I Overcome & Conquer   outline of tombstone, including emblems of Death, which surrounds text  
AN ELEGY, Upon the DEATH of George Lord Jefferies, THE LATE LORD CHANCELLOR; Who Departed this Life on the 18th. of April, 1689. in the Tower.  

IN rugged Lines my Muse attempts to try  
A Strain or two, and Form an Elegy;  
In an unusual Path makes bold to tread,  
To bring the News, the Plague o'th' Nation's Dead.  
Come ye Ignatians with your Holy Cross,  
In Dust and Ashes now Lament your Loss;  

Lament and Mourn, let brinish Tears bedew  
His Tomb, who living was so just to you,  
Let Sighs and Groans your inward Sorrows show.   

Drain all your Eyes, appear with Sackcloth on,  
Lament that your great Benefactor's gone,  
You've lost a Champion, and your Church a Son:   
Express your Sorrow for his Cruel Fate,  
Let not Bald Time e'er wear him out of Date;  
Ingrave his Name on Monuments of Brass,  
Saint him, and then adore him in your Mass:  
Send his Good Actions on the Wings of Fame,  
And in fit Accents celebrate his Name;  
Dub him a Petty God, and then adore him,  
Say Ave Georgii, then fall down before him.  
Adore his Relics, to his Image Pray,  
Put him in your Calendar such a day;  
With Invocations seem the Clouds to pierce,  
With Miracles adorn his Tomb and Hearse;  
He many Deeds for Mother Church has done,  
And proved himself a true Legitimate Son.  
Behold! a blooming Sinner disappears,  
Worthy St. Coleman and such Persons Tears;  

A Judge without Pity, and a Heart of Steel,  
A Valiant Sinner, and a Friend to tell  
Whose Bold Acts none e'er can parallel.   

Still with the Times, he'd never cease to turn,  
Nor at Rome's Black Intrigues would show concern  
He'd rather live a Reprobate than burn.   
As Rome more Rampant grew, and more increased  
In Converts, he strived to exalt the Beast;  
He'd venture all to please a Popish Crew,  
Subvert the Government to erect a New;  
Can stretch his Conscience to increase his Purse,  
Then whip his Mouth, and cry, I'm never the worse.  
A Bold, Ambitious, Wilful, Daring Man,  
As Boisterous as any dangerous Hurrican;  
At Court he was content with all that fell,  
Though ne'er so Evil, yet he liked it well.  

He counted Justice as a trivial thing,  
If too pervertent, would but please a K—  
To humour whom, he'd venture Soul or any thing.   
Just when Feed; Meek when overswayed,  
Pleased, when feared, and Courteous when obeyed;  
Obedient for Fear, Pious for a Name,  
Seeking in all his Actions, Honour, Wealth or Fame.  
When in the Church, he'd seem devout in Prayer,  
Although it was but seldom he came there;  
It was not oft he visited that place,  
Except 'twas now and then to air his Mace:  
To show his Person, seem to be devout,  
And be admired by a senseless Rout.  

When in the Court he could with all comply,  
Say and Unsay, Flatter, Cog and Try,  
And suit his Nature to his Company.   
He being vexed, and overcharged with Care,  
Died with Grief, and's gone the Lord knows where.  
His Crimes were many, and his Sins not small,  
He'll Sin no more, he's gone to answer all.    

EPITAPH.  

COme Gentle Reader, whosoever thou art,  
Against this Tomb vouchsafe to take a part:  

Beneath this Stone lies Jefferies the Great,  
Who was a Sinner both to Church and State,  
The City's Cross, and all the Nations Fate.   
A Man who could with ease Dispense with Laws,  
Or cut and fit them for the Popish Cause;  
If Money, Law, Honour, Persecution, Strife,  
Or any Illegal Means could save his Life,  
He never had been here, then pray forbear,  
Depart from hence, and do not shed a Tear;  
He living Triumphed over every one,  
Then let us Triumph that he now is gone.    

Licenc'd according to Order.   

LONDON, Printed by G. Croom at the Blue Ball in Thames-street, 1689. 181.