University of Virginia Library

A REGISTER OF MOURNFUL VERSES.

On a Melting Beauty.

Going into a Church my Pray'rs to say,
Close by a Tomb a Mourning Beauty lay,
Her Knees on Marble Cold were Bow'd down low,
And fixt so Firm, as if She there did Grow;
Her Elbow on the Tomb did Steady stand,
Her Head hung Back, the Hind-part in her Hand;
Turning her Eyes up to the Heavens high,
Left nothing but the White of each her Eye;
Upon the Lower Shut did Hang a Tear,
Like to a Diamond Pendant in an Ear;
Her Breast was Panting Sore, as if Life meant
To seek after her Heart, which way it went;
I Standing there, observed what She did,
At last she from her Hand did raise her Head,
And Casting down her Eyes, ne're Look'd about,
Tears pull'd her Eye-lids down as they Gush'd out;
Then with a gentle Groan at last did Speak,
Her Words were Soft, her Voice sound Low and Weak:
O Heavens! (said she) O! What do you mean?
I dare not think, you Gods can have a Spleen,
And yet I find great Torments you do give,
And Creatures make in Misery to Live;
You shew us Joys, but we possess not One,
You give us Life, for Death to Feed upon:
O Cruel Death! thy Dart hath made me poor,
Thou struck'st that Heart my Life did most adore;
You Gods, delight not thus me to Torment,
But strike me Dead by this dear Monument,
And let our Ashes mix both in this Urn,
That both into one Phœnix we may turn.
Hearing her Mourn, I went to give Relief,
But Oh, alas! her Ears were stopt with Grief;
VVhen I came near, her Blood Congeal'd to Ice,
And all her Body Changed in a Trice,
That Ice strait Melted, into Tears did turn,
And through the Earths Pores got into the Urn.

On a Furious Sorrow.

Outragious Sorrow on a Grave was set,
Digging the Earth, as if she through would get;
Her Hair unty'd, loose on her Shoulders hung,
And every Hair with Tears, like Beads, was strung,
Which Tears, when they did fall with their own weight,
Then new born Tears suppli'd their places strait;
She held a Dagger, seem'd with Courage bold,
Grief bid her strike, but Fear did bid her hold;
Impatience rais'd her Voice, she Shriek'd out Shril,
VVhich Sounded like a Trumpet on a Hill;
Her Face was Flickt, like Marble streak'd with Red,
Caus'd by Grief's Vapours, flying to her Head;
Her Bosom bare, her Garments loose and wide,
And in this Posture lay by Death's Cold Side:
By chance a Man, who had a fluent Tongue,
Came Walking by, seeing her Lye along,
Pittied her sad Condition, and her Grief,
And strain'd by Rhetorick's help to give Relief;
VVhy do you Mourn, said he, and thus Complain,
Since Grief will neither Death, nor th'Gods restrain?
VVhen they at first all Creatures did Create,
They did them all to Death Predestinate;
Your Sorrow cannot alter their Decree,
Nor call back Life by your Impatiency;
Nor can the Dead from Love receive a heat,
Nor hear the Sound of Lamentations great:
For Death is Stupid, being Numb and Cold,
No Ears to hear, nor Eyes hath to behold:
Then Mourn no more, since you no help can give,
Take Pleasure in your Beauty whilst you Live;
For in the Fairest, Nature pleasure takes,
But if you Dye, then Death his Triumph makes.
At last his Words, like Keys, unlock'd her Ears,
And then she strait considers what she hears;
Pardon you Gods, (said she) my Murmu'ring crime,
My Grief shall ne're dispute your will Divine,
But in sweet Life will I take most Delight,
And so went Home with that Fond Carpet Knight.

On a Mourning Beauty.

Upon the Hill of sad Melancholy,
I did a Silent Mourning Beauty Spy,
Still as the Night, not one articulate Noise
Did once Rise up, shut close from th'Light of Joys,
Only a Wind of Sighs, which did arise
From the deep Cave, the Heart, wherein it lies;
A Veil of Sadness o're her Face was flung,
Sorrow a Mantle Black about her hung;
Her Leaning Head upon her Hand did rest,
The other Hand was laid upon the Breast;
Her Eyes did humbly Bow towards the Ground,
Their Object, th'Earth, was in her Eyes quite Drown'd;
From her soft Heart a Spring of Tears did rise,
VVhich run from the two Fountains of her Eyes,
And where those Show'rs did fall, the Flow'rs wch sprung
No Comfort gave, their Heads for Grief down hung;
Yet did the Stars shine Bright, as Tapers, by,
Shadows of Light did sit as Mourners nigh:
At last the Gods did Pity her sad Fate,
And to a Shining Comet Her Translate.

Of Sorrow's Tears.

Into the Cup of Love pour Sorrows Tears,
Where every Drop a perfect Image bears;
And Trickling down the Hill of Beauty's Cheek,
Fall on the Breast, Dive through, the Heart to seek,
Which Heart would be Burnt up with Fire of Grief,
Did not those Tears with Moisture give Relief.

An Elegy on a Widow.

VVidows, which Honour for your Husbands have,
Virtuous in Life, and Faithfull to their Grave,
Set Altars on this Hearse for Memory,
And let her Fame Live here Eternally;
Here Celebrate her Name, come, and do bring
Your Offerings, and aloud her Praises Sing;
For she was One, whom Nature strove to make
A Pattern fit, Ensample from to take.

On a Mother that Dyed for Grief of the Death of her only Daughter.

Unto this Grave let Unkind Parents turn,
And Touch these Loving Ashes in this Urn,
All the Dislike Parents in Children find,
Will Vanish quite, and be of nature Kind:
For in this Tomb such pure Love Buried lies,
None Perfect is, but what from hence doth Rise.

On a Beautifull Young Maid that Dyed, Daughter to the Grieved Mother.

You Lovers all come Mourn here and Lament
Over this Grave, and Build a Monument
For Beauty's Everlasting Memory,
The World shall never such another see;
Her Face did seem like as a Glory bright,
Nay, ev'n the Rising Sun from her took Light;
The Sun and Moon could ne're Eclips'd have been,
If e're these Planets had her Beauty seen;
Nor had this Isle been Subject to Dark Nights,
Had not Sleep shut her Eyes, and stop'd those Lights;
No Bodies could Infection take, her Breath
Did Cleanse the Air, restoring Life from Death:
But Nature finding She had been too free,
In making such a mighty Power as She,
Us'd all Industry's Powerfull Art and Skil,
And gave Death Pow'r this Body for to Kill;
For had but Nature let this Body Live,
She'd had no Work for Death, nor Fates to give.

The Funeral of Calamity.

Calamity was Laid on Sorrow's Hearse,
And Coverings had of Melancholy Verse;
Compassion, a Kind Friend, did Mourning go,
And Tears about the Corps, as Flowers, strow;
A Garland of deep Sighs by Pity made,
Upon Calamity's Sad Corps was Laid;
Bells of Complaints did Ring it to the Grave,
Poets a Monument of Fame it gave.

Upon the Funeral of my Dear Brother, Kill'd in these Unhappy Warrs.

An Elegy upon the Death of my Brother.

Dear Brother,

Thy Idea in my Mind doth lye,
And is Intomb'd in my Sad Memory,
Where every Day I to thy Shrine do go,
And offer Tears, which from mine Eyes do flow;
My Heart, the Fire, whose Flames are ever pure,
Shall on Loves Altar last, till Life endure;
My Sorrows Incense strew, of Sighs fetch'd deep,
My Thoughts do watch while thy dear Ashes sleep;
Dear, Blessed Soul, though thou art gone, yet Lives
Thy Fame on Earth, and Man thee Praises gives:
But all's too Small, for thy Heroick Mind
Was above all the Praises of Mankind.

Of the Death and Burial of Truth.

Truth in the Golden Age had Health and Strength,
But in the Silver Age grew Lean at length;
I'th' Brazen Age sore Sick Abed did lye,
And in the last hard Iron Age did Dye.
Reck'ning and Measuring both being Just,
Were her Executors, to whom she Trust,
Which did Distribute all her Goods about
To her Dear Friends, and Legacies gave out:
First Usefull Arts, the Life of Man to Ease,
Then those of Pleasure, which the Mind do please;
Distinguishments from this to that to show,
What's best to take or leave, which way to go;
Experiments to shun, or to apply,
Either for Health, or Peace, or what to fly;
And Sympathies, which do the World unite,
Which else Antipathies would Ruine quite:
This Will and Testament she left behind,
And as her Deed of Gift unto Mankind.
Mourning she gave to all her Friends to wear,
And did appoint that four her Hearse should bear;
Love at the Head did hold the Winding Sheet,
On each Side Care and Fear, Sorrow the Feet:
This Sheet at every Corner fast was Ty'd,
Made of Oblivion, Strong and very VVide;
Nat'ral Affections, all in Mourning clad,
VVent next the Hearse, with Grief Distracted, Mad,
Their Hair, their Face, their Hands, tore, scratch'd, & wrung,
And from their Eyes Fountains of Tears out-sprung;
For Truth, said they, did always with us Live,
But now she's Dead, there is no Truth to give:
After came Kings which all Good Laws did make,
And Power us'd for Truth and Virtue's sake;
Next Honour came in Garments black and long,
VVith Blubber'd Face, and down her Head she hung,
VVho wish'd to Dye, for Life was now a Pain,
Since Truth was Dead, Honour no more could Gain:
Then Lovers came with Faces Pale as Death,
With shamefac't Eyes, quick Pulse, and shortned Breath,
And in each Hand a Bleeding Heart did bring,
VVhich they into the Grave of Truth did fling;
And ever since Lovers Inconstant prove,
They more Profession give than Real Love.
Next them came Counsellours of all Degrees,
From Courts, and Countries, and from Chief Cities
Their wise Heads were a Guard, and a strong Wall,
So long as Truth did Live amongst them all:
All Sorts of Tradesmen, using not to Swear,
So long as Truth, not Oaths, Sold off their Ware.
Physicians came, not those that Try for Skil
New ways, and for Experience many Kill,
But which use Simples good, by Nature sent,
To strengthen Man, and Sickness to prevent.
Judges, and Lawyers came, not Wrangling, Base,
But which for Truth did Plead, decide each Case;
Widows, which to their Husbands kind had Swore,
That, when they Dyed, they'ld never Marry more:
At last the Clergy came, which taught Truth's way,
And how Men in Devotion ought to Pray,
Who did Mens Lives by Moral Laws direct,
Perswade to Peace, and Governours Respect;
They wept for Grief, as Prophets did fore-tell,
That all the World with Falshood would Rebell;
Faction will come, said they, and bear great Sway,
And Bribes shall all the Innocent betray;
VVithin the Church shall Controversies rise,
And Heresies shall bear away the Prize;
Instead of Peace the Priests shall Discords Preach,
And high Rebellion in their Doctrines Teach:
Then shall Men Learn the Laws for to explain,
Which Learning only serves for Lawyers gain;
For they do make, and spread them like a Net,
To catch in Clients, and their Money get:
The Laws, which Wise Men made for to keep Peace,
Serve only now for Quarrels to Increase.
All those that Sit in Honour's Stately Throne,
Are Counterfeits, not any Perfect known;
They put on Vizzards of an honest Face,
But all their Acts unworthy are, and base;
Friendship in Words and Complements shall Live,
But in the Heart not one Nights Lodging give;
Lovers shall Dye for Lust, yet Love not One,
And Virtue unregarded Sit alone.
Now Truth is Dead, no Goodness here shall Dwell,
But with Disorder make each place a Hell;
With that they all did Shriek, Lament, and Cry
To Nature, for to End their Misery;
And now this Iron Age's so Rusty grown,
That all the Hearts are turn'd to hard Flint-stone.