White-Hall. A Poem. Written 1642. WITH ELEGIES ON The Right Honourable FRANCIS Earl of BEDFORD. And HENRY Earl of Manchester, Lord Privy seal: both deceased during this present Session of Parliament. WITH An anniversary on the timeless death of Mrs. Anne Kirk, wife to the truly Noble Geo. Kirk, Gentleman of the Robes and of his majesty's Bed Chamber, drowned unfortunately passing London Bridge, July 6. 1641.  
The author Hen. Glapthorne.  
London, printed for Francis Constable, 1643.   

To my noble Friend and Gossip, captain Richard Lovelace.  
Sir,  
I Have so long been in your debt, that I was almost desperate in myself of making you payment, till this fancy by ravishing from you a new courtesy in its patrondge, promisedme it would satisfy part of my former engagements to you. Wonder not to see it invade you thus on the sudden: Gratitude is aerial, and like that Element▪ nimble in its motion and performance; though I would not have this of mine of a French disposition, to charge hotly and retreat unfortunately: there may appear something in this, that may maintain the field courageously against Envy, nay come off with honour; if you, Sir, please to rest satisfied, that it marches under your ensigns, which are the desires of  
Your true honourer Hen. Glapthorne.   

White-Hall.  
WHat Earthquake's this? that with such fury shakes  
My lofty Turrets from their Base? and makes  
My marble pillars totter, as they meant  
To sink into the Centre? the event  
Of these strange terrors certainly must be  
Sad prefaces to th' book of misery,  
Which now is opened in me; every page  
Of which is able to affright the age  
To hear it read, make Nature mourn and keep  
My Obit, nay the world's great Genius weep.  
How vain are human glories? why, should men  
Repine to meet a dissolution, when▪  
Even in an instant, such vast frames as I,  
Castles, and stateliest marble fabrics die?  
Nay Monarchies, such as have seen (the light  
Of the whole world) the Sun rise fair and bright,  
And set within their limits, quickly, have  
Had all their greatness shrouded in the grave  
Of that stern tyrant Destiny, who flings  
His various storms on kingdoms, nay on Kings,  
Who though they heavens immediate figures be,  
Cannot evade this sad fatality:  
When like loud thunder violent, or the North,  
Its sudden tempest hideously breaks forth,  
As't has on me, who have for many years  
Out-shined the state and lustre of my peers.  
Great Hampton Court, fair Greenwich, Richmond, and  
The pleasant nonesuch; that I seemed to stand  
Equal with Lo'uure, or that work of all  
So much admired, Spain's costly Scuriall;  
Who since that prince of Prelates, Woolsey, laid  
My firm foundations, have as Empress swayed  
O'er all the Birtish palaces, and been  
The constant Residence o'th'King and Queen,  
That with their presence royal, did adorn  
My well-built fabric: As continued morn  
Had dwelled about my cheeks, whose every ray  
Appeared sufficient to create new day  
Forth of the Chaos; As if t''ve begun  
Here to do Homage to the Eastern sun,  
Which never more shall red with blushes rise,  
To see himself out-shined by th'orient Eyes,  
Of those pure Constellations: that still went  
About me, made me seem a firmament  
Of moving stars: and unexampled I  
Was held the seat where Earths best deity  
Joyed to reside. As I had been the sum  
Of pleasure, the world's sole Elysium.  
Then were the times, when in my infant pride,  
Great Henry (who my buildings dignified  
First with that supreme honour) did resort  
Hither, entituling me his sovereign Court.  
When he his conquering ensigns did advance,  
Over the bowels of insulting France:  
When Turwis trembled at his fierce alarms,  
Where Maximilian his imperial arms,  
The Roman Eagles bravely did display  
Without dishonour, taking England's pay.  
When conquered Tournay sent his spoils to adorn  
My walls for such Illustrious trophies borne.  
Then who like me was happy when that King  
To me did all his mighty triumphs bring.  
That Honours own brow could not beast more bays,  
More wreathes of palm, then in those happy days  
Grew to my temples: And when silken peace  
Had tied wars surly rage up; what increase  
Of blessings flowed about me then? as Thames  
In its curled waves, had swallowed the four names  
Of those sweet Rivers that did once surround  
Eden, and I had been that happy ground  
Pregnant with aromatic balm and spice,  
The first created, long lost Paradise.  
Then did the worthies of that famous Age,  
Make me the constant, the continued stage  
Where they did act their Revels, Mirth, and Sport,  
Being the harmless Genii of the Court:  
When tilts and tournaments did to the life  
Imitate without bloodshed, wars, hot strife.  
Then gentle Love did all his Cupid's arm,  
To wound the Ladies (such wounds cause no harm)  
And struck the stubborn and more marble heart's  
Oth'gallant Heroes with his flaming Darts.  
And when that King had run his mortal race,  
The thronging stars striving to make him place  
Among their weaker fires: his hopesull son  
Edward (whose virtues all affections won)  
That little Eye of Nature, the Delight  
Oth'Kingdome, by his bloods undoubred right,  
Wielding this sceptre, did confirm to me  
The former Charter of my sovereignty.  
So did his Sister Mary, though her reign,  
(Cause fraught with trouble) scarcely did maintain  
Me in my wonted ornaments, when she,  
Who was the very soul of Majesty,  
That virgin Queen, whose unexampled glory,  
Gives truth to same, and miracle to story;  
In whose pure frame, as in their spheres were set  
The stars of Tudor and P●●ntaginet.  
Eliza. ruled, than I began to wear  
A dress of Excellence, more rich, more clear,  
And full of wonder, than fame's bounty could  
Ere clothe her brazen pillars in. I stood  
The envy of all Nations; then in me  
All blessings strived to make an unity.  
Then from the whole world, I did tribute take  
Brought into me by that great Neptune, Drake,  
Who furrowed up the threatning ocean's face,  
(And swift as billows do each other chase)  
Pursued the steps of honours through the main,  
Rifling the treasures of scarce known New Spain:  
Whose Mines and towns he ransacked, and ran on  
(Big with a noble brave Ambition)  
Through all opposing dangers, till he ●●rl'd,  
As 'twere a girdle 'bout the spacious world.  
Then did I groan under the unvalued weight  
Of spoils cast on me in that Eighty Eight;  
When that same huge Armado did invade  
The British Seas with terror, and displayed  
(In form of a vast Crescent on the flood)  
Itself as if t''ve been a tall grown wood:  
Till our small Navy did itself advance,  
(Resolved to stand the utmost storm of chance)  
Against that monstrous Fleet, that even defied  
Heaven in its infinite ambitious pride,  
And boldly led on by that son of ●ame,  
Our valiant admiral, noble Nottingham,  
Gave them fierce battle; then in fire did fly  
Like thunderbolts in lightning from the sky  
The deathful bullets, splitting with their stroke,  
The knotty ribs of their tough Biscaine Oak:  
Cracking their Masts, and with their sulphurous breath  
Giving their Ships fresh wounds to let in death:  
Which as they sunk cast forth a purple flood,  
And drowned in water, drowned the waves with blood.  
The waves that by th'forced motion wrought so high,  
As they had meant to hang tears i'th' sun's hot Eye,  
Who in a maze obscured his golden light,  
While clouds of smoke transformed the day to night.  
The affrighted Mirmaids flocked in shoals to see  
That dissolution of Mortality.  
And as it were in pity did instead  
Of their false Charms, chant requiems to the dead.  
The seas blue Sexton, Triton, making graves,  
Did work so hard he sweat amidst the waves:  
And Proteus now a constant visage wears  
Of sorrow, shedding pearls in stead of tears.  
Then what was rich and precious in that Fleet,  
With it the joyful conquerors did greet  
Me at their home return from these brave broils,  
As I had been the temple where the spoils  
Of that renowned sea fight aught to be  
Hung up as trophies to white victory:  
Nor were all these all triumphs that did fall,  
During this reign, on me (then blessed White-Hall)  
A thousand ornaments my rooms did gain,  
Fetched from the richest Cities of proud Spain.  
When that same joy of manhood whom his fare  
Did afterwards render unfortunate,  
Illustrious Essex with auspicious sails,  
Set forth to th'conquest of Hereculean Cales.  
Where great Alcides fixed his pillars, and  
Writ Non plus ultra to the then known Land:  
That City glorying in the Indian ore  
As low as earth humbled her head before  
That conquering Earl, while her tall towers and spires  
Burnt (as 'twere Martyrs) in those hideous fires  
Themselves made for themselves, till their huge frames  
Consumed to ashes in their own bright flames.  
Then did I flourish, than my spacious rooms  
Were hung with Arras, nay with Persian looms.  
Then did my walls dressed in rich colours vie▪  
With Roman palaces for imagery:  
Mosaic paintings (though I'm now forlorn)  
Did then my costly gilded roofs adorn.  
Statues of Parian Marble such as might  
The amorous Pygmalion invite  
To laugh at his dull workmanship, did grace  
My walks and gardens: then in every place  
The wheat crowned Ceres (with her head unshorn)  
Freely advanced her plenty bearing horn:  
The most delicious viands in full state  
Served to my tables in huge antic Plate:  
While plump Lyaens with green lvy crowned,  
Danced up to th' eyes in precious wine, a round  
Through my large Lobbies: then those sons of chine  
And pith, the Guard carowsd black jacks of wine  
In stead of single bear; then did they eat  
Wi●hout control that emperor of meat,  
The lusty chine of beef; while I did seem  
With magazines of plenty still to teem  
Without least fear of barrenness: the spring  
To me her beauties did as offerings bring,  
The glorious summer and rich autumn paid,  
Their blessings as my tribute: while this maid  
Was my imperial Mistress winter's breath,  
Had not the force to freeze my youth to death:  
Which then like the Arabian year was seen,  
With gorgeous face still flourishing and green.  
No civil broil or foreign fear did fright  
Me from my daily practice of delight;  
Justice was then returned again to earth,  
Those blissful times gave no sinister birth  
To foul oppressions; then within my frame  
Ne'er had been heard that so detested name  
Of a Monopoly; nor by Patent made  
Lawful, were injuries to every trade;  
But each one than did under his own vine,  
Eat his bread freely and carouse his wine;  
Which knew no Medium, then twixt those extremes  
Of white and claret; then the common themes,  
Of the glad people were full of joy and praise,  
Of those superlatively happy days.  
There were no clamours heard within my gates,  
Of men injustly robbed of there estates.  
By powerful Favourites: no faction than  
Reigned, less an emulation amongst men  
Who should do worthiest things. As in a hive  
The Bees small palace, where each one does strive  
Which shall most honey to the store-house bring,  
Defllouring those chaste virgins of the spring  
The azure violets, that hang down their heads,  
While they suck all their sweetness from their beds:  
With which their thighs fulfilled, they nimbly fly  
(Carrying that victim of their industry)  
Into the common dwelling, where they sing  
Triumphant paeans to their ayrey King:  
So'twas in me, each strived who should excel  
Others in acting the state's business well,  
Who could most frequent by th'world's eye be seen  
Ready in service to that virgin Queen.  
No tumults then, attempted were by th'rude  
And many-headed beast, the Multitude:  
(To whom the present times seem ever worst,  
Praising the past they never knew) they durst  
Not then in mutinous troops have past by me,  
As if they meant to fright bright Majesty  
Out of my bosom; then there was no strife  
Ith' Common wealth about religion rife.  
But all was peace and justice, which then grew  
Together like the Gemini. I knew  
No gaudy fashions then from giddy France  
Brought hither since to be the Courts mischance,  
Sick of that foreign pride, whose various dress  
Has ushered in effeminate wantonness.  
The Lords then in their native habit went,  
Which was as comely as magnificent.  
The Ladies than their genuine beauty's ware,  
Ignorant of the imposture of false hair:  
Nor did they their own red and white attaint  
With that foul treason against Nature, paint:  
But each one strived with cunning art to find  
New ways of virtue to adorn their mind.  
Such was my fate, so temperate and just,  
It ne'er knew riot, nor conversed with lust.  
Nor did my glories, when that virgins breathe  
Expiring seemed to bring the Island death,  
End or diminish. A new star broke forth,  
As bright and quickening from the boisterous North,  
Darting its cheerful influence through my rooms,  
Which did from mournful solitary tombs  
Resume their pirstine lustre: when great James  
Had past the Twede to view imperial Thames,  
Whose swans, in stead of their own dirgies sing  
Triumphant welcomes to the long wished King;  
Whose each look was a star, and every smile  
The sun that quickened, with new life, this Isle.  
This James who the two kingdoms did unite,  
As happy Henry the red rose and white:  
This James the darling and delight of fate,  
Borne for the Solomon oth'British State.  
This King of more than Kingdoms, all men's hearts;  
Monarch of letters, Emperor of arts:  
When he his happy peaceful reign begun,  
What plenteous streams of joy and bliss did run  
Through all my veins! what a full thronged resort  
Did beautify each corner of my Court!  
When arms, as useless, were hung up, no jar  
Was heard, no noise of home or foreign war.  
The Muses than did flourish, and upon  
My pleasant mounts planted their Helicon.  
Then that great wonder of the knowing age,  
Whose very name merits the amplest page  
In fame's fair book, admired Johnson stood  
Up to the chin in the Pierian flood,  
Quaffing crowned bowls of Nectar, with his bays  
Growing about his temples; chanting lays,  
Such as were fit for such a sacred ear  
As his majest●ck mysteries was; to hear,  
Whom he so oft pleased with (those mighty tasks  
Of wit and judgement) his well laboured Masks.  
Then those two thunderbolts of lively wit,  
Beaumont and Fletcher gloriously did sit  
Ruling the theatre, and with their clean  
Conceptions beautifying the comic Scene.  
And noble Donne (borne to more sacred use)  
Expressed his heavenly raptures; As the juice  
Of the Hyblean roses did distil  
Through the Alembeck of his nectared quill.  
Chapman-like Homer in me often reads  
His Odisses, and lofty Iliads.  
That I did rather than appear to be  
The world's best furnished learnedst Academy,  
Then the King's palace: who when fatal fire  
In its malicious fury did conspire  
To ruin part of my fair buildings; He  
Great James renewed with State and Majesty,  
Like to himself, that goodly fabric, which  
Is for materials, as invention rich;  
On polishd marble pillars, which shall stand  
To speak his fame, white this renowned Land,  
Free from the invasion of all foreign harms,  
Is walled about with ocean's watery arms.  
For which fair ornament I must bestow  
My graitude on worthy Inigo,  
Whose skill in fabric did direct each part  
Of that excelling frame with powerful art.  
Yet should I silent be, the very stones,  
So quaintly laid, will speak the praise of Jones.  
But now the sands of his full glass being run,  
In the imperial chair his royal Son  
(Whom heaven protect, and with a prosperous reign  
Grant to rule this fair Island, and maintain  
It in tranquillity and happy peace,  
To Justice and Religions full increase)  
Brave Charles succeeded. Then my joys renewed,  
As Eagles their old feathers being mewed.  
I with his vigorous presence warmed, grew young,  
My withered frame appearing far more strong  
Then at its first foundations; mirth and sports  
Like fairies trippidg through my happy Courts.  
When England's Charles the great in me was seen,  
To give a gracious welcome to his Queen,  
That flower of France, her sex's fairest pride,  
Maria Henrietta his dear Bride,  
Who with a numerous progeny has blessed  
The british Kingdom; which in peace and rest  
Was pregnant with felicity, until  
Like torrents falling from some lofty hill,  
Or like some sudden strome out of a cloud,  
Mischief came thundering from the North so loud,  
As'twould have wakened death; thence thence did rise  
Those tears which dwell in seas about mine eyes.  
Then 'gan my stately world admired head  
To shrink, when Charles a puisant Army led  
Into the field, with resolution hot,  
To tame the daring valour of the Scot:  
Who urged (it seemed) by some imagined wrong,  
Their confidence being as their force was strong,  
Came marching hitherwards: but yet white peace  
By its all powerful goodness caused to cease,  
Those so lamented discords; and did bring  
In safety to me, home my much loved King:  
And as a Taper which ere it expires,  
Collects together, its concluding fires;  
As 'twere to light itself to death, displays  
Ere it extinguishes a sudden blaze;  
More flaming glorious than it's perfect shine  
Could ere expand; so did those beams of mine  
Break forth, exteading a gay sickly light,  
And now's obvolved in an everlasting night:  
Since Charles his absence; as you've seen the air,  
Which yesterday was so serene and fair:  
Heavens forehead wore no wrinkles; curl its brow  
Into a thousand dusky furrows now:  
So 'tis with me, who am enforced to shroud  
My face, which yesterday contemned the cloud:  
That now obscures it; timorous to see  
That which increases still my misery.  
Where are those beauties now from whose each eye,  
Flew winged flames of love and majesty,  
That trope of Ladies, who so oft did gild  
My starely rooms with their own looks, which filled  
All my Dimensions with rays pure and bright  
As was in Paradise, the world's first light?  
Vanished like shadows, they no more appear,  
The Sun being set; death now inhabits here,  
And a continued dulness, now instead  
Of those soft measures which so oft were led  
Over my spacious floors there does intrude,  
Its meager self, that nothing solitude:  
In stead of music, such as by the spheres,  
And tuneful Orbs is breathed to enchant all ears:  
Upon my Turrets nightly there does howl,  
The most prodigious and portentous owl:  
Nothing but fear and terror in me dwells,  
Such as is resident in those dark cells,  
Where nought but death reigns; what contagious sin  
Of mine committed, 'gainst Great Charles has been  
The cause of his long absence, I am sure  
I'm in my innocence as clear and pure,  
As in my infancy: why then should he  
Inflict upon me, this sad destiny?  
Why should I languish like a fair young bride,  
Thus desolate, being causelessly denied  
The comfort of my spouse, who now in arms,  
Exposed is to the dangerous alarms  
Of a rude civil-war, which if a prayer  
Has power to qualify; I'll fill the air  
With Orisons, as zealous as my faith,  
Wit, or religion; nay invention hath  
Forced to produce: may these domestic broils,  
Like morning dew dry up, without those spoils,  
Of kingdom's fire, and bloodshed: May there be  
twixt King and subject such a Sympathy,  
As'twixt the soul and body, as each part  
By strict relation bears to th'head and heart.  
May the King love his subjects, they obey  
His just behests, till his great empire's sway,  
Be fixed and lasting in his name and blood,  
While this fair Island over looks the flood.  
Showers of continued blessings softly fall  
Upon him, that the wishes of White-Hall  
May prove true and prophetic: who must mourn  
In widowed sadness, till best Charles return.   

On the Death of the Right Honourable Francis Earl of Bedford.  
Elegy.  
WHat apparition's this? who is't that wears  
About him wrapped a crystal shroud of tears:  
Who is't that in death's mansion breathless lies  
In stead of tapers, having grief swollen eyes,  
Stuck round about his Hearse, what an amaze  
Begot by grief and wonder, here displays  
Sorrow in's blackest ensigns; as if all  
Mankind entombed were in this funeral:  
My admiration leaves me now each breath,  
Sighs in sad accents, glorious Bedford's death.  
The Iron soldier that i'th' rage of war  
Ne'er wept, when all his body was one scar:  
Nor sighed at groans of Infants, now does keep  
His Obit, and, like a soft Virgin, weep:  
The Courtier whom religion scarce would win,  
Ere to diffuse a drop for his loose sin:  
Now unconstrained part in this sorrow bears,  
And wears no other jewels, but his tears,  
Wrapped in sad cypress, mistletoe, and yew:  
Their Daphne laid aside the noble crew  
Of Phoebus' Priests lament him; till their cries  
Turn all to Epicedes and Elegies:  
Nay in this sad distemper of the State,  
When most men's softness varies into hate,  
All now contend in mourning to be chief,  
And know no other passion but their grief:  
He whose Illustrious virtues with his blood  
Joined, did entitle him both great and good:  
Who with a modest sweetness strived to win  
All men's affections, as if there had been  
In his pure essence multiplied, every part  
Of true nobility fixing in his heart;  
Which seemed the sphere where honour did reside  
Without the least formality or pride.  
Not like those curious great ones, who create  
Factions and strange distractions in the state,  
Who by malignant counsels strive to bring,  
Distempers on the Kingdom and the King:  
Who though their violent counsels overwelm  
The vessel strive to be advanced to th'helme.  
Like the sun's daring offspring, ne'er content  
Till they've atchiud the chariot's government;  
Which when their feeble sources cannot guide  
Like him they boast in great attempts t'o've died:  
No he was wise, and from ambition clean,  
Esteemed the truest safety in the mean:  
His actions being temperate and free  
From crime, except too much humanity.  
Who shall like Bedford now, instruct the age  
Both by example, and the patronage  
Of true religious piety, how to be  
Fruitful in works of public charity:  
Who with a noble and ambitious zeal,  
To increase the glory of the commonweal;  
Did those two works of wonder (which shall stand  
To speak his fame in after times to th' land;)  
Built Covent-Garden and (that spaciouss plain.)  
The Fens his cost and industry did gain,  
From the surrounding waters, where to show  
What a devotion his Intents did owe  
To heaven, (lest men its worship should neglect▪)  
In each a Church his bounty did erect:  
Such was his life, 
In Covent-Garden, at Thorny abbey in the Isle of Ely.  it never did enforce  
The great man's envy, or the meaners curse.  
And now his essence by that mortal war,  
'gainst nature deaths translated to a star:  
His Name shall live, while never dying verse  
Has power to hang fresh glories o'er his hearse  
Which shall ex●oll and dignify his Name  
Among the Nobles Hero'es, which old Fame,  
Has in its lasting Chronicles enrolled,  
In characters of rust contemning gold:  
Till to perpetuat Bedford's merited glory,  
He be his houses, nay this Nations story.   

On the right Honourable Henry Earl of Manchester, lord-privy-seal.  
Elegy.  
What reverend ghost is this which to my view,  
presents the shape of noble Montague:  
As if 'twould beckon me to's hearse, to come  
And sing his honoured Epicedium:  
I do obey thy summons, nay and boast  
The glory cast on me by thee fair ghost.  
Which I perceive now, to be truly he  
Who living bore the stile and dignity  
Of Earl of Manchester, and for the weal,  
Oth' Kingdom sat long time lord-privy-seal.  
He who when living truth's example stood,  
To teach great men how to be great and good:  
Nay to be wise and learned to act each part,  
Of their lives scene with virtue and with art,  
Which he made virtues handmaid, and with skill  
Managed his greatness without greatness ill:  
Who is't that has not in the fair pursuit,  
Of honour read the name of Montacute,  
That boasts itself derivitive to be,  
From those great ancient Earls of Salisbury,  
That did our English glories so advance,  
In all our Conquests over vanquished France:  
From whence this Earls descended, who did draw  
Conscience with silken chains to kiss the Law:  
All whose great Offices to his lasting grace,  
He passed exalted from Recorders place,  
To be th' King's sergeant, who did then prefer  
Him first chief justice, than Lord Treasurer;  
And after by his gracious free consent,  
Confirmed him of his council precedent.  
Hence knowing his integrity and zeal  
To justice, made him last Lord privy-seal.  
Can he then fall unpitied, and not have  
A thousand fluent eyes to wash his grave:  
Those men must mourn him surely who did by  
His judgements gain long banished equity;  
As if divine Astrea at his birth,  
Had flown on Turtles wings back to the earth;  
Her own just precepts freely to impart  
To him, and multiply them in his heart.  
And now he is immortal; lo from far,  
Me thinks I see the aged Manchester,  
Shine a new star in heaven, and with his bright  
And gilt refl●ction, beautify the light;  
Where he shall live for ever, and be read  
Here is in his works of piety, though dead  
His mortal frame be, yet his noble name  
Shall live eternizd, by the tongue of fame,  
And while th'world lasts, his All-mondo shall  
Stand candidate for honour, even with all  
The works of learned Writers, and his preys  
Be by time's hand adorned with wreaths of bays.  
Thus virtue can secure men dead, and give  
Life to their memories which shall ever live.   

On the Noble, and much to be lamented, Mrs Anne Kirk, wife to Mr Geo. Kirk, Gent, of the Robes and of his majesty's bedchamber, who was unfortunately drowned passing London Bridge, July 6. 1641. an Anniversary.  

ELEGY I.  
What tumor's this, that on the tongue of same  
Flies like a prodigy? as if it came  
To fright the Genius of the world with fears,  
Nay change its moving essence into tears:  
Now, now irrivocably flees the sound  
Her sex's pride; illustrions Kirk is drowned.  
See how bright troops of virgins, who from far  
Appear, resembling every one a star  
Drowned in a sea of pearl, do sadly rise  
From her loved urn, each one without their eyes,  
Wept out, or there left burning as they'd lent  
Those lights for tepers to her monument.  
See how the Matrons lay their tires aside,  
And only in their sorrow take a pride,  
Their sorrow which now beautifully wears,  
In stead of diamonds, carcanets of tears.  
Where shall we find a frame so fully graced  
With virtues in so rich a body placed?  
That it was truly held the unmatched shrine  
Of human beautie● mingled with divine:  
As if the heavens and nature did agree,  
In her to fix the greatest sympathy  
Could be between them; what was fair and good,  
Inclusive possibly in flesh and blood.  
Who with her gentle' 'haviour and deport,  
Did gain the love, not envy, of the Court.  
And yet she fell untimely; like a rose,  
Which in the morning sweetly does disclose  
Its purple beauties, till the winds in love  
Do with their frequent boisterous kisses move  
Its fragrant leaves so rudely, that ere night  
They withered fall; so she did, the delight  
Of womanhood and virtue; in whose grave  
Lie more than ere mortality shall have.  
Again to boast, whose glories shall (when all  
Her sex's Legends unapochryphall  
For truth and beauty) in fame's book be writ,  
As a large preface fix i'th' front of it.  
That when posterity reads the rape has been  
Acted by death on this bright Cherubin;  
The virgins may her annual Obit keep,  
And big with noble emulation, weep  
To understand their fexes richest store  
Consumed on her; Nature's become too poor  
To frame her equal beauty, or display  
Such art and wonder in succeeding clay.  
And though this Lady fell, the spoil of fate,  
Who with too rigorous haste did antedate  
Her day of destiny, nothing could be found  
Cruel enough to give that desperate wound,  
But the false waves, who as they meant to enshrine  
Her (whom they took for sea borne Ericine)  
In watery arms, officiously did skip  
With fluent motion from each lip to lip,  
Till being enamoured on her balmy breath,  
(Cruel in love) they kissed her even to death:  
And viewing then no more life to remain,  
Like Crocodiles they wept o'er her they'd slain.   

ELIGY II.  
THe year's revolved, and now once more is come  
The day in which she suffered martyrdom,  
And 'gainst the usual custom did expire  
In water, holily as those the fire  
Did sanctify for heaven, who used to take  
Delight to run to the flame-bearing stake.  
Had she like them been t'o've received her death,  
Ere the weak fire by the winds pregnant breath  
Could have been blown into a flame, our eyes  
Should have prevented tyrant deaths surprise,  
And let fall such a huge contracted tear,  
Able to quench fires element in its sphere  
This was the day, when that same subtle thief  
Fate stole earth's comfort hence, and cast a grief  
Perpetual as her virtues, o'er the face  
Oth' mourn●ull world, which can afford no place  
For mirth or sport, till celebrated be  
The annual requiems to Kirks memory:  
Which grows more precious, like rich mighty wine  
By being long kept; or relics in a shrine  
Preserved as sacred, which inviolate hold  
The Charter of their fame though ne'er so old.  
Wi●h what a serious grief do men relate  
Losses in their particular Estate;  
The toiling husbandman will many years  
After rehearse unto his rustic Peers  
His past misfortue, when the summer's heat  
Did blast his fruit, or mildews hoped for wheat.  
The greedy Merchant, if he do sustain  
A loss by shipwreck in the ●lattering maine,  
Sighs at its memory; which does still renew  
His wealth then drowned to his vexed fancies view.  
And must we not lament, are we not bound  
Upon the day when glorious Kirk was drowned▪  
When natures sweetest fruit did blasted fall,  
To solemnize with tears her funeral:  
Yes to diffuse a deluge, that as she  
By water met her pitied destiny,  
That element to expiate its black crime  
May spend its moisture on her dust, till time  
Dissolve; and we translated to the skies,  
(Where tears are wiped away from all men's eyes,)  
Exalted to her fellowship may be  
Her blessed companions i'th' felicity  
She with the Saints possesses; but till then  
Her loss must be the grief of all good men.  
FINIS.