AN ELEGIE Upon the Right Honourable The late EARL of OSSORY.
IF all perfections that accomplish Man,
With Piety and Prudence in the Van;
If generosity of Birth and Mind,
A Soul next to Divinity refin'd;
If Magnanimity by Sea and Land,
Which all force, less than Thunder, durst withstand;
If Faith to Heav'n, to Prince, to Parents, Wife,
Friends, Enemies; to all concerns but Life;
If a Kings love, who Merit well defines,
And justly on great
Ormonds Merit shines:
Might all this, with Three Nations have repriev'd
One precious Life, then
Ossory had liv'd;
Dear
Ossory? Lov'd and Admir'd by all:
But greatest things under the Sun must fall,
And Sun too, when his fatal night is come;
When Heav'ns own light shall shew the day of Doom.
His Soul seem'd (like that Sun) prepar'd and drest
For common good, shin'd to himself the least:
Pregnant in Councel, Valiant in the Field,
His Honour flexible, his Heart was Steel'd:
So clear and single was his
[...]udgments Eye,
Wise SHAFTESBURY in itt, no Mote cou'd spy,
Though Learn'd and Critical on ev'ry Theme,
Can magnifie a Mote into a Beam.
How! great and good, yet undisturbed still?
Where's then the Probate of just Vertu's Will?
Where is the Touchstone of Illustrious Actions,
Envy, that Viper of corroding Factions.
Unharm'd and quiet? both alive and dead?
'Tis strange! he had no Paralytick Head.
This was the glory of his matchless Fame,
Always to Do well, and to Hear the same.
Let
MONS preserve the Eccho of his praise,
Not to be silenc'd by an Age of days:
Where he midst flaming Swords undaunted stood,
Till Scarlet dy'd
French Lillies into Blood.
Now Bullets threaten (from all quarters hurl'd)
The consummation not of War but World:
While the bold
Britains are resolv'd to see
A Conquest of Impossibility.
When (like their Friends the
Moors) our wary French
Were lodg'd (they thought) safe in a
Daring Trench.
Safe as great
Jove, when he Granadoes throws
On Mortals, too weak to award his blows.
Yet in despight of natural Strength and Art,
Attack'd by OSSORIES brave Hand and Heart.
While the amaz'd Foe loosing Ground and Breath
Instead of fighting gaz'd themselves to Death.
Mean time Swords, Muskets, Cannon never cease,
Till they proclaim'd a good, but ill-tim'd Peace;
A Peace (may
France not envy that proud word)
Great Britain purchas'd by her Pen and Sword.
Mourn
England, mourn o're this thy broken Staff:
None (except
Moors and
French) have cause to laugh
A Life too short measur'd by Months and Years;
By Vertue older than his gravest Peers:
A short life Mathematically spent,
Like Their vast
Punctum, large without extent.
Heav'n on his Heir more numerous days advance,
To fix his Honour and Inheritance.
This fair paternal Copy if he can
Transcribe, 'twill make him more than Lord or Man
Our pious Souldier briskly parted hence,
Storm'd Heav'n (like
MONS) with holy violence
So heavenly Envoys to some Martyr sent,
With one brisk motion stem the Firmament.
Serene and free from dis-harmonious Jars,
Of untun'd Conscience or tumultuous Wars.
What if the greatness of his Spirit might
His Feaver mount to an Immortal hight?
Farewel (blest Saint) may thy Example prove
As Soverain to
England as thy Love;
When thou at Sea didst more than wonders do,
Was't civil to the
Dutch and beat them too.
Act high (great ORMOND) as You still have done
Fill up the absence of your shaded Son.
To whom is owing this Immortal pride,
Was great, yet without Envy liv'd and dy'd.
Brave LUXENBURG when You his Name do hear,
Confess his Courage, and the
English fear.
And let the Name of OSSORY be spread
Through th'Universe, to Conquer now he's dead:
To convert Heathens by his Saint like Name,
And moralize fal'n Christians by his Fame.
No wonder our great Heroe dy'd so soon,
Too bright a Star to shine below the Moon.
FINIS.
LONDON: Printed for the Author. 1680. 124.
⟨J: Crouch:⟩