A nursery of novelties in Variety of Poetry Planted for the delightful leisures of Nobility and Ingenuity. Composed by Tho. Jordan |
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| Elegies and Epitaphs of two sorts, woful and witty. |
 | A nursery of novelties in Variety of Poetry |  |
68
Elegies and Epitaphs of two sorts, woful and witty.
An Elegy and Epitaph composed acrostichally on two names occasioned by the Death of Mrs. Mary Kettle, Wife to Mr. Humphrey Kettle of Hollow-way beyond Islington; she dyed in Childe-bed.
Hang all the Rooms with Black, let none appear
Unless he can dissolve into a tear,
Modesty, Loyalty, and Love are all
Put in this Coffin, 'tis their Funeral
Heaven hath took more good then 'twill (I fear)
Return the world again these hundred year:
Every Grace that makes a happy life
You might have found in this dead vertuous Wife,
Unless he can dissolve into a tear,
Modesty, Loyalty, and Love are all
Put in this Coffin, 'tis their Funeral
Heaven hath took more good then 'twill (I fear)
Return the world again these hundred year:
Every Grace that makes a happy life
You might have found in this dead vertuous Wife,
Knowledge and true Humility were met
Exactly in this curious Cabinet;
Truth was her guide, for she (wee'l boldly say)
Travell'd from Hollow-way the Holy way:
Let all therefore that wish their own souls safe
Endeavour to deserve her Epitaph.
Exactly in this curious Cabinet;
Truth was her guide, for she (wee'l boldly say)
Travell'd from Hollow-way the Holy way:
Let all therefore that wish their own souls safe
Endeavour to deserve her Epitaph.
69
The Epitaph on her Name.
Mourn good Reader, here lies one
As chaste in life as this cold stone;
Religion, Grace, and so much good
Yet ne're dwelt in flesh and blood.
As chaste in life as this cold stone;
Religion, Grace, and so much good
Yet ne're dwelt in flesh and blood.
Kinde as Saints, no sweeter Bride
Ever blest a Husband's side,
That in Childe-bed sheet was driven
To be truly Church't in Heaven,
Led by Angels, where the King
Eternal Crowns the Gossipping.
Ever blest a Husband's side,
That in Childe-bed sheet was driven
To be truly Church't in Heaven,
Led by Angels, where the King
Eternal Crowns the Gossipping.
71
An Epitaph on a Childe.
Ladies that are young and wise
Shall I tell you of a prize,
Here a box of beauty lies.
Shall I tell you of a prize,
Here a box of beauty lies.
A Jewel hid from vulgar view,
Whose excellency if you knew,
Your eyes would drop like morning dew.
Whose excellency if you knew,
Your eyes would drop like morning dew.
Dame Nature's Diamond which when
She saw it was too high for men,
Shew'd it, and shut it up agen.
She saw it was too high for men,
Shew'd it, and shut it up agen.
72
An Epitaph supposed to be written by a Gentleman on himself, who dyed of a Disease, called by the name of a Bad Wife.
Nay tread and spare not Passenger,
My sence is now past feeling,
Who to my grave a wound did bear
Within, past Physicks healing.
My sence is now past feeling,
Who to my grave a wound did bear
Within, past Physicks healing.
But do not (if thou be to wed)
To read my story tarry,
Lest thou creep into my cold bed
rather then live to marry.
To read my story tarry,
Lest thou creep into my cold bed
rather then live to marry.
For a long strife with a leud wife
Worst of all ill beside,
Made me grow weary of my life,
So I fell sick and dyed.
Worst of all ill beside,
Made me grow weary of my life,
So I fell sick and dyed.
An end of the Elegies and Epitaphs.
| A nursery of novelties in Variety of Poetry | |