But we may 'scape that sin, yet weep as much;
Our tears are due, because we are not such. **
Some tears, that knot of friends, her death must cost,
Because the chain is broke, tho' no link lost.

ELEGY ON MRS. BOULSTRED.

174

DEATH! be nct proud; thy hand gave not this blow; Sin was her captive, whence thy power doth flow; The executioner of wrath thou art,

But to destroy the just is not thy part.

Thy coming terror, anguish, grief, denounces;
Her happy state courage, ease, joy, pronounces.
From out the crystal palace of her breast
The clearer soul was call'd to endless rest,

(Not by the thund'ring voice wherewith God threats,
But as with crowned saints in heav'n he treats)
And, waited on by angels, home was brought,
To joy that it thro' many dangers sought:
The key of mercy gently did unlock

The door twixt heav'n and it when life did knock.
Nor boast the fairest frame was made thy prey,
Because to mortal eyes it did decay;

A better witness than thou art assures,
That tho' dissolv'd it yet a space endures;
No dram thereof shall want, or loss sustain,
When her best soul inhabits it again, -1.

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Go then to people curst before they were,
Their souls in triumph to thy conquest bear.
Glory not thou thyself in these hot tears,
Which our face not for her, but our harm, wears.
The mourning livery giv'n by Grace, not thee,
Which wills our souls in these streams wash'dshould be,
And on our hearts, her memory's best tomb,
In this her epitaph doth write thy doom.

Blind were those eyes saw not how bright did shine,
Thro' flesh's misty vail, those beams divine;
Deaf were the ears not charm'd with that sweet sound
Which did i' the spirit's instructed voice abound;
Of flint the conscience did not yield and melt
At what in her last act it saw and felt.

Weep not, nor grudge, then, to have lost her sight.
Taught thus our after-stay's but a short night;
But by all souls not by corruption choak'd,
Let in high rais'd notes that pow'r be invok'd,
Calm the rough seas by which she sails to rest,
From sorrows here t' a kingdom ever blest ;
And teach this hymn of her with joy, and sing,
"The Grave no conquest gets, Death hath no sting."

ELEGY ON HIS MISTRESS.

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40

By our first strange and fatal interview,
By all desires which thereof did ensue ;

Kij.

Donne.]

By our long-striving hopes; by that remorse
Which my words' masculine persuasive force
Begot in thee, and by the memory

Of hurts which spies and rivals threaten'd me,
I calmly beg: but by thy father's wrath,
By all pains which want and divorcement hath,
I conjure thee, and all the caths which I
And thou have sworn to seal joint constancy,
I here unswear, and overswear them thus;
Thou shalt not love by means so dangerous,
Temper, O fair Love! love's impetuous rage;
Be my true mistress, not my feigned page.
I'll go, and, by thy kind leave, leave behind
Thee, only worthy to nurse in my mind
Thirst to come back. O! if thou die before,
My soul from other lands to thee shall soar:
Thy (else almighty) beauty cannot move

Rage from the seas, nor thy love teach them love, zá
Nor tame wild Boreas' harshness: thou hast read
How roughly he in pieces shivered

Fair Orithea, whom he swore he lov'd.

Fall it or good, tis madness to have prov'd
Dangers unurg'd: feed on this flattery,
That absent lovers, one in th' other be.
Dissemble nothing, not a boy, nor change
Thy body's habit nor mind: be not strange
To thyself only; all will spy in thy face
A blushing womanly discovering grace,

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Richly cloath'd apes are called apes; and as soon
Eclips'd as bright we call the moon the moon.
Men of France changeable cameleons,
'Spittles of diseases, shops of fashions,
Love's fuellers, and the rightest company
Of players which upon the world's stage be,
Will too too quickly know thee: and, alas!
Th' indifferent Italian, as we pass
His warm land, well content to think thee page,
Will hunt thee with such lust and hideous rage
As Lot's fair guests were vext: but none of these,
Nor spungy' hydroptic Dutch, shall thee displease
If thou stay here. O! stay here! for for thee
England is only a worthy gallery

To walk in expectation, till from thence
Our greatest King call thee to his presence.
When I am gone dream me some happiness,
Nor let thy looks our long hid love confess;
Nor praise nor dispraise me; nor bless nor curse
Openly Love's force; nor in bed fright thy nurse
With midnight's startings, crying out, Oh! oh!
Nurse. oh! my love is slain! I saw him go
O'er the white Alps alone; I saw him, 1,
Assail'd, taken, fight, stabb'd, bleed, fall, and die.
Augur me better chance, except dread Jovesci

Think it enough for me to have had thy love.

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ON HIMSELF..

My fortune and my choice this custom break,
When we are speechless grown to make stones speak;
Tho' no stone tell thee what I was, yet thou
In my grave's inside seest what thou art now
Yet thou 'rt not yet so good; till death us lay
To ripe and mellow, here we 're stubborn clay.
Parents make us earth, and souls dignify-
Us to be glass; here to grow gold we lie.
Whilst in our souls sin bred and pamper'd is,
Our souls become worm-eaten carcasses;
So we ourselves miraculously destroy,
Here bodies with less miracle enjoy
Such privileges, enabled here to scale

Heav'n, when the trumpet's air hall them exhale.
Hear this, and mend thyself, and thou mend'st me,
By making me, being dead, do good for thee;

And think me well compos'd, that I could now
A last-sick hour to syllables allow.

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ELEGY.

TH

MADAM,

HAT I might make your cabinet my tomb, And for my fame, which I love next my soul, Next to my soul provide the happiest room, Admit to that place this last funeral scrow!,