A Consolatory Poem Humbly Address'd TO Her ROYAL HIGHNESS.
UPON The much Lamented DEATH OF His Most Illustrious HIGHNESS, WILLIAM, Duke of Glocester.
By Dr. Gibbs.
LONDON, Printed for John Hartley, over-against Grays-Inn in Holborn, and Sold by John Nutt near Stationer' s-Hall, 1700.
A Consolatory Poem Humbly Address'd TO Her ROYAL HIGHNESS.
IF e're Harmonious Numbers can dispense
To Wounded Minds a Healing Influence:
If Grief, the reigning Passion in our Breast,
Can thus be sooth'd, or mod'rately supprest:
You, the most Skilful of the Sacred Train,
Come, and Unite in one Harmonious Strain:
[Page 2] With Powerful Charms your flowing Numbers fill,
A
Mourning PRINCESS now demands your Skill:
Condoling You the Royal Grief may share,
Or with your Tuneful Song divert her Care.
But vain's th'Attempt, I fear, to bring Relief,
'Tis hard to stop so Great, so Just a Grief:
If by this Means kind Heav'n ordain'd a Cure
For the sad Ills and Sorrows we endure,
Thro' all the Land should the Rich Cordial go,
And be as Universal as our Woe.
But we in vain would in this Art excell,
We hardly can our own Affliction tell,
And how can
Harmony with such
Confusion dwell!
But tho', Great Princess! our Endeavors fail,
Your own
Illustrious Vertues may prevail,
Just Heav'n already has approv'd the rest,
Your
Patience now stands the severest Test:
[Page 3] But Noblest Minds the Greatest Ills can bear,
And You in Calm Submission persevere:
Thus your Perfections, tho' for
Empire fit,
To Heav'ns Decrees encline You to
submit.
Then let the softer Passions be confin'd
To their just Bounds by
Fortitude of
Mind:
Think not on what so lately You have lost,
The
Hopeful Prince, Three Nations once could boast:
When so much Danger in your Grief we view,
How can we bear to mourn for
Him and
You!
Affect not then Your Sorrows to renew.
Reflect not on the Dismal Scene of Woe,
What Pains the God-like Youth did undergo:
For
His Disease kind Heav'ns ordain'd so strong,
Impatient
They or
He should suffer long.
Strive not to recollect each Charming Grace,
That once adorn'd his Beauteous Heav'nly Face,
[Page 4] And what a young Heroic Air did shine
In all his Actions and his Form Divine.
Remember not how gratefull still did seem
Your own Lov'd Vertues copy'd out in
Him;
Such were the great Perfections of his Mind,
His Reason Strong, and yet his Temper Kind,
That here soft
Love with
Majesty combin'd.
But if you can't these fixt Ideas quit,
(For who can such Endearments e're forget!)
Tho' hence remov'd, lament him not, as lost:
Just Heav'n has all those Vertues now engrost.
And since they were to such Perfection grown,
Prevents the
future with a
Brighter Crown;
Unwilling they for their Reward should wait,
Which both deserve and fit th' Angelic State:
Not Flames with surer Instinct upward tend,
Than all Perfections do to Heav'n ascend.
And here caress'd by the
Coelestial Choir,
What
Joys do his
Immortal Breast inspire!
With Dawning Beams does the new Saint arise,
And with fresh Glory
Heav'n it self surprize:
His God-like
Ancestours descending meet
The
Beauteous Youth, and their lov'd
Offspring greet;
Then with Officious care they lead him on,
Thro' Realms of Bliss, to his appointed Throne:
The Heav'nly Courtiers view their
welcome Guest,
And own their
Joys and
Number both encreast.
And thus,
Great Princess, moderate your Sighs,
Tho' the Delightful Object of Your Eyes
From
Earth retires, in
Heav'n Your pious Mind
Him, where You most converse, will always find.
Thus when the
Patriarch did News receive,
That his Lamented Son was yet alive,
And that he was advanc'd to high Command,
And Regal Honours in a Foreign Land;
[Page 6] Supported thus, he did His Absence bear,
In hopes to see him, and his Glory share.
But how shall
We our raging Griefs compose,
And with what Hopes allay our present Woes!
Since no Relief from
Earth or
Heav'n appears,
To calm our
Sighs, and stop a Nations
Tears▪
In vain we all in one Affliction
joyn,
Which, tho' united thus, we can't sustain;
For like the
Soul, which now we feel opprest,
'Tis all in
All, and all in
every Breast.
Vast and Important is the mighty Weight
Of Earthly Kingdoms, and infirm the State;
How apt to fall! and still expos'd a Prey
To
Foreign Force, or
Homebred Treachery!
How hard 'tis to assert the Publick Cause,
And from the Lawless guard the
Sacred Laws!
And yet secure did we our selves presume,
Pleas'd with a Prospect of the Times to come:
But since the
Rising Sun withdraws his
Light,
We fear Confusion and approaching
Night.
How is our Universal Comfort fled!
Our
Hopes are lost, a
Future Monarch dead;
And (if Propitious Heav'n had so decreed,)
How justly might he
reign, how worthily
succeed!
But, O
Illustrious Princess! how our
Fears
And
Griefs increase, to see your
Royal Tears!
For when the pleasant
Streams no longer flow,
We for Relief, must to the
Fountain go.
And tho' we dread some
future Ills to bear,
Those,
while You live, nor
You, nor
We can fear.
And why shou'd
You or
We so much despair?
Heav'n kindly promises another Heir,
Which
You, the
Country's Parent, yet shall bear.
Whose Gift resum'd we now so much deplore,
To recompense our
Loss has
Blessings yet in store.
O, may they on Your
Royal Head descend!
And to th'
Afflicted Nations thence extend:
That a New Race of
Princes yet unborn
May Your Great Line
continue and
adorn,
Who always may the
Vacant Throne supply,
And guard us from approaching
Anarchy.
THE END.