University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Lady-Errant

A Tragi-Comedy
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Vpon the Author's decease, and Poems.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

expand section1. 
expand section2. 
expand section3. 
expand section4. 
expand section5. 

  


Vpon the Author's decease, and Poems.

'Tis treason to thy dust, to praise thy name,
(Immortall Cartvvright) whose unwieldy fame
No single hand can graspe; since he that wou'd
Speak thee aright, and shew how great, how good,
Should be himself as much as thou or more,
He that would well describe, had need stand o'r.
Wert thou not dead, I hardly should suppose
The Wits could be so disingenuous
Each individually to erect
On his own strength, a single Architect
To thy Undying Name, since 'tis a task
Would take a Synthesis of Wits, and ask
An universall Genius, all glory
That's less than that, is but derogatory.
I'll only bless our Fates, that do derive
Thy Soul to us in that which does survive;
And thereby made us Competent to sit
Tenants in Tayl to Poetry and Wit.
Thus when at last th' unmated Phænix dyes,
Out of his Ashes does a second rise,
The toylsome silk-worm thus, when labour's done
Dissolves her self into an only Son:
The difference is, those produce single things,
But from thine Issue a whole Myriad springs,
To populate the world; and make us be
Wits by a Lineall Genealogy.
So 'tis decreed, spite of Fatality
Poets, like Kings, shall never, nor can dye.
Alexander Brome.