POEMS.
UPON THE Death of the most Honorable, THE LADY MAREHIONESS OF WINCHESTER.
By R. Graham Esq.
YORK. Printed by Alice Broad. and John White. at the Sign of the Lyon and Lamb in Stonegate. 1680.
AD Honoratissimum Dominum, Dominum Marchionem Wintoniensem, in obitum Illustrissimae Dominae Marchionissae.
Luctus Siste tuos tandem, Wintonia; Sponsam,
Non Mors, Rivalis Jupiter ipse rapit.
Inter Caelicolas titulo meliore potitur:
Dixeris Uxorem, dixerit ille Deam.
Quae (que) Comes fuerit Sociali fadere juncta
In Terra; Coelis nunc Comes esto Jovi.
AD Nobilissimas Dominas, Dominas Mariam et Elizabetham de Paulet.
Quid fletis, charae Matris cha [...]issima Proles?
Quae vixit, regnat non moritura Parens;
Et quot faeminei Sexus superabat Honore:
Tot jam Caelestes auteit illa Deas.
In caelis Honor est; induto Numine gaudens:
Divina est tandem, quae pia Mater erat.
TO THE Rt. Honorable the Earl of Wiltshire upon the Death of the Rt. Honorable the Lady Marchioness of Winchester.
WHen our Illustrious fixed Star
(Turn'd Planet first) began to err,
Leaving the North, and then her Nation
To meet with her great Constellation;
We hop'd (as all Caelestials are)
Her motion might be circular;
Or, like great Stars might disappear,
And Shine again another Year.
But she, by fatal Ordinance,
In England rose to set in France;
And from her lower Circle there
Took flight into an higher Sphaer,
That her bright Soul (by Heavens care)
In vehicle of purer Air
Might conduct have. Which Element
Er'e since (as if 'twere penitent
That it shou'd give malignant Breath,
And be found guilty of her Death)
Hath turn'd its clearness into Clouds,
And under Mourning daily shronds.
Nay France (at last) now shames to see
Its Clime with Vertu disagree;
And grievs the Heavens should devise
Their Nation thus to Tantalize.
As if they onely sent her forth,
That it might know, not have, her worth.
Her Fate in Clotho's Book was writ
In such fair Characters, that it
Was plainly read at distance by
The Art of blind Astrology,
And dim Star-light; which bid us fear
A Northern Lady's fall this Year.
As th' 'Heavens did portend her Fate:
So they her Death do celebrate:
And all their blazing Lights display;
Turning the Night to Holy-day.
Each Star's a Torch t' attend on her
Dead Hears, and gvide the Marriner.
Methinks at her Approach I see
The Brittish channel turn'd dead Sea;
Salt water beyond cours fall low,
And each proud wave forget to flow.
Great Neptune shakes his watry Head,
As if his Tethys had bene dead.
Since She is dead cease Nature hence
In one to croud all Excellence.
It makes our Loss too great; the Prize
Too rich for pale Death's Avarice;
Whose greedy Jawes hath learn'd the skill
To make Distinctions; and will
Not take his Prey on what is Least,
But what's both Greatest and the Best.
And since there is not of her Sex
One left to fall Executrix
To all her Vertues, let them be
Distributed by Legacy.
TO THE Rt. Honorable the Lady Mary, and Lady Elizabeth Paulet.
WHat greater Cure could Jove devise
To stop the flowing of our Eyes,
Then Her (for whom we wept) to shew
Now once again alive in You?
Successive Streams of Joy and Woe:
By Intervals our Hearts o'reflow.
Nay Contrarietys, we see,
May in one Subject lodged be.
For while we look, you see appear
In one eye Joy, th' other a Tear.
Since you, Great Ladys, do Survive
An happy Mother; stay, revive
Our dying Soules: Two Stars (tho' less
Yet) in Conjunction may bless.
Your Influence (methinks) doth give
Ease to our griefe, and bids us live.
By your kind Aspect we do feel
Fresh Vitals our dead Nerves to swell,
Our Hearts to move, a glowing Flame,
To kindle in our Hearts again
A new Devotion, a Hear,
That bids us once again repeat
Those Sacred Duties unto you,
Which were your Goddess Mother's due;
Or els at▪ least (if 't urge no more)
As Relicts of a Saint adore.
Leave not that fair House desolate,
Which you, when present. Consecrate
Into a Temple; where all we
Desire your Worshippers to be.
Leave not your Votarys (just when
They may be said to live again)
'Twixt joy and grief, for fear we by
Your Absence do relaps and dy.
Great Phoebus, else prolong that Night
Before those Angels take their Flight;
And, if they needs must go away,
Sleep on, forget to rise that Day
FINIS.