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Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In perfect diapason, whilst they stood
In first obedience, and their state of good.
O may we soon again renew that song,
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To his celestial consort us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light.
AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF
This rich marble doth inter
The honour'd wife of Winchester,
A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Besides what her virtues fair
Added to her noble birth,
More than she could own from earth.
Summers three times eight save one
She had told; alas too soon,
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness, and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and Fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life.
20 nature's chime] Jonson's Epithal. vol. vii. 2.
"To do their offices in nature's chime. Warton.
Her high birth, and her graces sweet
Quickly found a lover meet;
The virgin quire for her request
The God that sits at marriage feast ;
He at their invoking came,
But with a scarce well-lighted flame;
And in his garland as he stood,
Ye might discern a cyprus bud.
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,
And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throes ;
But whether by mischance or blame
Atropos for Lucina came;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree:
The hapless babe before his birth
Had burial, yet not laid in earth,
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb.
So have I seen some tender slip,
Sav'd with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train,
19 He] See Ov. Metam. X. 4.
• Adfuit ille quidem : sed nec solennia verba,
Nec lætos vultus, nec felix attulit omen :
Fax quoque, quam tenuit, lacrymoso stridula fumo,
Usque fuit, nullosque invenit motibus ignes. Joriin. 33 womb] Browne's Brit. Past. b. ii. s. 1. ed. 1616.
• Where never plowshare ript his mother's wombe
To give an aged seede a living tombe.' Todd.
Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flow'r
from vernal show'r;
But the fair blossom hangs the head
Side-ways, as on a dying bed,
And those pearls of dew she wears
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the sad morn had let fall
On her hastening funeral.
Gentle Lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have;
After this thy travail sore
Sweet rest seize thee evermore,
That to give the world increase,
Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease.
Here, besides the sorrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon,
And some flowers, and some bays,
For thy hearse, to strew the ways,
Sent thee from the banks of Came,
Devoted to thy virtuous name;
Whilst thou, bright Saint, high sitt’st in glory,
Next her, much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdess,
Who after years of barrenness,
47 Lady] Cyınbeline, act iv. sc. 2.
Quiet consummation have,
and renowned be thy grave !' Warton.
The highly favour'd Joseph bore
To him that serv'd for her before,
And at her next birth much like thee
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing Majesty and Light:
There with thee, new welcome Saint,
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No Marchioness, but now a Queen.
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ;
Of the bright morning star.' Hen. More's Poems,
1 harbinger] Shakesp. Mids, N. Dream, act iii. sc. ult.
And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger.' Warton. ? dancing] Spenser's F. Q. i. v. 2.
• At last the golden oriental gate
Of greatest heaven gan to open faire ;
And Phoebus fresh as bridgroome to his mate,
Came dancing forth, shaking his dewy hair.'
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
AN EPITAPH ON THE ADMIRABLE DRAMATIC
POET W. SHAKESPEARE.*
What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd
bones, The labour of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid Under a star-y-pointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a live-long monument. For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring art Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart Hath from the leaves of thy unyalued book
10 welcome] Chaucer's Knight's Tale, ver. 1511.
O Maye! with all thy floures and thy grene,
Right welcome be thou, fair freshe May.' Todd. * These lines were prefixed to the folio ed. of Shakespeare's Plays in 1632, but without Milton's name or initials. It is, therefore, the first of his pieces that was published. Warton. 11 invalued] Invaluable. Rich. III. act i. sc. 4.
• Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, Todd.