IDENTILIN$$ F146H07|Sorrow|Harvard MS Eng 966.6(Stephens)|pp.130-31 146.H07.0HE Elegia Tereia. [130] 146.H07.001 Sorrow, who to this howse scarse knew y%5e%6 way 146.H07.002 Is oh! Heire of it: Our all is his pray 146.H07.003 This strange Chance claimes strang wonde%5r%6 & to vs 146.H07.004 Nothing can be so strange as to weepe thus, 146.H07.005 Tis well his Lives- loud- speaking works deserue 146.H07.006 And give praise too, o%5r%6 could toungs cold not serve 146.H07.007 Tis well he kept tears from o%5r%6 Eyes before 146.H07.008 That to fill this deepe ill he might haue store. 146.H07.009 Oh if A sweet Brier, Clymbe vp by A Tree 146.H07.010 If to A Paradice that Transplanted bee 146.H07.011 Or fel'd, and burnt for holy sacrifise 146.H07.012 Yet that must wither w%5ch%6 by it did rise, 146.H07.013 So we for him dead though no family 146.H07.014 Ere rig'd A Sowle for Heavens Discovery 146.H07.015 W%5th%6 whom Adventure%5rs%6 more boldly dare 146.H07.016 Venture their states w%5th%s6im in Joy to share 146.H07.017 We louse, what all freinds Lov'd him, he gains now 146.H07.018 But life by Death, w%5ch%6 worst Foes wold Allowe 146.H07 019 If he cold have Foes, in whose practize Grew 146.H07.020 All Vertues whose Names Subtile Schooleme%M knew 146.H07.021 What Ease can hope that we should see him begett 146.H07.022 When we must dye first, and cannot dye yett. 146.H07.023 His Children are his Pictures oh! They bee 146.H07.024 Pictures, of him dead, senceles, cold as hee. 146.H07.025 Heere needs no Marble Tombe since he is gone 146.H07.026 Hee, and about him, his, are turn'd to Stone. 146.H07.0SS finis 146.H07.0$$