The springs glorie vindicating love by temperance against the tenent, Sine Cerere & Baccho friget Venus. Moralized in a Maske. With other Poems, Epigrams, Elegies, and Epithalamiums of the Authors Thomas Nabbes |
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An Elegie on the death of the hopefull
Mr.
William Roberts, aged 11.
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 | The springs glorie |  |
An Elegie on the death of the hopefull Mr. William Roberts, aged 11.
Sonne to the Worshipfull Nicholas Roberts Esquire.
What subject hath Death brought for my sad MuseTo practise art, and sorrow on? to use
(Her lightsome layes, & spritefull ayres lay'd by)
Some mixture of Cromatick harmonie:
'Tis a sad subject, and requires each tone
And cadence to be finisht in a groane.
Words such as we from griefe can onely heare,
Strayning the heart-strings that restraine them there,
'Tis a sad subject now, that living might
Have beene an equall object of delight
With any one that fancy could devise
To please the inward, or the outward eyes.
A youth in whose sweet face each grace did dwell,
As if there were their Acidalian well:
And that they left Boetias cooling streames
To warme their naked beauties in his beames.
A youth whose colours, symetrie and eye
Made up a forme to paint a Cupid by.
Yet ('gainst the tenent) Natures livelier part
Should still excell the workmanship of art.
A youth whose fayre and glorious mind became
The Mansion of all vertues that have name.
And by his inclination did expresse
More age in's youth, then manyes age possesse.
But now Deaths ashye hand hath chang'd the hew
Of those bright cheekes where Roses lately grew:
In spight of Fate more conquerour then he.
Come Libitina then; deck thy sad browes
With wreathes of funerall Yough, and Cypresse boughes.
Command thy flaming altars to be drest
With spice stolne from a dying Phenix nest.
Let every teare that falls upon his urne
Into a Pearle (and that most orient) turne,
'Till they have rais'd a pile, whose costly frame
May make forgotten Mausoleums name.
But why should empty wishes thus be spent?
His corpes enough enrich his monument.
And the long sacred clay is hallowed more
By holding of his reliques, then before.
You then whom nature, or respects doe tye
T'expresse affection by the outward eye
Weepe not for's losse so much, since it hath given
A shrine more to the earth, a Saint to heaven.
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