A FUNERAL ELEGY On Her ILLVSTRIOVS HIGHNESSE THE PRINCESSE ROYAL OF ORANGE, Who departed this life the 3d. of January, new stile. 1661.
MOre tragick matter yet, to make us shed
Torrents of tears, the Princess Royal dead?
She, whose great heart, like an unshaken rock
Fix'd in the floods, still brav'd the rudest shock
Of adverse fate, when Heaven was pleas'd to try
The courage of the Royal Family
By Hells incursions; and who could not be
Less then her self, when in her low'st degree;
Nor more, though seated on the proudest Throne
Upon the earth, in both estates still one?
She, who so well, when highest, could express
Her self a Lamb, when low'st, a Lioness,
If disrespected by a Prince, or State,
In Her rich mind never unfortunate?
She, whose fair soul and body both were pure,
In act and thought, whose conscience was secure,
Whose Life was Saint-like, and whose death the same,
Is gone to Heaven, from whence the substance came:
This peerless Princess, this pure Pearl is lost
To us; but found upon the happy Coast
That still is green: where gloriously She
Sitteth enthroned in Eternity,
With Her triumphant Father, Martyr King,
Brother, and Sister, which four make a ring
Of Crowned Angels, and a Hierarchy
Of Saints to praise the Highest Majesty:
Great Princes, now transform'd to a fair Star,
If from that bright Orb, where you fixed are,
You can discern this wretched mote of earth
Where mortals live, reflect on this sad birth
Of our afflictions, caus'd by your remove.
And cheer our hearts by one sweet look of love.
EPITAPH.
IF the proud Marble, Stranger, doth deny
To satisfie thy curiosity,
In thy demand what person lieth here,
I'le answer thee, 'tis one whose life was dear
To Heaven and Earth, a Princess great in blood,
Great in estate, and in her mind as good:
If th' art not pure and holy, come not near
This sacred Shrine, a Saint's entombed here,
A mirrour of perfection, a rich Mine
Of Chastity and Beauty, which doth shine
Though under earth and casts an odour forth
T'inspire all vertuous Ladies with her worth,
Let no Prophane feet then presume to tread
Near the blest reliques of this great Saint dead.
WILL. LOWER.