A Consolatory Poem Humbly Addressed TO Her ROYAL HIGHNESS.  
UPON The much Lamented DEATH OF His Most Illustrious HIGHNESS, WILLIAM, Duke of Gloucester.  
By Dr. Gibbs.  
LONDON, Printed for John Hartley, over-against Grays-Inn in Holborn, and Sold by John Nutt near Stationer ' shall, 1700.   

A Consolatory Poem Humbly Addressed TO Her ROYAL HIGHNESS.  

IF e'er Harmonious Numbers can dispense  
To Wounded Minds a Healing Influence:  
If Grief, the reigning Passion in our Breast,  
Can thus be soothed, or mod'rately suppressed:  
You, the most Skilful of the Sacred Train,  
Come, and Unite in one Harmonious Strain:  
With Powerful Charms your flowing Numbers fill,  
A Mourning PRINCESS now demands your Skill:  
Condoling You the Royal Grief may share,  
Or with your Tuneful Song divert her Care.   

But vain's th'Attempt, I fear, to bring Relief,  
'Tis hard to stop so Great, so Just a Grief:  
If by this Means kind Heaven ordained a Cure  
For the sad Ills and Sorrows we endure,  
Through all the Land should the Rich Cordial go,  
And be as Universal as our Woe.  
But we in vain would in this Art excel,  
We hardly can our own Affliction tell,  
And how can Harmony with such Confusion dwell!   

But tho', Great Princess! our Endeavours fail,  
Your own Illustrious Virtues may prevail,  
Just Heaven already has approved the rest,  
Your Patience now stands the severest Test:  
But Noblest Minds the Greatest Ills can bear,  
And You in Calm Submission persevere:  
Thus your Perfections, tho' for Empire fit,  
To heavens Decrees incline You to submit.   

Then let the softer Passions be confined  
To their just Bounds by Fortitude of Mind:  
Think not on what so lately You have lost,  
The Hopeful Prince, Three Nations once could boast:  
When so much Danger in your Grief we view,  
How can we bear to mourn for Him and You!  
Affect not then Your Sorrows to renew.  
Reflect not on the Dismal Scene of Woe,  
What Pains the Godlike Youth did undergo:  
For His Disease kind heavens ordained so strong,  
Impatient They or He should suffer long.   

Strive not to recollect each Charming Grace,  
That once adorned his Beauteous Heavenly Face,  
And what a young Heroic Air did shine  
In all his Actions and his Form Divine.   

Remember not how grateful still did seem  
Your own Loved Virtues copied out in Him;  
Such were the great Perfections of his Mind,  
His Reason Strong, and yet his Temper Kind,  
That here soft Love with Majesty combined.   

But if you can't these fixed Ideas quit,  
(For who can such Endearments ere forget!)  
Tho' hence removed, lament him not, as lost:  
Just Heaven has all those Virtues now engrossed.  
And since they were to such Perfection grown,  
Prevents the future with a Brighter Crown;  
Unwilling they for their Reward should wait,  
Which both deserve and fit th' Angelic State:  
Not Flames with surer Instinct upward tend,  
Than all Perfections do to Heaven ascend.   

And here caressed by the Celestial Choir,  
What Joys do his Immortal Breast inspire!  
With Dawning Beams does the new Saint arise,  
And with fresh Glory Heaven itself surprise:  
His Godlike Ancestors descending meet  
The Beauteous Youth, and their loved Offspring greet;  
Then with Officious care they lead him on,  
Through Realms of Bliss, to his appointed Throne:  
The Heavenly Courtiers view their welcome Guest,  
And own their Joys and Number both increased.   

And thus, Great Princess, moderate your Sighs,  
Tho' the Delightful Object of Your Eyes  
From Earth retires, in Heaven Your pious Mind  
Him, where You most converse, will always find.   

Thus when the Patriarch did News receive,  
That his Lamented Son was yet alive,  
And that he was advanced to high Command,  
And Regal Honours in a Foreign Land;  
Supported thus, he did His Absence bear,  
In hopes to see him, and his Glory share.   

But how shall We our raging Griefs compose,  
And with what Hopes allay our present Woes!  
Since no Relief from Earth or Heaven appears,  
To calm our Sighs, and stop a Nations Tears▪  
In vain we all in one Affliction join,  
Which, tho' united thus, we can't sustain;  
For like the Soul, which now we feel oppressed,  
'Tis all in All, and all in every Breast.   

Vast and Important is the mighty Weight  
Of Earthly Kingdoms, and infirm the State;  
How apt to fall! and still exposed a Prey  
To Foreign Force, or Homebred Treachery!  
How hard 'tis to assert the Public Cause,  
And from the Lawless guard the Sacred Laws!  
And yet secure did we ourselves presume,  
Pleased with a Prospect of the Times to come:  
The distant Joys thus charmed our ravished Sight:  
But since the Rising Sun withdraws his Light,  
We fear Confusion and approaching Night.   

How is our Universal Comfort fled!  
Our Hopes are lost, a Future Monarch dead;  
And (if Propitious Heaven had so decreed,)  
How justly might he reign, how worthily succeed!   

But, O Illustrious Princess! how our Fears  
And Griefs increase, to see your Royal Tears!  
For when the pleasant Streams no longer flow,  
We for Relief, must to the Fountain go.  
And tho' we dread some future Ills to bear,  
Those, while You live, nor You, nor We can fear.   

And why should You or We so much despair?  
Heaven kindly promises another Heir,  
Which You, the Country's Parent, yet shall bear.  
The Great and Gracious GOD, whom we adore,  
Whose Gift resumed we now so much deplore,  
To recompense our Loss has Blessings yet in store.   

O, may they on Your Royal Head descend!  
And to th' Afflicted Nations thence extend:  
That a New Race of Princes yet unborn  
May Your Great Line continue and adorn,  
Who always may the Vacant Throne supply,  
And guard us from approaching Anarchy.   
THE END.