IDENTLINE$$ F150O20|BoulRec|Eng. poet. e.99, Dowden|ff. 26-7v|Original EWS 7-30-85 150.O20.0HE Elegye on M%5rs%6 Boulstred. 150.O20.001 Death, I recant, and say, Vnsayd by mee, [f. 26] 150.O20.002 What ere hath slipt, that might deminish Thee. 150.O20.003 Spirituall Treason, Atheisme %Yit%Z t'is to say, 150.O20.004 That any can thy Summons disobay. 150.O20.005 Th'Earths face is but thy Table; There are sett 150.O20.006 Plants, Cattell, Men, Dishes for Death to eate. 150.O20.007 In a rude hunger, now he millions drawes 150.O20.008 Into hys bloody, or Plaguy, or sterued iawes. 150.O20.009 Now he will seeme to spare, and doth more wast 150.O20.010 Eating the best first, well preseru'd to last. 150.O20.011 Now wantonly he spoyles, and eates vs not 150.O20.012 But breakes of frindes, and letts vs peecemeale rott. 150.O20.013 Nor will thys Earth serue him: Hee sinckes the Deepe 150.O20.014 Where harmelesse fish Monastique silence keepe, 150.O20.015 Who (weare Death dead) by Roes of living Sand 150.O20.016 Might spunge that Element, and make y%5t%6 Land. 150.O20.017 He roundes the Ayre, and breakes the Himnique notes [f. 26v] 150.O20.018 In Birds, Heauens choristers, Organique throates. 150.O20.019 W%5ch%6, (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee 150.O20.020 A tenth rancke in the Heauenly Hierarchye. 150.O20.021 O strong, and long=liu'd Death, how camst thou In? 150.O20.022 And how w%5th%6out Creation didst beginne? 150.O20.023 Thou hast, and shalt see dead, before thou Dyest 150.O20.024 All the foure Monarchyes, and Antychrist. 150.O20.025 How cold I thincke Thee nothing, that see now 150.O20.026 In all thys All, Nothing else is, but Thou. 150.O20.027 Our Birthes, and Lyfe, Vices, and Vertues bee 150.O20.028 Wastfull consumptions, and Degrees of Thee. 150.O20.029 For wee, to liue, our bellowes weare, and breath, 150.O20.030 Nor are wee mortall, Dying, Dead, but Death. 150.O20.031 And though thou beest O mighty Bird of Praye 150.O20.032 So much reclaym'd by God, that thou must lay 150.O20.033 All that thou killst at hys feete, yett doth hee 150.O20.034 Reserve but fewe, and leaues the Most to Thee. 150.O20.035 And of those fewe; now Thou hast ouerthrowne 150.O20.036 One whom thy blowe, makes not ours, nor thyne owne. 150.O20.037 She was more Storyes high. Hopelesse to come 150.O20.038 To'her Soule, thou hast offred at her lower roome. 150.O20.039 Her Soule and body was a King and Court, 150.O20.040 But thou hast both of Captayne mist and fort. 150.O20.041 As houses fall not, though the King remoue 150.O20.042 Bodyes of Saints, rest for theyre Soules aboue. 150.O20.043 Death getts t'wixt Soules and Bodyes, such a Place [f. 27] 150.O20.044 As Sinne Insinuates t'wixt Iust me%M and Grace. 150.O20.045 Both workes a Separatione, no Diuorce, 150.O20.046 Her Soule is gon to vsher vp her Corse. 150.O20.047 W%5ch%6 shallbe almost another Soule, for there 150.O20.048 Bodyes are purer, then best Soules are here. 150.O20.049 Because in her, her Virtues did outgoe 150.O20.050 Her yeares, woldst Thou, O Emulous Death, doe so? 150.O20.051 And kill her yonge to thy losse? Must the Cost 150.O20.052 Of Beauty, and Witt apt to doe harme, bee lost? 150.O20.053 What though thou foundst her Proofe gainst Sinns of youth? 150.O20.054 Oh euery Age a diuers Sinne pursueth. 150.O20.055 Thou sholdst haue stayde, and taken better holde, 150.O20.056 Shortly ambitious, Couetous, when Olde 150.O20.057 She might haue prou'd. And such Deuotion 150.O20.058 Might once haue stray'd to Superstition. 150.O20.059 Yf all her Vertues must haue growen, yett might 150.O20.060 Abundant Vertue haue bred a proud delight. 150.O20.061 Had She perseuerd Iust, there wold haue bin 150.O20.062 Some that wolde sinne, mis-thincking She did Sin. 150.O20.063 Such as wold call her frendship, Loue, and fayne 150.O20.064 To Socyablenes, a name profane. 150.O20.065 Or Sinne, by tempting, or not daring that, 150.O20.066 By wishing, though they neuer told her what. 150.O20.067 Thus mightst Thou haue slayne more Soules, hadst thou not crost 150.O20.068 Thy selfe, and to Tryumph, thyne Armye lost. 150.O20.069 Yett though these wayes bee lost, thou hast left One 150.O20.070 W%5ch%6 ys, Immoderate Griefe, that She is gone. 150.O20.071 But wee may scape that Sinne, yett weepe as much, 150.O20.072 Our Teares are due, because wee are not such. 150.O20.073 Some Teares, that knott of frindes, her death must Cost 150.O20.074 Because the Chayne is broke, but no lincke lost. 150.O20.0SS "291" in pencil 150.O20.$$ Even lines indented 3 spaces. "Funll. p. 253", nonscribal next to heading.