Classic Poem

ELEGIE.

How dul's my Faith ! 'twould pusle my belief
That there could be room left on earth for grief,
Did not the Worlds great Genius seem to powre
Its very eyes out in a plenteous showre,
As if it meant its moysture should create
Another Deluge, spight of pow'rfull Fate.
The Stars are mournfull grown, and do conspire
With unaccustom'd tears to quench their fire.
The Sun himselfe looks heavie, and puts on
(In spight of Light) a sad privation,
Since Noble PORTLAND'S fall, whose glorious breath
Was too too precious to bee stolne by Death.
Grim Tyrant hold thy hand, if thou'lt imploy
Thy unresisted Shafts, let them destroy
Only those petty subjects, whom their Fate
Never produc'd for Pillars of the State ;
The Kingdome well may spare them, and their losse
Would rather be a blessing than a crosse.
There's multitudes that only seek to bee
The ends, not raisers of their Familie,
To whom thy Darts (their Patrimony spent)
Would be most welcome Cures of Discontent.
Ambitious Furie ! 'Tis thy only aime
To vanquish those same true born sons of Fame
That rise by noble merit ; such was hee
To whom my Muse does pay this El├®gie .
He who though plac'd in Honors highest seat
Striv'd rather to be counted Good than Great.
Into whose Essence (all conceiv'd) that State
Did its own soule even transubstantiate :
Such were his Counsels, so supremely wife,
They alwaies conquerd where they did advise.
His Judgement too so strong, and so mature,
What ere it promis'd, seem'd to be secure :
Yet 'twas with such a moderation mixt,
That as on Law, so 'twas on Conscience fixt.
All's actions were so even, they nere did force
The great mans Envie, nor the poor mans Curse.
Such was his Life, so temperate and just,
It nere knew Malice, nor commerc'd with Lust.
What suddain trance surrounds me ? what extreme
Passion confines my senses to a Dreame ?
I feele a lazie humour slowly creep
Over my Fancie, charming it to sleep,
Or rather, that (entranc'd) it might supply
Great PORTLAND'S Herse with a fit Elegie.
Now a Poetick furie brings mee on
To mount to Fames eternall Mansion,
Where upon Marble Seats I did behold
Those glorious Worthies so renound of old
For prudent Counsels, who were held the health,
The very life and soule o' th' Common-wealth.
There the mellifluous Cicero did shine
Bright with the spoiles of vanquish'd Cataline ;
And as his Motto, ore his Throne there hung,
Arms yeeld to Arts ; let swords give place to th' Tongue.
There Roman Fabius sate, who wrought the fall
(By his delays) of Punick Hannibal .
'Mongst other sorraigne Statesmen, there appears
Those of our Nation, who for many years
Did in ambiguous Fortunes frown and smile
Uphold the Fate and Glory of this Isle.
There that great Marshall Pembroke did sustaine
The reeling Pillars of third Henries Raigne,
And [did] of this our English heaven advance
Himselfe the Atlas 'gainst invading France .
(After a numerous Companie) in his Pall,
And other holy Robes, Fame did install
Illustrious Morton , that compos'd the Jarre
Betwixt the House of York and Lancaster .
There Sackvile, Cecill, Egerton , were plac'd,
On whom as I stood gazing, Fame in hast
Approaching, did command them to prepare
For PORTLAND'S welcome to that Theater
Of ever-living Honour ; and to mee,
Goe sing (quoth shee) this Worthies Elegie .
Straight (as the Muses Priest) I did obey
And 'gan to touch my Instrument, when they
Leaving their Thrones, with an unanimous voice
Welcom'd the Sage Lord, and did give him choice
Which Seat he would accept ; but modest hee,
Repaid their Courtesie with Courtesie,
Till Fame herself installd him, and did give
His merit this Inscription, which shall live
As his great Name, unraz'd : Here PORTLAND lies ,
That was as truly Iust as hee was wife ;
Cautious, yet full of Councell ; Mild, yet free
From seeking idle Popularitie :
To Good men gentle, to the Bad severe ;
Lov'd Vertue for its selfe, and not for Feare.

This Fame inscrib'd and this shall deck his Herse,
While there is Time, or memorie of Verse.