Classic Poem

BEATISSIMIS MANIBUS CARISSIMI VIRI ILLUSTRISSIMA CONJUX SIC PARENTAVIT .

When in the brazen leaves of Fame
The life, the death of Buckingham
Shall be recorded, if Truth's hand
Incise the story of our land,
Posterity shall see a fair
Structure, by the studious care
Of two kings raised, that no less
Their wisdom than their power express.
By blinded zeal, (whose doubtful light
Made murder's scarlet robe seem white;
Whose vain-deluding phantoms charm'd
A clouded sullen soul, and arm'd
A desperate hand, thirsty of blood,)
Torn from the fair earth where it stood,
So the majestic fabric fell.
His actions let our annals tell;
We write no chronicle; this pile
Wears only sorrow's face and style,
Which even the envy that did wait
Upon his flourishing estate,
Turn'd to soft pity of his death,
Now pays his hearse: but that cheap breath
Shall not blow here, nor th' unpure brine
Puddle those streams that bathe this shrine.
These are the pious obsequies
Dropp'd from his chaste wife's pregnant eyes
In frequent showers, and were alone
By her congealing sighs made stone,
On which the carver did bestow
These forms and characters of woe:
So he the fashion only lent,
Whilst she wept all this monument.