An alphabet of Elegiack Groans upon The truly lamented Death of that Rare Exemplar of Youthful Piety, John Fortescue ... By E. E. [i.e. Edmund Elys] |
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ELEG. VI.
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 | An alphabet of Elegiack Groans |  |
ELEG. VI.
Faith is so weak it cannot seeHis Joyes; or our perplexitie:
Oh! we have drunk in so much Gall,
That now we have no Taste at all.
Black Sorrows wrapt up in a Mist,
May whiffle us now where they list,
And (like Hob-goblins) they conspire
To lead our thoughts into the Mire
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Nought else, but that w'have lost our Mind.
But ah, what Friendship is in this;
That we do so deplore his bliss?
O tell us not of that: our Tears
Have (like their cause, his Death) no Ears.
| An alphabet of Elegiack Groans | |