AN ELEGY ON That famous ORACLE of LAW, and unbiass'd Dispenser of JUSTICE, the most Learned and no less Religious SR Matthew Hale, KT. The late LORD Chief Justice of ENGLAND, Who departed this Life on Christmas-day last, at his House in Atherly in Glocester-shire.
GReat HALE a fortnight Dead! and none Proclaim
Our Loss, in strains Immortal as his Name?
Has the late Frost Crampt all the Wits? or Vice
Congeal'd their Brains with a more fatal Ice?
Shall each small Miss usurp the Muses Arms,
And fill the Town with painted Celia's Charms?
Shall every Silken Fopp, and trivial Herse
Be double-daub'd with Mercenary Verse;
And such a Patriot unregarded dye
Without the Tribute of an Elegy?
Ungrateful Age! though Art pretend not to it
Just Indignation sure may make a Poet;
Nor need we pray in Aid of Fancy here
Where loftiest Praise does sober Truth appear;
For whosoe're indeed would do HALE Right
Must History, and not a Poem, write;
He must draw Cato, Solon, Cicero,
The Ancient Sages and the Modern too;
He must Limn Spirits never tyr'd, such parts
As held in Fee th'whole Magazin of Arts;
He that would search all Glories of the Gown
And Steps of all rais'd Servants of the Crown
Shall n'ere find one Amongst that Glittering Store
Whom Fortune aided less, or Virtue more;
Who shall discover now those flourish't Sleights
Which Lawyers offer for pretended Rights?
Who shall, like Virgo in the Zodiack, fit
Between bold Leo and Just Libra sit;
Who at first opening of a Cause shall spye
The Knot, And that not Cut, but well untye?
Who can dispatch so much, so well, so free
From Fear, from Favour, Stain or Bribery;
You might the Sun out oth' Ecleptick hurl
Unhinge from Natures Poles the tottering World;
Stop Primum Mobile, sooner than wrest
Or Divorce Justice from his Candid Brest;
Trace his Beginning, when at first his Good
In others Evil best was understood,
When being the Strangers help, The Poor mans aid
His Just defences made th' unjust afraid;
Th' unfriended's Patron, The oppressed's shield,
The Fort of Truth untaught by Charms to yeild,
Such was his Progress that Integrity
And Skill (even then) became Authority;
And Clients strove in Question of the Laws
More for his Patronage, than for their Cause,
Such too at last his Stand, whilst he did deal
Desired Justice to the Publick Weal;
Through all the Three High Courts of Common Law
We saw him loud Applause and Wonder draw,
The Good to Cherish and the Bad to Awe
Nor were his Courts alone, but Readings where,
The Barr was Throng'd as much to Learn, as Hear:
Council he did but Rectify, not Bite;
Nor were men Checkt, or Jested from their Right,
So Grave! so mild his Judgments did appear,
As rais'd at once the Guilties Love and Fear;
Nor was his life less Glorious, Bright and Clean
In his Recess, than on the publick Scene;
Surviving not his Honours though his place,
He left the Bench in Favour, not Disgrace;
His King and Country serv'd, a wise Retreat,
To serve his God, renders his Course Compleat;
So like the Lamp of Heaven he possest
The greatest Lustre, hastning to his west;
Those few remaining Sands were wholly Given,
Peace to promote on Earth, Glory to Heaven;
Though Envy oft on Virtue doth attend,
He forced Envy's self to be his friend;
Reading his works, next Age may doubt (Each Line
With such bright rays of Piety doth shine)
Whether he was more Lawyer or Divine;
After the vast Turmoils of many years,
Unwearied Studies, and Consuming Cares.
He now is gone, Mounted on Angels wings,
To the Tribunal of the King of Kings;
Where Thron'd in Bliss, has chang'd his Scarlet Gown
For th'long white Robe, and an eternal Crown.
EPITAPH.
WEep Reader! weep for if we see
Thy Fountains dry, No man well be
So kind to shed a Tear for Thee;
An upright Judges sacred Dust,
Committed to this Tomb-stones Trust;
Expects the Rising of the Just.
Join Learned Cook, and Littleton,
And Twice Twelve more, when all is done,
You scarce express this Sngle one.
Nay, If you'l ransack Earth and Skies
For all that worth which good men prize,
Look no further—Here it lies.
Then let us leave him to his Ʋrn,
And hope when Enoch shall return,
To see his LIKE,—But till then Mourn.
Licensed,
Roger L'estrange,
January 8th, 1677.
FINIS.
London, Printed for Ben. Harris, in Sweethings-Ally, by the Royal Exchange, 1677.