AN ELEGY, Upon that Incomparable Comedian, Mr. EDWARD ANGELL.
HAng the Stage all in black; this sable night
Hath brought a deluge, caus'd an Angels flight.
Before Creation, Heav'n lost an Angel thence;
Our Stage's Angel hath made his Exit hence.
His pregnant Actions of Transcendant Wit,
Rung Peals of Mirth, in Gallery, Box, and Pit.
He was the best of Mimiques, and took's Degree
Master of Art, in every Comedy.
To hear his Mimick voyce, which did dispense
Divertisement to all Spectators sense.
It fill'd 'em with amazement to behold,
What actions sprung from his corporeal mold.
His loss is felt at Court, where it does move
The Great Ones there, like the true Soul of Love.
The City too bewails: And now in lieu
Of former Mirth, from them drop showers of Dew.
He was the Poets Darling, not one but wears
Clouds on his brow, his eyes flow seas of tears.
The Actors all, at Fate's so swift command,
Are turn'd some Ghosts; others like Statues stand.
Who shall play Stephano now? your Tempest's gone,
To raise new Storms i'th' hearts of every one.
Farewell Dufoy; That Comical revenge,
That always pleasing Play, is now unhing'd.
Adieu, dear Friskin: Unfort'nate Lovers weep,
Your mirth is fled, and now i'th' Grave must sleep.
No more to Epsom; Physicians try your skills,
Since Frible now has ta'n his leave o'th' Wells.
His parts too numerous were for Elegy,
And Scenes too Comical to be ex [...]ess'd by me:
Let best of Poets do't, it shall suffice
I on thy Grave this Epitaph Incize:
EPITAPH.
Here lies Ned Angel, who rul'd, as he thought fit,
The English Stage of Comick, Mimick Wit. 211.