AN ELEGY ON THE DEATH Of the HONOURABLE Mr. ROBERT BOYLE.
Eheu! fugaces, Posthume, Posthume,
Labuntur anni: nec pietas moram
Rugis & instanti senectae
Afferet, indomitaeque Morti.
Ergo Quintilium perpetuus sopor
Urget? cui Pudor, & Justitiae soror
Incorrupta Fides, nudaque Veritas,
Quando ullum invenient parem?
Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit:
Nulli flebilior quam mihi. Horat. Od.
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD, MDCXCII.
TO My Much Esteem'd Friend, T.N. Esq
YOU have exacted the severest Test
In sending me so mournful a Request,
That I should on this doleful Matter write,
And like his Noctiluca shine by Night:
If copious Grief like Rage might make a Verse,
I can lament, but can't adorn his Herse.
Parnassus now nothing but Cypress wears,
If Aganippe flowes it must with Tears:
My trembling Muse cannot the Task perform,
But droops like Turtles batter'd by a Storm,
Who are surpris'd before they shelter get,
She cannot fly when both her Wings are wet:
My Sorrow now above its source doth rise,
Before I write I must discharge my Eyes.
This faint Attempt on others may prevail,
In Prose to finish where my Verse must fail;
The best Historian of our British Isle
Might here employ the Beauties of his Stile;
Now an Illustrious Subject he hath got,
Greater than all the painful Plutarch wrote:
He rais'd our Reformation from the Dust,
Clear'd it from Calumnies of Wrath and Lust;
He shew'd that purer Motives did provoke
Our Ancestors to break the Romish Yoke,
And Records justify'd each Word he spoke:
Then he did skilfully his Portraite draw,
Who living was the Oracle of Law;
With strict Integrity did himself demean,
His Heart was honest, and his Hands were clean:
He with a righteous poise did hold the Scales,
And his Name answer'd to the Balance, Hales;
That fruitful Monosyllable implies
All that is Learned, or Devout, or Wise:
Until a fuller Payment in doth come
Accept this small and tributary Summ:
Sure there's a strong Contagion in the Air,
'Tis not an Age our Losses can repair.
Syd nam did first unto the Stroke submit
With all his Judgment, Elegance and Wit;
Nothing he knew did peevishly with-hold,
But with ingenuous Honesty he told;
He had a Roman Gallantry of Mind,
He was a Benefactor to Mankind:
Each peccant Humor freely did chastise,
And without Fees doth all the World advise:
He rescu'd us from that familiar Curse,
To be with Cordials stifl'd by a Nurse;
Their choaking Houshold-methods did defeat,
Oppos'd his Cold to their excess of Heat;
And those his temperate Regimen did save,
Who otherwise were destin'd to the Grave:
This nauseous Foe both Sexes doth infest,
But of fair Lineaments a dreadful pest;
Unto the Ladies chiefly is unkind,
And barbarous marks of Triumph leaves behind.
Then Lower Dy'd who had so many heal'd,
The Muscle he so well describ'd did yield;
As Blood in it's swift sallies from the Heart
Doth convey Nourishment to every part,
So those two Qualities in his Stile you meet,
It is as Florid and it flowes as Sweet;
But now the Fortress doth demolish'd ly,
And the wet Ditch about it is drawn dry.
And now Great BOYLE is ravisht from our side,
A purer Sacrifice ne're the Altar dy'd;
All prosperous Omens in his Life did shine,
But from his Entrails we can none divine:
Let Death her trifling Questions now discuss,
And cut down all the Shrubs in Libanus;
Our stock of Funeral Sorrow now is spent,
We ha'nt one Drop their ruine to lament;
A Tree of the first Eminence he stood,
He shaded and protected all the Wood:
Here persecuted Birds did shelter gain,
The Boughs were spreading, delicate the Grain.
Painters when vers'd in their ingenuous Art
Acquire their Fame from drawing each his part;
One limns the drousy sweetness of the Eyes,
Where with the Original the Copy vies:
Another finely doth the Colours spread,
And mixeth up the charming White and Red;
One with a jolly roundness plumps the Hip,
And swells the pouting, male-contented Lip;
Another, he in Drapery is bold,
Makes Garments with a loose and easy fold:
But he is justly celebrated Great,
Who all the Features can with Skill compleat.
But here the Task more difficult we find,
To draw the Landskipt of so vast a Mind;
For here his Soul with just Grandeur doth rise,
And there in low Humility it lies;
Emergent Notions constantly did spring,
And still fresh Seeds did loaded Harvests bring:
There you a Prospect had with full delight,
And only Heaven did terminate your sight;
A liquid Chrystal there her Waters shows,
Just so his Eloquence like a River flows;
With a strong, limpid Current it did smile,
Convey'd Fertility like the pregnant Nile;
Nothing of Barrenness could e're be seen,
But a Succession still of verdant Green.
Ripe Fruit from hopeful Blossoms early sprung,
To gain Experience he Travell'd young;
Lik'd theirs, but reverenc'd his Native Tongue:
Did not his Strength on Forreign Vices wast,
Modest in France, in Italy was Chast.
Tho' now the Modish Traveller doth please,
If he brings home a more refin'd Disease;
Can tell the Tennis-Courts, and all the Mesles
How many Leagues from Paris to Versailles;
What Point's in Fashion, what Amours are New,
What Marquess last to Madam prov'd untrue.
BOYLE learn'd their Customes, Polity & Laws,
Had their Accomplishments without their Flaws;
No Ribaldry did offend the tender Ear,
A Vestal Virgin his Discourse might hear;
Each Word he utter'd had a Grain of Salt,
And rigid Cato could not find a Fault.
As Wine ferments tumultuous in the Must,
This is the first incitement unto Lust;
Our Eyes and Ears are the sly Avenues
Which make the Sacred Monastry a Stews;
Then feign'd Romances and lascivious Plays
The Flame unto a higher pitch do raise:
Here Phantasms thro a Labyrinth you pursue,
The Turns are dangerous, and false the Clue;
The Muse that was but moderately Clean,
The Mask pull'd off is on the Stage Obscene:
And now each dawbing Pencil Venus draws,
Naked she Courts the Theatre's applause;
In such luxurious shapes She doth entice,
Men do not dread, but are in love with Vice:
We into things forbidden quickly rush,
When once we've overcome the Maiden Blush.
To Revelation he his Reason brought,
Altho in other things he freely thought;
The mistick Lock doth disappoint the Key,
But where he could not open did Obey:
If busy doubts did Sceptically rise,
He either stop'd or Conquer'd the surprise:
Did each Opinion very finely searse,
The Sun did all the Mists it rais'd, disperse:
The Church of England chiefly did applaud,
Who to assert her needs no pious Fraud;
She doth not hallow wax, nor Christen Bells,
Nor is supported with false Miracles:
Is not severe with Axes, or the Rod,
Nor on a Wafer stamps an Infant God;
It doth not legendary Stories tell,
Lies 'cording to your Faith, and Purse they sell:
She doth not think that when her Members Dy,
In Culinary Embers they must Fry;
'Tis not sufficient here to have the Cross,
But there the fire must purify the Dross.
So they in Egypt milk-white Eggs do take,
And make the brooding Hens their Nests forsake;
They a more genial Warmth on them bestow,
For Incubation is a Process slow;
Where the sharp Artist wearies out his Eyes
To make his gradual discoveries;
How the Artificer doth knit each joynt,
The Cicatricula and Salient Point:
But here of Living Flesh they draw a Batch,
For they in Ovens all their Chicken Hatch;
So when the Catholick Soul releasment begs,
Which is the Offspring of unhappy Eggs,
After the payment of her Spiritual Host,
She is let loose to go to Heaven to Roost.
He in his Censures could not cruel be,
To those who did in Trivials disagree;
'Tis want of tender Bowels, and our Pride,
We'd save our selves, and damn the world beside:
Nor Guelph, nor Gibeline upon him did fall,
He like to Atticus was belov'd by all;
Tho' they in several parties did Combine,
Yet in Admiring him they all did join.
A numerous Poor subsisted by his Bread,
And were with daily Distributions fed;
Objects of private Pity he did choose,
But obvious Ones in streets could not refuse;
He after those did anxiously enquire,
Who ruin'd were by Shipwrack, or by Fire;
Or those who were Consum'd with Age and Pain,
And yet a competent Substance could not gain;
A secret Moth their Fortune undermines,
Their hopes blown up, abortive their designs.
He was the Comforter of modest grief,
He gave, and did solicit their Relief;
Not the least Blemish did his Morals taint,
Liv'd a Philosopher, and Dy'd a Saint.
The World's a System of great Villany,
He with regret did all their Vices see,
But from Appearances himself was free;
Did not Revenge under a Smile conceal,
Nor did he call extravagant Passion, Zeal:
He with a liberal humour would rejoice,
And yet he was Abstemious out of choice;
But his Austerities did not Sour his Blood,
Was very Sociable, yet strictly Good.
All for Instruction did to him resort,
The Learned did his Correspondence court,
And they enjoy'd the freedome of the Port;
They carry'd rich Commodities away,
Which with great Interest recompenc'd their stay;
Attention they did not in vain consume,
Gold did Enrich, and Spices did Perfume:
He to all Tempers did his Genius fit,
His Labour's Solid, and his Mirth was Wit;
He did digest the Books he did devour,
He spent not one unprofitable hour;
Either he as a Chymist did Refine,
Or read the Scriptures like a good Divine,
And scarce one Moment past without a Line:
Of Commentators he fil'd off the rust,
And every Translation would not trust;
He with the Surface would not be content,
But with a Plummet to the Bottome went;
His wonted Diligence he did apply,
To learn a Language that was harsh and dry;
Tho a rough Guide did lead him by the hand,
It did conduct him to the promis'd Land,
Where Nature her delicious Fruits hath stor'd,
A single Grape a Vintage doth afford:
His generous Courtesy was always such,
He thought he never could Oblige too much.
He to all Ranks did meekly condescend,
'Twas his Civility that made him bend;
Tho' Sickness without Truce a War did wage,
He still prop'd up the Ruins of his Age,
And that he shun'd so long the fatal Dart,
It was his greatest Specimen of Art;
In spight of Years he kept himself upright,
Till the Weight falling on him crush'd him quite.
He did perform what others only boast,
And each Experiment did refund its Cost;
The shining Pillar of his Chymick Flame,
To our erroneous Minds a Guide became,
Which through the Desart did point out our way,
And us thro' intricate Errors did convey;
Aquinas like his Title was not bright,
And Scotus was involv'd in Mystick Night,
Both made Crepuscular, and doubtful Light;
They hunted one another in a Wood,
Quarrel'd for that which neither understood;
You Paracelsus Insolence can't endure,
He pompous was, and Helmont is obscure;
We are with barbarous Remedies o're-run,
Essence of Stars, and Tincture of the Sun;
A Rosicrucian Secrets doth pursue,
He fails because his ground-work is not true,
To immense Summs he blindly doth Aspire,
Offers his Children to the Molock Fire;
He drowns their cries with noise of fancy'd Gold,
Like heaps of Usury by the Bankers told;
And when that the phantastick Web is spun,
He finds himself and Family undone.
BOYLE's Thoughts on what was useful still were spent,
Nothing that was Destructive did Invent;
His Days and watchful Nights he did employ,
Mankind to Benefit, and not Destroy:
Like to the dismal Fryar in his Cell,
Who first found out that Stratagem of Hell;
When he together did Ingredients Brew,
Swift Death upon the Wings of Nitre flew;
Upon their Models Armies do advance,
And they push on the Victories of France;
Where e're that haughty Monarch doth appear,
A Monk's his Confessor and Engineer;
The Rudiments in Verulam were drawn,
And then Philosophy began to dawn;
It rose with such a bright, auspicious Ray,
'Twas a fair hostage for a clearer day:
The Great St. Albans fell into disgrace,
And slight Concussions made him lose his Place;
But it was Royal Envy shot him Dead,
And this struck off Unparallel'd Rawleigh's Head:
Had Bacon to one Talent been confin'd,
A Star of the first Magnitude had shin'd;
He did neglect the Functions of his Gown,
So from the Precipice he tumbl'd down;
Whilst he was drawing Schemes they took the Town.
Then at some distance Wilkins did succeed,
Our captive Reason he entirely Free'd;
Justly Restor'd, she the Ascendant gains,
When Barbarous Ignorance held her long in Chains:
This gave to several Factions discontent,
To see the Change of Ancient Government;
Jokes did descend from Father to the Son,
They in the beaten Road went jingling on;
With a grave Pace and solemn Look did tread,
Were with implicit Bells like horses led;
It was the vicious Clenching of the Age,
It might divert upon Ben Johnson's Stage:
But Andrew's real worth it did abate,
Tarnish'd his stile, his sense did desecrate;
He great Advantage from those studies drew,
Which do instruct us how to Argue true;
He in his Temper to the World was kind,
Would them unite in Language, and in Mind;
His Projects in an higher Orb did move,
He'd fix a Commerce with the Stars above;
For by our Glasses what we take to be
Spots in the Lunar Disc, are Earth and Sea:
Then we should like unto Elijah fly
In Fiery Chariots through the liquid Sky;
When he upon this fancy'd Subject writ,
'Twas an exalted Essay of his Wit;
Agreeably he did our thoughts Amuse,
All other Theories he reduc'd to Use;
Learning and Goodness had their proper Sphere,
Was a great Prelate, and Philosopher.
In Geoponicks Evelin doth excel,
Gardens and Woods none understands so well,
Knows the minutest Seeds, each Plant enfolds,
And all the vast diversity of Molds;
What proper Earth accomodates each Tree,
Distinguisheth their Class and Pedigree;
Moreland doth Fountains to their [...] raise,
Vers'd in their Serpentine and Crooked ways;
One Water hath improv'd, the other Soil,
Fire and elastick Air belong to BOYLE,
His curious Engine doth pump out our Breath,
And there you see the Agonies of Death,
Which fearful Nature by degrees disrobes,
For the Conveyances of Life are Lobes.
To try how this Experiment doth pass,
Shut a Domestick Tigre in a Glass;
Stop all the pervious Avenues with Clay,
Drain her almost unto the last decay,
With the strong efforts, when she groans and heaves,
A pungent Salt expiring Life retrieves.
He like a wise Interpreter did unfold
All the Arcana both of Heat and Cold;
Our Vital Flame Analogous to a Lamp,
Which Death extinguisheth with her mortal damp;
A stirious piece of water did confound,
When the soft Weapon melted in the wound;
His vivid Colours entertain our sight,
'Tis an Elizian Subject, Fields of Light;
Ultra-marine of Lapis Lazuli,
Is a bright Rival to the Azure Sky;
None but Kings Palaces this stone should hold,
A Purple 'tis, inlaid with streaks of Gold:
Then Gems, a Subject he so well hath done,
Are the peculiar Favorites of the Sun;
On other things his Beams he thinly lays,
Here he's Compact, and doth condense his Rays:
He like an Artist Physick understood,
And us'd it as a more diffusive Good;
Great pleasure in those Contemplations plac'd,
Nature thro' all her wild Meanders trac'd:
Knew for what proper use each place did serve,
Follow'd the Foot-steps of each winding Nerve;
He view'd the seat of Hypocond riack Bile,
And all the subtle passages of Chile;
He saw the curious Net-work of the Brain,
The Lympheducts and every Lacteal Vein.
He gave to Medals justly their esteem,
But in those studies did not too much Dream;
Did not upon them lay too great a stress,
Nor doated on an Antiquated Dress;
If genuine they to History give a light,
And in Chronology they set you right;
But often false do for the true ones pass,
They cheat in Gold, in Silver and in Brass:
In Otho and Vitellius is deceit,
And they Pescennius Nigers counterfeit.
In Gardens he did recreate his sense,
Walk'd their Parterres with the first Innocence;
He did not load his memory with words,
(A Miser so his idle Treasure hoards;)
Herbs he employ'd unto a nobler use,
He into wholesom Med'cines squeez'd their juice:
Then the Exotick Plants he did survey,
Which did his Curiosity defray;
For there he saw the melancholy Tree
Fold up its self by day and cloister'd be;
Phoebus another Daphne hath in chace,
Can't importune her into one embrace;
But to his paler Rival she doth yield,
Who when he's down usurps the quitted field;
Her tender Spirits he doth roughly treat,
And them disperse with too intense an heat;
But the weak Moon with a more languid Ray,
Draws the Sap forth, and doth her Leaves display.
Study he did not intermit, but change,
When he more freely had a mind to range;
Then he ran over all the Ages past,
Saw in what models Governments were Cast;
By what insensible degrees they thrive,
And what false steps of growth doth them deprive;
For some are Dwarfs, and some Gigantick Tall,
Like to a Weather-glass they rise and fall:
Of Policy he saw the sinallest springs,
The change of States, vicissitude of Kings;
Guards to the Good, bright Constellations are,
A Tyrant hath not one propitious Star:
He to Antiquity was very just,
And yet he did not load himself with dust;
Those to the Metals who themselves confine,
Are tinctur'd with the Colour of the Mine;
Sometimes a Pease-bloom-damp puts out their light,
And subterranean Daemons them do fright;
Are the Sulphurean Guardians of the Ore,
Which we in currant Images adore;
We should not study beyond such a mark,
Lest we too far do wander in the dark;
Like those who are to gloomy Caverns sent,
This is inflicted as a punishment;
They make the Prisoner from his Dungeon rise,
A sudden splendor dazleth out his Eyes,
So this rebates the keenness of our sight,
When darted on by Subjects that are bright:
This Age for former Negligence atones,
With Selden's Marbles, and with Gruter's Stones.
Ireland is by indulgent Nature free'd
From all those Creatures which do Venom breed;
And sometimes she her Natives doth produce,
Men of the meekest Souls, and softest Juice:
This Influence on her Favorites doth fall,
Gentle as Doves, and born without a Gall;
Candor to them is Medes and Persians Law,
Ambition did not swell, nor Envy gnaw:
In BOYLE and Usher we this temper find,
Who were the most Obliging of Mankind;
He practic'd every Doctrine that he taught,
And with all stores of Learning he was fraught;
To the sublimest pitch of Knowledge flew,
Nothing to him was hid, no Book was new:
Him as a Prodigy let his Country tell,
None ever Writ, or ever Liv'd so well:
Then as the credit of our Northern Air,
BOYLE came to make a Celebrated pair;
Learning is Ship-wrack'd on the Spanish Coast,
And they have no Philosophers to boast:
And Age hath slip'd, and not one Art hath gain'd,
Cervantes long ago their humor drain'd;
In Italy then Galileo writ,
Malpigius too, that most portentous Wit;
He to the World that Secret did impart,
That Trees have Lungs, a Midriff and an Heart:
The other they did in a Prison lay,
Because to Heaven he found another way.
Ungrateful Athens thus her Sons did treat,
When they with too much Vertue were grown great;
And thus rapacious hands on him did seise,
Who first asserted the Antipodes:
France hath a double share of Learned Men,
Salmasius with his smooth and easy Pen;
Cartes for subtilty the Prize doth win,
He all his Bowels out in Silk doth spin,
The fineness of his Notions makes them thin:
Gassendus doth deserve the second stall,
But Mufick made Mersennus Whimsical;
Poiret by all the World is justly hist,
A dull Enthusiast, a crack'd Platonist;
Malebranch must for a Nervous Writer stand,
Then the reserves, Du Hamel and Le Grand;
But the triumphant Warriers of the Lists,
Are the Ingenious, solid Jansenists;
Their comely Morals a Decorum keep,
They taught us how to think, and how to speak.
And now they're rendezvous'd, our Champion call,
Him single we'll oppose unto them all;
We all their Competitions will assoil,
With the belov'd, the honor'd Name of BOYLE:
He in Philology was profoundly Vers'd,
Poets and Orators fluently rehears'd;
He never them superfluously did quote,
But a new peice of Knowledge to promote:
Authors that were Obscene he did detest,
He did select the cleanest and the best;
Learning into the Desert did withdraw,
War banish'd that as it doth silence Law:
Like Arethusa it went under ground,
After such lengths of time it did rebound,
Did with fresh streams upon the surface spread,
The Amphisbaena had a double head,
Truth for protection to a cloister flies,
And there by Monks corrupted was with Lyes,
The Sanctuary worse than life at large,
For here the Guardian did debauch his charge;
The clouds were scatter'd and the day began,
In refin'd Petrarch and Politian.
BOYLE Nature in her nicest Movements saw,
With sympathising Atomes she doth draw,
Her Load-stone Iron, shining Amber Straw:
This viscous Gem the Sea on Prussia throws,
And falling little Creepers doth enclose;
The provident Ant was once a Captive made,
Surpris'd as it was wandring in the shade;
The Tree exuded and the little Fop
Was strait imprison'd in a yellow drop;
So he that living was obscurely hid,
Now lay entomb'd within a Pyramid:
But BOYLE a wondrous story doth relate,
For all that's Curious he's design'd by Fate;
That in a Sanguine Ladies blushing Face,
(Nature her Wonders there doth always place)
Blood was to such a fine consistence wrought,
In the Balsamick Net her Locks were caught;
The Curls are fasten'd to the Cheeks which glow,
The women thought that she had gum'd too low;
She did not dawb with false Complection thick,
For then the hair might in the mortar stick;
Native it was, and pure Vermilion all,
And the attraction was Electrical:
Now set this mirror with such lustre deckt,
That there each Noble-man may his face reflect;
Make it the Topick of his emulous strife,
How he may imitate such a spotless life:
Honor is bought, and great Attendance hir'd,
But it is Learning only that's acquir'd;
These like dead weights uneasily are born,
They load, but only Knowledg doth adorn;
'Tis our prerogative above the Brutes,
There is a sort of glimmering sense in Roots;
Graces of Reason you in Beasts may mark,
Of a faint Jewel an imperfect spark;
Outdo the Fox in stratagem if you can,
Grave as a Visier in a full Divan:
There was a brave resentment in an Horse,
And the Brasilian Parrot can discourse.
He in a barren Soil his Seeds did plant,
And succor'd Ignorance, the greatest want;
All passages of Counsel Pride doth shut,
But Cataracts may be Couch'd, and Films are Cut;
The rays of Vision that entirely stops,
For wise Instructors do despair of Fops;
Those are Enlighten'd after pains endur'd,
But the Conceited Wretch can ne're be Cur'd;
Envy by ravenous Wolves, and Harpies drawn,
The Foam of Cerberus, of Styx the Spawn;
Who rails at Mountains living in the Vale,
And others Sanguine looks do make her Pale;
So strong a mind could not her Captive make,
Could not insinuate with the smallest Snake;
And when of such a Prize the Fury mist,
Did grind her Teeth, and all her Serpents hist:
No Age with Wonders teeming did bring forth
Any superior to him in Worth,
He with a Gaiety of Temper charm'd,
The Froward of their Anger he disarm'd;
He wonder'd why so furious they became,
For his own Breast did never feel the Flame;
He all the Battering Rams with softness broke,
His Patience, not his Sickness did provoke;
Repeated shocks of Pain did make him faint,
But all could not extort the least Complaint:
His Mind inflexible did in vain attack,
Walk'd in the Furnace, sung upon the Rack;
Tho Tortur'd yet could still resolve a Doubt,
Reason'd like Possidonius with the Gout.
And now he's mix'd with the Angelick Race,
Only of Happiness hath chang'd the place;
For whilst below he still enjoy'd a Calm,
Now doth embrace the Tree which drop'd the Balm:
His Body's in a richer Mantle clad,
But nothing to his righteous Soul can add;
Rome chiefly did that Purple Veil extol,
Which deck'd Jove's Temple in the Capitol;
Did the Plebeian Race of Light out-shine,
Of that the strong Reflections were Divine:
So all things were Eclips'd by mighty BOYLE,
The brightest Wits were unto his a Foil.
Marriage to be a Lottery he thought,
In which your happiness is too dearly bought;
The venture in this Game of chance doth rise,
Above the real value of the Prize:
He of decaying Beauty was not fond,
But Friendship was his firm and lasting Bond;
Without allay this is a Virgin-Ore,
And his Friend was his dearest Lindamor;
The Tie is now Consummated above,
Where he enjoys his own Seraphick Love;
Death from the Body did his Soul release,
The seat of each pragmatical Disease;
A wound inflicted deeply turns the Brain,
Then you are twisted with Arthritick pain;
With Cold you shiver, and are scorch'd with Heat,
The Gout constrains the hands, and binds the feet;
You with the Palsy are but just alive,
Half of himself the Patient doth survive:
Then the whole System with the Scurvey jarrs,
You're drown'd in Dropsies, strangled wth Catarrs;
An Apoplexy doth attack the Head,
He Bow'd, & where he Bow'd, he fell down Dead:
Each trivial accident doth Death provoke,
A Grape-stone did the sweet Anacreon Choke;
From griping Talons once an Oyster fell
On AEschylus, and broke a finer Shell:
The Stone doth for your utmost Patience call,
It is an hard, concreted Mineral;
The vertue of the Magnet it will feel,
Out of it draws small Particles of Steel:
With legion of Torture it is full,
Beyond the Rack, or Phalaris's Bull;
From all things that ocour we Death may fear,
Judge right and we are Ship-wrack'd everywhere.
Come in the Vault the noble Body lay,
The mournful Relicks of his precious Clay;
We need not here condoling Women hire,
With real Grief we're ready to expire:
Let Clouds of Incense mount unto the Sky,
Throw of, and let the Imperial Eagle fly,
Which in the Clefts of lofty Rocks is caught,
The lively Image of his towring Thought:
BOYLE was as Generous, tho not so Fierce,
His Judgment like the others Eyes did Pierce;
On Objects worthy of his Mind did fix,
His Notions won't with any others mix:
Let him within those hallow'd Entrails rest,
With a more lasting solitude now Blest,
Till the World labours with a second Birth,
Whirl-winds shall shake the Center of the Earth;
The Globe upon uncertain Hinges roles,
And one Convulsive Pang shall join the Poles;
Then the Arch-Angels last but dreadful sound,
Shall wake the Nations sleeping under Ground.
His Character's above my puny strength,
Let a Vandike his Picture draw at length:
For him the richest Colours are too faint,
Phidias should Carve him, and Apelles Paint;
A Volume his Encomium should resound,
A Poem, such as mine's, a narrow Bound:
And here your Genius you hold in with Pain,
'Tis the most irksome Province to contain.
Devouring Time shall not his Statue wast,
But of his Wit the Monuments shall out-last
Duilius Pillar, and Seleucus League,
'Twas honest then but now it is intreague:
To his research all Secrets lay unbar'd,
And nothing for his Wisdom was too hard;
Understood Men, and every Science knew,
Was to the Practice of each Vertue True.
And now I've finish'd this unwelcome Theme,
Of Grief I might indulge a private Stream,
For Thyrsis and Damaetas both are Dead,
And I am left behind a lump of Lead,
My Fate depends upon your single Thread;
Therefore with Care pray cultivate your health,
For in your Cargo doth consist my wealth;
I wish your Constitution still serene,
Not a discolour'd Feature may be seen:
Bodies are follow'd by obsequious shades,
When Sickness makes you droop my Pleasure fades;
I feel the previous symptoms of your Urn,
When the least Feaver warms you, I must burn;
And when Anomalous Cold doth make you quake,
If in the torrid Zone, yet I must shake.
That which did kindle shall put out our light,
Our Needles the same Magnet did excite:
A Circle terminates where it first begins,
We'll dy like your Hippocrates his Twins;
As we in Life, in Death we'll be the same,
Our Piles shall make one Pyramid of Flame.
FINIS.