IDENTILIN$$ F15600E|FunEl|1650(CtY,MH)|sigs.P5-P6v,pp.217-20
156.00E.HE %1A funerall Elegy%2. [P5]
156.00E.001 'T%+Is losse to trust a Tombe with such a guest,
156.00E.002 Or to confine her in a marble chest,
156.00E.003 Alas, what's Marble, Ieat, or Prophyrie,
156.00E.004 Pris'd with the Chrysolite of either eye,
156.00E.005 Or with those Pearles, and Rubies, which she was?
156.00E.006 Ioyne the two Indies in one Tombe, 'tis glasse;
156.00E.007 And so is all to her materials,
156.00E.008 Though every inch were ten Escurials;
156.00E.009 Yet she's demolish'd: can we keep her then
156.00E.010 In works of hands, or of the wits of men?
156.00E.011 Can these memorials, ragges of paper, give
156.00E.012 Life to that name, by which name they must live?
156.00E.013 Sickly, alas, short#liv'd, Abortive be
156.00E.014 Those carcasse verses, whose soule is not she;
156.00E.015 And can she, who no longer would be she,
156.00E.016 (Being such a Tabernacle) stoop to be
156.00E.017 In paper wrapt; or when she would not lie [CW:In]
156.00E.018 In such an house, dwell in an Elegy? [P5v]
156.00E.019 But 'tis no matter; we may well allow
156.00E.020 Verse to live so long as the world will now,
156.00E.021 For her death wounded it. The world containes
156.00E.022 Princes for armes, and Counsellors for braines,
156.00E.023 Lawyers for tongues, Divines for hearts, and more,
156.00E.024 The rich for stomacks, and for backs the poore;
156.00E.025 The officers for hands, Merchants for feet,
156.00E.026 By which, remote and distant Countreys meet:
156.00E.027 But those fine spirits, which doe tune, and set
156.00E.028 This Organ, are those peeces, which beget
156.00E.029 Wonder and love; and these were shee; and shee
156.00E.030 Being spent, the world must needs decrepit be;
156.00E.031 For since death will proceed to triumph still,
156.00E.032 He can find nothing, after her, to kill,
156.00E.033 Except the world it self, so great was she.
156.00E.034 Thus brave and confident may Nature be,
156.00E.035 Death cannot give her such another blow,
156.00E.036 Because she cannot such another show.
156.00E.037 But must we say she's dead? may't not be said
156.00E.038 That as a sundred clock is peecemeale laid,
156.00E.039 Not to be lost, but by the Makers hand
156.00E.040 Repolish'd, without errour then to stand;
156.00E.041 Or as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs
156.00E.042 It selfe into the earth, and after comes
156.00E.043 (Having first made a Naturall bridge, to passe
156.00E.044 For many leagues) farre greater then it was,
156.00E.045 May't not be said, that her grave shall restore
156.00E.046 Her, greater, purer, firmer, then before?
156.00E.047 Heaven may say this, and joy in't, but can we
156.00E.048 Who live, and lack her here, this vantage see?
156.00E.049 What is't to us, alas, if there have been [CW:An]
156.00E.050 An Angel made a Throne, or Cherubin? [P6]
156.00E.051 We lose by't: and as aged men are glad
156.00E.052 Being tastlesse grown, to joy in joyes they had,
156.00E.053 So now the sick starv'd world must feed upon
156.00E.054 This joy, that we had her, who now is gon.
156.00E.055 Rejoyce then Nature, and this world, that you,
156.00E.056 Fearing the last fires hastening to subdue
156.00E.057 Your force and vigour, ere it were neare gon,
156.00E.058 Wisely bestow'd and laid it all on one;
156.00E.059 One, whose cleare body was so pure and thinne,
156.00E.060 Because it need disguise no thought within,
156.00E.061 'Twas but a through-light scarf her mind t'enroule;
156.00E.062 Or exhalation breath'd out from her Soule.
156.00E.063 One, whom all men who durst no more, admir'd:
156.00E.064 And whom, who ere had worth enough, desir'd;
156.00E.065 As when a Temple's built, Saints emulate
156.00E.066 To which of them it shall be consecrate.
156.00E.067 But, as when heaven lookes on us with new eyes,
156.00E.068 Those new starres every Artist exercise,
156.00E.069 What place they should assigne to them they doubt,
156.00E.070 Argue, and agree not, till those starres goe out:
156.00E.071 So the world studyed whose this peece should be,
156.00E.072 Till she can be no bodies else, nor she:
156.00E.073 But like a lampe of Balsamum, desir'd
156.00E.074 Rather t'adorne, then last, she soon expir'd,
156.00E.075 Cloath'd in her virgin white integritie,
156.00E.076 For marriage, though it doth not stain, doth die.
156.00E.077 To scape th'infirmities which wait upon
156.00E.078 Woman, she went away, before sh'was one;
156.00E.079 And the worlds busie noyse to overcome,
156.00E.080 Tooke so much death as serv'd for %1Opium%2;
156.00E.081 For though she could not, nor could chuse to die, [CW:Sh'ath]
156.00E.082 Sh'ath yeelded to too long an extasie: [P6v]
156.00E.083 He which not knowing her sad History,
156.00E.084 Should come to read the book of destiny,
156.00E.085 How faire, and chast, humble and high she'ad been,
156.00E.086 Much promis'd, much perform'd, at not fifteen,
156.00E.087 And measuring future things, by things before,
156.00E.088 Should turn the leafe to read, and read no more,
156.00E.089 Would think that either destiny mistooke,
156.00E.090 Or that some leaves were torne out of the booke,
156.00E.091 But 'tis not so; Fate did but usher her
156.00E.092 To years of reasons use, and then infer
156.00E.093 Her destiny to her selfe, which liberty
156.00E.094 She took, but for thus much, thus much to die,
156.00E.095 Her modesty not suffering her to be
156.00E.096 Fellow-Commissioner with Destinie,
156.00E.097 She did no more but die; if after her
156.00E.098 Any shall live, which dare true good prefer;
156.00E.099 Every such person is her delegate,
156.00E.100 T'accomplish that which should have been her Fate.
156.00E.101 They shall make up that Book, and shal have thanks
156.00E.102 Of Fate, and her, for filling up their blanks.
156.00E.103 For future vertuous deeds are Legacies,
156.00E.104 Which from the gift of her example rise;
156.00E.105 And 'tis in heav'n part of spirituall mirth,
156.00E.106 To see how well the good play her, on earth. [CW:O#F]
156.00E.SS om
156.00E.0$$ roman font, no indentation