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An ELEGY on the Death of the Great Duke of ORMOND.

1 LAte in a lonely Melancholly Shade,
2 Whilst all my Cares victorious Sleep obey'd;
3 A Vision suddenly possess'd my Brain,
4 And tortur'd Nature labor'd with the pain.
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5 My trembling Soul forgot her wonted trade,
6 Nor could she call the Senses to her aid,
7 Oppress'd with wonder and uncommon awe,
8 At the Celestial Miracles she saw.
9 Methought upon a Lucid Cloud in State,
10 As on a Throne an awful Monarch sate,
11 Mysterious Glories shone around his face,
12 And soon I knew by each Angellick Grace,
13 And the Indulgence of a pitying Smile,
14 'Twas that lov'd Prince
* K. Charles II.
that lately rul'd this Isle,
15 Attending Cherubs fann'd him with their wings;
16 Whilst on each side a row of British Kings
17 All met in Council for some grand Intent,
18 Made up in pomp the Glorious Parliament.
19 Great Edward, Henry, deathless in their Fames,
20 Two Henrys more, and Learned Pious Iames,
21 With that blest Martyr by his own betraid,
22 Sate mute to hear what their great Off-spring said,
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23 Who with a solemn Voice and awful brow,
24 And the same Grace with which he charm'd below;
25 Whilst crowding Angels their Attentions lent,
26 Thus made Oration to th' Omnipotent.
27 Great Sire of Angels as of Humane Race,
28 All copied from thy own Celestial face,
29 Who with a Breath canst Life and Death controul
30 This hour Create, the next recal the Soul;
31 Inspire a Clod, and from Earths common dust
32 Winnow the Brave and Good from the unjust;
33 Receive another Hero to thy store,
34 And to thy Heaven add one Glory more,
35 Ormond, the best of all Earths noble brood,
36 Ormond, the Wise the Virtuous and the Good;
37 The noblest Theme of each fam'd Poets Song,
38 Tir'd with frail Nature he has worn so long,
39 Implores to crown his Souls triumphant Fame
40 In that Eternal Peace from whence it came,
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41 Through all the Mazes of ambiguous Life,
42 Through foreign Battels and domestick Strife,
43 Through Traitors Swords & Plots contriv'd in Hell,
44 Through inmate Fiends that pray and yet Rebel;
45 Ormond, undaunted has like Gideon pass'd,
46 Preserving Faith and Honor to the last,
47 Loyal as Brave, and Brave as Mortals were,
48 Ere the first damning Sin begot base Fear,
49 Nay, what's a Rarity we find in few,
50 He was a Saint and yet a Soldier too.
51 To what a pitch must Fame his Glory raise,
52 That all degrees of Heaven and Earth do praise,
53 For his Youths Judgment by the wise admir'd,
54 As much for Beauty by the Fair desir'd;
55 For as each word would move a stander by,
56 So every look could Charm a Ladies Eye;
57 Cherubs and Seraphins his value know,
58 And chant above what we repeat below,
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59 Tyrannick Time, that even does ravenous seem,
60 To prey on others, did no hurt to him,
61 But seem'd afraid a Fabrick to destroy,
62 So long propp'd up by Sacred Geometry,
63 In which all People took such general Joy;
64 And that true Justice on my part appear,
65 For where should it inhabit if not here.
66 I when Intestine Foes my Crown besieg'd,
67 Stood to his Virtue and his Faith oblig'd;
68 He trac'd my Exile with unwearied Love,
69 And to asswage my boundless Sorrows strove;
70 Brave man that never fail'd my Cause to fight,
71 Nor valued his when I had lost my right,
72 Oppressed with pinching Grief yet still so good,
73 Hee'd murmur not, though almost wanting food;
74 But when his Coffers were exhausted dry,
75 Fed on the Manna of his Loyalty:
76 At last when by thy blest decree I came,
77 To be restor'd, his duty was the same
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78 His Soul still wore the same unalter'd dress,
79 Not swell'd with Power, nor less'ned by distress
80 But modell'd by thy own Divinity,
81 It still retains some perfect-Seeds of thee,
82 Which now extract him to so pure a state,
83 'Twill cost but little trouble to translate:
84 Admit then oh Eternal All in All,
85 And to our state of Bliss, lov'd Ormond call,
86 Reward his Zeal and Piety below
87 With blessings here too good for Earth to know:
88 No Star can better grace the Court Divine,
89 Nor of his Magnitude can brighter shine.
90 Thus spoke the Godlike Monarch, and a grant
91 From Heaven's dread Sovereign publish'd a consent.
92 The Saints in waiting hum'd aloud for Joy,
93 And Halelujahs fill'd the echoing Sky;
94 When strait a glorious Light, methought was seen
95 Just as another Sun had rising been,
96 The dazling Splendor made Eternal day,
97 And Ormond's Name Rung o'er the milky way,
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98 Straight the Majestic Soul was seated high,
99 Deck'd in the Robes of new Divinity;
100 Through all the Sacred Host was Joy express'd,
101 At the Instalment of this Glorious Guest,
102 On the left hand of Gracious Charles he sate,
103 His mortal Cares crown'd with immortal State.
104 This joyful Scene scarce did my Vision show,
105 But I was waken'd with their Crys below;
106 And to my grief as well as theirs I knew
107 Their mournful sounds had prov'd this wonder true,
108 His Friends in Tears all made a loud Complaint,
109 The World had lost, though Heaven had gain'd a Saint,
110 And amongst all the numerous selfish Train,
111 My self had not least Reason to complain;
112 But wished with them a worthy held so dear,
113 Had been less happy, and stay'd longer here.
114 And here my Muse make thy peculiar moan,
115 The best inspirer of thy Art is gone,
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116 Thy noble Patron that first plum'd thy wing.
117 Inform'd and dipt thee in Apollo's Spring,
118 And in Poetick numbers made thee sing,
119 By Angels courted to his sacred home,
120 Leaves thee to sigh thy Sorrows on his Tomb.
121 In wisest Rules of moral Learning bred,
122 He never thought it a disgrace to read,
123 Nor true Applause to a just Merit grudge,
124 Though not a Poet yet a Poets Judge,
125 Could well instruct a Pegasus to fly,
126 Shew where he flagg'd or where he soar'd too high
127 Mourn, mourn, ye Sons of Phoebus, burn your Books,
128 And let your hearts be sad as are your Looks;
129 Forsake your Lyrick strains and let each Eye
130 Drown in salt Floods your Patrons Elegy;
131 Who? now the Muses lustre shall advance
132 Above the scorn of sordid Ignorance,
133 Who? shall their want of generous Friends supply
134 Or raise the drooping head of Poetry:
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135 He's gone, he's gone, his Aid you ask in vain,
136 Law and the Grave never refund again.
137 Too late the mighty Loss is understood,
138 Few know the value till they lose the Good;
139 For eighty rowling Years he still was known
140 The brightest Jewel in the British Crown,
141 And with unblemish'd lustre grac'd our Isle,
142 The value true, nor needed any foil;
143 His Virtue made his Dignity more great,
144 His Mein was graceful and his Language sweet,
145 And none his noble Actions liv'd to see,
146 But wish'd him greater than he wish'd to be.
147 His early Cares to serve his Prince did tend,
148 A faithful Subject, Counsellor and Friend,
149 To th' Royal Line, when Faction high did rise,
150 His Arm gave succour and his Heart advise;
151 So once to Saul did the great Prophet do,
152 Good Counsel gave, and fought his Battels too.
153 Happy those Heroes were that understood,
154 Their Virtues made 'em nobler than their Blood,
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155 That 'twas the intrinsick Value of the Ore,
156 And not the stamp that made the Merit more;
157 With vain Ambition some themselves deceive,
158 But to be brave and honest is to live;
159 To be an Ormond is the Life sublime,
160 The noblest Pattern of precedent Time,
161 Whose Saint-like Pity, God-like Gentleness
162 T' incourage Merit, and relieve Distress,
163 No Wit can praise enough, nor Tongue express.
164 Henceforth, vile Age, thy ill spent time redeem,
165 Grow good, and let Great Ormond be thy Theme
166 Let each vain Courtier break his flattering Glass,
167 And in his Pious Mirror learn to dress;
168 Whilst all the Muses with dejected Eyes,
169 Offer whole Volumes of sad Elgies;
170 A mournful Train with Cypress Garlands on,
171 Methinks I see forsake their Hellicon,
172 To sing the solemn Dirges of this day;
173 But ah, bright Soul, what Tribute shall I pay!
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174 My Heart no respite to her Woes shall have,
175 For when remembring thee, I idly rave,
176 To think no Worth can charm, no Virtue scape the Grave.

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Title (in Source Edition): An ELEGY on the Death of the Great Duke of ORMOND.
Author: Thomas D'Urfey
Themes:
Genres: elegy

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D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723. New poems, consisting of satyrs, elegies, and odes together with a choice collection of the newest court songs set to musick by the best masters of the age / all written by Mr. D'Urfey. London: Printed for J. Bullord ... and A. Roper ..., 1690, pp. 165-185. [16],207,[1]p. (ESTC R17889) (Page images digitized from a copy in the Bodleian Library [Harding C 1197 (1)].)

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Typography, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation have been cautiously modernized. The source of the text is given and all significant editorial interventions have been recorded in textual notes. This ECPA text has been edited to conform to the recommendations found in Level 5 of the Best Practices for TEI in Libraries version 4.0.0.

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