie, gives Oceanus Lawes:
Sleep blessed Spirit in thy gellid urne,
All I can doe is thy great losse to mourne,
And by this deathlesse Verse to raise thy fame,
That after times may reverence thy name.

HIS EPITAPH.

Great Æsculapiu's Son here lies,
A Leech that cur'd all malladies,
A Paracelsian, and yet knew
Better then Gallen how to do,
He taught the operations
And virtues of most hearbes and stones,
The day and houre he did impart,
That Mors would strike him with his dart,

212

Three yeares before his Soule went hence,
Age layd him here, no impotence:
Grim Death, it to the soule did grieve,
His skill so many should reprieve,
Destin'd to Charons Boate, in yre
With Atropos he did conspire,
And contrary to Joves Decree,
Rob'd him of his Mortalitie,
When he had numbered ninetie yeares,
Sigh'd for with sobbs, condol'd in teares.