ELEGY On the Death of Her Highness MARY Princess Dowager of Aurange, DAUGHTER TO CHARLES the First, King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, &c.

HAil Graceful MARY! Summon'd up to be,
A Member-Saint oth' Heavenly Hierarchie!
For since Your Virgin-Name-Sake's Peer'd with You,
Our Ave-Maries must be Doubled too.
What Zeal of Glory did Your Highness Move,
To rob Low-Countries, to Enrich th' Above?
Or was it in a Complement You fell,
To leave HENRIETTA 'thout a Parallel?
Was't not Enough, that Glouc'ster's Shining Star
Shrunk the Payr-Royal, to a Royal Payr?
And as Ambassadour (to fit Your State)
Prepar'd Your Ways, knowing the Path was strait?
But must ( O Times!) more Royal Blood be spilt,
To make Attonement, for a Kingdom's Guilt?
Curst be that * Bane of Greatness! A Disease
That Scandals Galen and Hippocrates!
So lothsome too, the Soul would hardly own
The Body at the Resurrection!
Thus the Lamb Suffers, while the Fox still thrives:
Heavens Kingdome's near; 'Tis time t' Amend our Lives.
'Tis for the Nations Sins, a Punishment
On Princes falls. They'd Live if Wee'd Repent:
Here let our Souls, flow from our Eyes in Tears!
Like Those, Whose Hopes, are Master'd by their Fears!
Another Branch, lop't from the Royal Tree,
And shall the Shrubs remain Secure and Free?
Oh! if our Earthly Gods, like Men, must lye,
How, like the Beasts that perish, shall Vassals Dye?
All Things Immortal, in this Lady were
But meer Mortality, and That lies Here!
Whose Goodness needs no Gloss to set it off,
Say but— 'Twas Charls his Daughter—That's Enough.
Oh may Her Son like Her, live to inherit
The Mothers Virtues and the Fathers Spirit!
Then will Heaven bless its Blessing with that Good
Which cannot be Express'd, less Understood.
The Wonder of Her Sex! less Great, then Good:
Honouring Her Name, Ennobled by Her Blood!
The Ages Ioy and Grief! Envy and Prìde!
You could not think Her Mortal, till She Dy'd.
In brief, be this Inscrib'd upon Her Tombe,
HERE LIES THE MIRACLE OF CHRISTENDOME!
But—Cease to Mourn!
A Princess never Dyes;
But, like the Sun, does only Set to Rise.
HEN. BOLD. Olim è N. C. Oxon.

London, Printed for Edward Husbands, and are to be sold at the Sign of the Golden Dragon in Fleet-street, 1660.

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