AN ELEGY, [SACRED] To the Immortall MEMORY of that most Renowned, Religious, Prudent, and Victorious Commander, HENRY IRETON, Late Lord Deputy of IRELAND, &c.
There let the Thunder rowle then! And the Ayre
In startling summons to the World, declare
Heavn's righteous wrath! And be the growing Fate
Of Grief more great, 'cause inarticulate!
'Twas not unknown, his early thoughts did take
So much of glory, that he kept awake
Honour and
Justice, and revived
Fame
Bed-rid, and speechIess but for IRETONS Name;
'Twas He, whose courage warm'd her, when he stood
The
English Shield, and through a crimson Flood
To
Freedom march'd; when Death was onely seen
In showrs of Bullets to come storming in,
Untaught to cease, till Victory did rest
Her weary wings upon his plumed Crest,
The strength and safety to this State he brought,
The many Townes he won, the Fields he fought
Shall best express him, and sound alwayes forth
The Height and Heat of his unequall'd Worth,
And, making good his Tears with salter Brine,
The fiercer
Shanon with the
Thames shall joyne:
Ireland by wary Mariners eschew'd
As Saints do Altars drench'd in humane bloud,
By Him finds new Observance, and His Hand
Began the way, to expiate that Land;
So sure were all the Counsailes which he gave,
As none but IRETON could sad
IRELAND save,
And yet the Land so wild, the Ayre so ill,
That nought but
IRELAND could our IRETON kill.
What Art can reach his Verue, to set down
With how much Courage he put off the Gown
To unsheath his sword, when, like a Lion, Hee
Fought to restore the
English LIBERTIE?
And still though active, yet no
[...] Fate
Could tax his Sword as undeliberate;
For so discreet a Valour did command
His Warres, that, He being present, Fate might stand,
Or pass unknown, and we almost might be
Secure, to say, That
Providence was He;
But Truth and safe Divinitie hath taught
To give a check to th
[...] profaner thought;
For GOD was alwayes with him, He aright,
Did gidde his Heart, and taught his Hands to fight,
So that in all his Warres there did appeare
No fight of wrong, nor any sense of Feare;
But in a perfect harmony 'twas showne,
The Saint and Souldier could be both in one;
And his brave Army did so strictly live,
After the great Examples he did give,
That forreign Nations might with wonder see
How well Religion did with Armes agree;
And now those Warres expiring, and the high
And joyfull sound of Union drawing nigh,
After he Truth and Freedom did restore
To Earth, He, finding he could do no more,
To Heav'n ascended: where He first is seen
Next to his God, an armed Cherubin.
HIS EPITAPH.
Why weep you here? and take this Stone to be
In vain the Prison of Eternitie?
Let your translated Pietie
and Love,
Look high and joyfull on the roomes above,
In those great IRETON
lives, the Heav'ns enshrine,
And court his glorious soul, which now doth shine
More bright by Death: Yet weep! for yet this Tombe
Holds Natures chiefest Treasurer: would you come,
And all Perfections in one Volume see,
Here every Dust
would make a Historie,
Which he that looks on, and not spares a groan,
Adds but more marble to His Buriall-Stone.
FINIS.
LONDON, Printed by J.C. and T.W. 1652. 30.