A Funeral Eclogue Sacred to the Memory of Her Most Serene MAJESTY. Our Late Gracious Queen MARY: Who departed this LIFE at KINSINGTON: On Friday the 28th of December 1694.
LONDON, Printed for John Whitlock, near Sationers-Hall, MDCXCV.
A Funeral Eclogue Sacred to the Memory of Her Most Serene MAJESTY, &c.
Celadon, Thyrsis.
AS the sad
Celadon retir'd of late,
Full charg'd with Sorrow for
Maria's fate,
Into an obscure Grotto—
Remote from Heav'n, and Man's obscure sight,
Secret as Love, and private as the Night,
All Gloomy as his Thoughts it seem'd to be,
For Melancholly Thoughts covet privacy.
As he fat Pensive on the grassy Bed,
His naked Arm sustain'd his down-cast Head.
And his neglected Pipe hung silent by,
Forgetting all it's wonted Harmony.
Whilst little Rivulets of Tears did rise,
From th' inte
[...]hausted fountains of his Eyes.
When
Thyrsis hidden in a Thicket by,
Heard the dejected Shepherds Elegy,
Heard him unload the Sorrows of his Breast,
Sorrow's! with great reluctancy expres'
[...].
CELADON.
Aetherial Powers! how unconcern'd you keep
Affairs below? or is great Jove a sleep?
Lethargic Heavens! how, how can you alone
In this great Cresis be bare lookers on?
As if some usual Common thing was done.
Strange and amazing! that no mighty fl
[...]w
Should
[...] fundamental Law;
In Providen
[...] no
[...] was found,
All things went on in their accustom'd round.
No black Eclipse, no Monarch-threatning Star
Presag'd the death of our Illustrious Fair.
No
[...]
[...] an unexpected Be
[...]uge rise.
But what flow'd from our
[...] own imploring Eyes,
Heav'n alwaies us'd in some prodigious way,
To signifie a Monarch's fatal day.
Nature for lesser persons has exprest,
Her Grief by various Throes—
But this surprizingly
[...]'re
[...] her Breast.
At such an
[...]
Nature is dumb, does into Marble grow.
Thus shallow Fords a murmuring noise do love,
Whilst deeper VVaters with dumb silence move.
How rigid are the Laws of stubh
[...]
[...]?
That thus the Good, the
[...] Great
That thus the most Serene, and most August
Shou'd undistinguish'd s
[...]eep with Common Dust.
Too high! Poor Mortals! we too
[...] high!
Suffer'd alas! our Mounting hopes to fly.
From prudent
Mariana's pious Care,
VVhat joys so great did we not hope to
[...]?
VVhat happiness did we expect to see;
From her well managed Aconomy?
But ah! the blossoms of our hopes so Gay,
Appear'd, and promis'd fruit, but did decay▪
Promis'd so fair, gone so abruptly soon▪
'Tis just as if the Sun should set at Noon.
You of that Sex that would be wondrous fair,
Exceeding beautious as the Angels
[...]
Leave, leave your flattering Glasses all
[...]
And hast to dress you by
Maria's Tomb:
VVithin the Marble Mirror look, and see,
Veiw well how short the greatest Glories be.
[...] on the Beauties of Her Heaven-born-Soul,
Think well, and then Admire, and then Condole.
With Sorrow think; when to the Grave you go,
How little must be said in Praise of you,
Since all that is call'd Virtuous was her due,
Sometimes in Books and History we find,
A faint resemblance of her God-like Mind,
Perhaps a Good, a Great, a Generous Soul we see,
But still less Good, less Great, less Generous than she,
For she of Virtues Catalogue was the Epitome
My Thoughts start back, and fly, as well they may,
The sad remembrance of that Doleful Day,
When round the Bed the griev'd Physitians stood,
And saw their utmost Skill could do no good,
Saw their Art baffled by Triumphant Death;
Saw how she strugled for a little Breath.
And now Her Heroe first was seen to fear,
Tho' arm'd with greatest Patience, can't forbear,
A Loss so Universal to Condole;
Emasculating Sighs, unhing'd his Valiant Soul.
But hark! How ev'ry Angel, ev'ry Sphaere,
Fill all around the Circumambient
[...],
With Heavenly Music, and with Heavenly Layes,
With joyful Songs of Love, and Songs of Praise.
How do th' Officious Angels crowd the Milky Way,
To gaze on one as White, as Pure as they.
Choirs of Laureat-Saints around her fly!
Entring the Regions of Serenity,
The blest Inhabitants above ne're knew a greater Jubile.
THYRSIS Discovering himself.
Shepherd! Weep on—Nor shal't thou Weep alone;
A General Loss, requires a General Grone.
Thus long I've kept my strugling Passions down,
Strove against Nature too; but can't forbear
To pay the Royal Herse a Tributary Tear.
Take me thy Partner in thy Mighty Grief,
Grief! Which admits no medium of Relief.
Say ye learn'd World, what Monument shall I raise
On well wrought Pillars of Immortal Verse?
Bright as
Maria's Worth, and fadeless as her praise.
Fain would I something worthy Her rehearse,
But ah! My Muse fears th'
Icarian Fate,
Flags her dull Wings, and thinks the Flight too great.
Too great a Task t'advance her blooming Praise,
Too great to lessen, and too great to raise;
He who with equal Numbers can proclaim,
The Great
Marias never fading Name,
Shall stand next her in the Records of Fame.
O! That I could adapted Words express?
And my vast Thoughts in equal Measures dress?
I'd make the Grief as publick as the Loss.
I'd tell the fatal News from Pole to Pole,
"
Where Winds can carry, or where Waves can roul▪
O! That I could do this—
[...] 'tis a Task
Will the Assertion of some
Dryden ask,
But I'll begin—Since there's no
Dryden near.
Thus in the absence of the Sun, the lesser Stars appear.
The Vine doth grace the Trees, the Grapes the Vine,
So thou
Maria graced'st all that's Thine.
But since of Fair
Maria were here
[...],
Pales and
Ph
[...]bus have our Mountains left.
Weep, ye
Nereids, weep your Fountains dry,
And let the thirsty Plants for want of moi
[...]
[...] edie.
Then let the Sea the fatal Tidings hear,
The Sea! whose every drop, whose every
[...] Tear,
Is too too small to express our Grief and Care.
VVitness you Fountains how oft she hath stood,
Viewing her self in your transparent Flood,
But you with Melancholy noise would glide along
Slowly—as if you knew she'd soon be gone.
The Trees with hang'd down Heads do seem to grieve,
As if they too her Absence did perceive.
And all the Fields in Mourning now are hung,
And every Shepherds Lute now lies unstrung.
The naked Fields are silent as the Grave,
Neglected Pipes hang up in ev'ry Cave.
Since she who taguht us how to Sing and Love,
Augments the Number of the Blest above.
The Cooing
Stockdove now, and
Philomel,
To Thorns and Hedges both their Sorrows tell.
[...] when the Nymph was present every Plant did rear
Their joyful Heads, and smil'd as well as her.
And Shepherds with their smoothest, gentlest Lays,
Did rival one another in her Praise.
The Woods put on their greenest Livery,
And Od'rous Smells exhal'd from every Tree.
But ah! No more (that Killing word, No more)
Shall we the Fair
Maria's worth adore.
She's gone—She's gone—
Yet her Idea's treasur'd in my Breast,
There let it pure and uncorrupted rest.
Sooner shall Oxen Plow the Liquid Main,
Sooner shall Ships Sail thro the Grassy Plain.
Sooner shall all things out of order run,
Into their primitive Confusion.
The Center of the Earth shall sooner shake,
And Trees their fixt Foundations shall forsake.
Than I forgetful of
Maria prove,
Who was all Admiration, Joy, and Love.
The dispers'd Glories of her Beauteous Sex
In her combin'd, did all in her Commix.
She was as gay, and sprightly as the Grove,
Strait as the Arrows of the God of Love;
Serene and modest as the Rising Morn,
Harmless as is the new sprung Infant-Corn.
Her Thoughts were soft and easie as the Air,
And yet more constant than a fixed Star.
She added lustre to the Crown she wore,
Rich in its Gemms, but she adorn'd it more.
Say, say ye mighty Dead if ought you know,
VVhat's acted on this Mundane Stage below,
If there be any Spirit can make reply,
To us that Live, concerning those that Die:
Speak—Doth her Body in the Grave create
Vermin, and feel the mouldring Laws of Fate?
I could believe, (as 'tis but almost just)
It lies intire, and blossoms in the Dust.
Methinks Corruption and the VVorms should spare,
The Heavenly Temple of a Soul so fair.
If my Zeal should transport me so away,
Pardon, Blest Virgin, if to Her I Pray—
If I to Her should
Ave Maries say,
The coming Age, I fear, wou'd Ido
[...]e,
And as her Merits, so her Reliques prize.
Scarce had we dry'd our Eyes for that Great He,
VVhose Graces did adorn the Reverend See.
But lo! Inexorable Cruel Fate,
Remov'd the mighty Pillar of the State.
By these two great Examples we may see,
The State goes Hand in Hand with Piety.
If one does flourish, th' other too does Live,
And if one falls the other can't Survive.
He went before her to prepare the VVay,
And warn th' Inhabitants above, least they
(Like us at her departure) unprovided be,
For her Arrival to Felicity.
But lest Malicious Men should think that I
Flatter the World, and do Mankind deceive
With an Encomium not an Elegy,
Or at least think I do but vainly grieve,
May Jove
with pointed Thunder strike me De
[...]d,
And darted Vengeance from above, transfix my Head.
If I don't think her Loyal, Just, and True,
The Best of Wives, and Best of Women too,
Nay all that is, (or can be) said, is less than is her Due.
FINIS.