AN ELEGY In Commemeration of Madam Ellenor Gwinn, Who Departed this Life on the 14th of November, Anno Dom. 1687.  

MUST She thus Die, has an Eternal Sleep,  
Seized each Great Muse, that all sad Silence keep?  
Not to be Waked ath' Melancholy Sound  
That Spreads itself, enlarging all around,  
And does our Hearts with Grief and Wonder Wound;  
To Death's Embraces must She Yield, and Lie  
Embalmed in Dust, without an ELEGY;  
No, rather let me come with Tribute Verse,  
And Strew some Mournful Cyprus on her Hearse:  
Admit me as a Cipher here to come,  
Who, though am Nothing, yet can raise a Sum.  
Speak then my Muse, and Speak in such a Strain,  
As may fit Audience from the World obtain.  
Speak, though like Grief herself, when Clad in Woe.  
To Melancholy Seats She hasts, which Flow  
With Floods of Tears, are hung with Weeping Eyes,  
And Sealed with Sighs and Groans that thither Rise,  
Whilst Loud Laments break through and Storm the Skies;  
Tell that a Glorious Beauty is with drawn  
To Silent Seats of Everlasting Dawn,  
Cropped like a Gay Flower by some Rude Hand,  
Or like a Blossom by the North Winds Fanned;  
As quick, as if her Fate had been in haste,  
She's set in Death, She upon whom were placed  
The willing Eyes of Numbers She Relieved,  
Could not from Death, be by their Prayers Repreiv'd.  
Inexorable Death, no Bribe could stay  
The Witty, Rich, and Beauteous must Obey,  
When by him Summoned to Eternal Day:  
Yet, let's not think her Dead, who ne'er shall Die,  
Till Time's ingulfed in vast Eternity.  
'Tis but her Shadow that we now have lost;  
She left but this for a more during Coast,  
And is but Freed from Troubles that were hurled,  
Like moving Storms upon the Restless World  
We all must go, though all not at a time,  
Some Age be friends, some snatched are in their Prime.  
Mankind was Dust, and must be Dust again,  
And all must Die, though none knows where, nor when;  
So have I seen an unfixed Star Remain,  
A Time with Brightness, 'mongst the Numerous Train  
Of Glittering Fires, when Darting suddenly,  
It left its Sphere no more to Light the Sky:  
But some may Cast Objections in, and say  
These scattered Praises that we seek to lay  
Upon her Hearse, are but the formal Way:  
Yet, when we tell them She was free from Strife;  
Courteous even to the Poor, no Pride of Life  
ere Entertaining, but did much Abound  
in Charity, and for it was Renowned.  
Not seeking Praises, but did va●● Praise despise,  
And at her Alms was heard no Trumpets Noise.  
And how again, we let them further see,  
That She refused and hated Flattery;  
And far from her Dissemblers did Command,  
We may have Hopes her Fame for this may stand.  
However, let the softer Beauties come,  
And bring their Wreaths of Flowers to Deck her Tomb;  
Mixed with the Mournful Ciperus and Yew;  
Weep, that the Witty and the Gay withdrew.  
Leaving the World so soon, let all the Train  
Of those that Fed upon her Bounty Drain  
Their full Eyes, and of Dcath's Cruelty Complain,  
That he by not permitting her to stay,  
Took that sad Hour, their Maintenance away.  
Let all those that She has advanced appear,  
And in their Eyes, their Silent Sorrow wear;  
Till every Mourner for a time, become  
Sad as her Fate, and like her Lifeless Body Dumb.    

EPITAPH.  

If Beauty, Wit, or Friends, had Power to save  
Alive, what this Tomb does from Death Receive,  
It had not yet been here; yet Reader, spare  
Not on this Dust, to drop a Friendly Tear.  
'Tis only Dust lies covered in this Tomb,  
Her Fame and Soul Employ a larger Room.    
WITH ALLOWANCE.  

LONDON, Printed by D. Mallet, next Door to the Sign of the Star, between Fleet Bridge and Bridewell-Bridge. 16●7. 176.