IDENTLINE44  F150CT1|BoulRec|Puckering R.3.12|Pp. 27-29|EWS  Original  6-24-85
150.CT1.0HE  An Elegie vpon the death of Mistress Bulstrod
150.CT1.001  Death I recant, and say, vnsaid by mee [p. 27]
150.CT1.002  What ere hath slipt that might diminish thee
150.CT1.003  Spiritual treason, Atheism 'tis to say
150.CT1.004  That any can thy summons disobay
150.CT1.005  Th'earths face is but thy table; and the meate
150.CT1.006  Plants, Cattle, Men, dish'd; for death to eate,
150.CT1.007  In a rude hunger now hee millions drawes
150.CT1.008  Into his bloudie, or plaguy, or starued iawes;
150.CT1.009  Now hee will seeme to spare, and doth more waste
150.CT1.010  Eating the best fruicts well preseru'd to laste
150.CT1.011  Now wantonly hee spoiles, and eates vs not,
150.CT1.012  But breaks of friends, & lets vs peecemeale rott:
150.CT1.013  Nor will this earth serue him, hee sinks the deepe,
150.CT1.014  Where harmeless fish monastique silence keepe.
150.CT1.015  Who (were death dead) by rows of liuing sand
150.CT1.016  Might spunge y%5t%6 element, and make it land.
150.CT1.017  Hee rounds y%5e%6 ayre, & breakes the Himique notes
150.CT1.018  In birds, heau'ns quoristers, organique throates
150.CT1.019  W%5ch%6 (if they did not dy) might seeme to bee
150.CT1.020  A tenth ranck in the heau'nly Hierarchy.
150.CT1.021  O strong, & long liu'd death, how cam'st thou in?
150.CT1.022  And how w%5th%6out creation did'st beginn?
150.CT1.023  Thou hast, and shalt see dead, before thou diest,
150.CT1.024  All the foure Monarchies, and Antichrist
150.CT1.025  Howe could I thinck thee nothing, y%5t%6 see nowe
150.CT1.026  In all this All, nothing else is but thou.
150.CT1.027  Our birthes, and life, vices, and vertues, bee [cw:wastfull]
150.CT1.028  Wastfull consumptions, & degrees of thee. [p. 28]
150.CT1.029  ffor wee to liue our bellowes were, and breath,
150.CT1.030  Nor are wee mortall, dieing, dead, but death
150.CT1.031  And though thou beest O mighty bird of praye
150.CT1.032  So much reclaym'd of God, y%5t%6 thou must lay
150.CT1.033  All that thou kill'st at his feet; yet doth hee
150.CT1.034  Reserue but fewe, & leaues the most to thee:
150.CT1.035  And of those fewe, now thou hast ouerthrowne
150.CT1.036  On whom thy blowe makes not ours, not thine owne
150.CT1.037  Shee was more stories high, hopeless to come
150.CT1.038  To her soule thou'hast offred at her lower roome,
150.CT1.039  Her soule & bodie was a king, and Court,
150.CT1.040  But thou hast both of Captaine mist, and fort,
150.CT1.041  All houses fall not though the King remoue
150.CT1.042  Bodies of Saints rest for their soules aboue;
150.CT1.043  Death getts twixt soule, and bodie such a place,
150.CT1.044  As sin insinuates twixt Iust men, and grace
150.CT1.045  Both works a seperation, noe diuorce,
150.CT1.046  Her soule is gone to vsher vp her course,
150.CT1.047  W%5ch%6 shalb'almost another soule, for there
150.CT1.048  Bodies are purer then best soules are here;
150.CT1.049  Because in her her vertues did outgoe
150.CT1.050  Her yeares; wouldst thou o%C emulous death doe soe?
150.CT1.051  And kill her young to thy losse?  must the Cost
150.CT1.052  Of beauty, and witt, apt to doe harme bee lost?
150.CT1.053  What though thou found'st her proof 'against sins of youth?
150.CT1.054  Oh, euery age a diuers sin pursueth:
150.CT1.055  Thou shouldst haue staid, and taken better hold
150.CT1.056  Shortly ambitious, Couetous when old  [cw: Shee]
150.CT1.057  Shee might haue prou'd; And such deuotion [p. 29]
150.CT1.058  Might once haue stray'd to superstition:
150.CT1.059  If all her vertues must haue growne, yet might
150.CT1.060  Aboundant vertue haue bred a prowd delight,
150.CT1.061  Had shee perseuer'd iust, there would haue growne
150.CT1.062  Some y%5t%6 would sin, mis-thincking shee did sinn,
150.CT1.063  Such as would call her friendship Loue; & faine
150.CT1.064  To sociableness a name prophane,
150.CT1.065  Or sinn by tempting, or not daring that
150.CT1.066  By wishing though they neuer told her what
150.CT1.067  Thus might'st thou haue slayn more soules, hadst thou not croste
150.CT1.068  Thy self, and to triumph thy army lost.
150.CT1.069  Yet though these wayes bee lost, thou hast left one
150.CT1.070  W%5ch%6 is immod'rate griefe that shee is gone;
150.CT1.071  But wee may scape that sinne, yet weepe as much,
150.CT1.072  Our tears are due, because wee are not such.
150.CT1.073  Some teares that knott of friends, her death must coste,
150.CT1.074  Because y%5e%6 chaine is broke though noe linke lost./
150.CT1.0SS  om
150.CT1.0$$  Even lines indented 2 spaces