Poems or, A Miscellany of Sonnets, Satyrs, Drollery, Panegyricks, Elegies, &c. At the Instance, and Request of Several Friends, Times, and Occasions, Composed; and now at their command Collected, and Committed to the Press. By the Author, M. Stevenson |
 |
To my Honoured Friend Mr. J. W. Student in Lincolns Inne, Upon the Death of his dear Wife Mrs. A. W.
|
 | Poems |  |
20
To my Honoured Friend Mr. J. W. Student in Lincolns Inne, Upon the Death of his dear Wife Mrs. A. W.
Congratulate I cannot, nor complain,
My Theme is equal, as to loss, or gain;
True, a dear Wife, yet not of her bereaven,
Where wou'd you lay up treasure, but in Heaven?
Thus half in Heaven, and half on Earth you are;
You keep possession here, She has it there.
Nor is she dead, though Earth her earth stil keep,
Sinners are said to dye, but Saints to sleep.
No, she now only lives and tryumphs, where
Her Workhouse, like her Works must follow her.
My Theme is equal, as to loss, or gain;
True, a dear Wife, yet not of her bereaven,
Where wou'd you lay up treasure, but in Heaven?
Thus half in Heaven, and half on Earth you are;
You keep possession here, She has it there.
Nor is she dead, though Earth her earth stil keep,
Sinners are said to dye, but Saints to sleep.
No, she now only lives and tryumphs, where
Her Workhouse, like her Works must follow her.
This may within your sorrows Circle fall,
You want a Copie of th' Original:
We can't deny it; and that this is true,
More are to mourning Legacy'd than you;
Her Soul was not, though Body, thus bereft
For wanting Issue, she Example left.
To which she may for a Memorial trust,
When Marble, and Posterity are dust,
What if her Womb were in her wishes crost?
Where there's no Labour, there's no labour lost.
For my part, I think who can scape without,
Those pains and perils, need not to cry out.
Some that her harmless Life knew, gather thence
She scap'd the curse and dy'd in Innocence.
And, though no Mother, yet a hopeful Bride:
She liv'd an Angel, and a Phænix dy'd.
Sure Overbury prophecy'd her Life,
Or he had been to seek for a good Wife.
You want a Copie of th' Original:
We can't deny it; and that this is true,
More are to mourning Legacy'd than you;
Her Soul was not, though Body, thus bereft
For wanting Issue, she Example left.
To which she may for a Memorial trust,
When Marble, and Posterity are dust,
21
Where there's no Labour, there's no labour lost.
For my part, I think who can scape without,
Those pains and perils, need not to cry out.
Some that her harmless Life knew, gather thence
She scap'd the curse and dy'd in Innocence.
And, though no Mother, yet a hopeful Bride:
She liv'd an Angel, and a Phænix dy'd.
Sure Overbury prophecy'd her Life,
Or he had been to seek for a good Wife.
| Poems | |