A panegyric, Upon My Lord Chief Justice Jeffryes HIS PICTURE.  

GReat Sculptors Art! I could for ever View,  
A piece so Just, so Lively and so True:  
A piece in which all may distinctly find  
Sure Indications of a Noble Mind:  
An aspect open, and a Brow that's Clear,  
Without the flattering, sly, insidious Leer:  
A Front that's aweful, yet a Friend may see  
The truest signs of Affability.  
An Eye so Keen, What Villain can have Sense,  
pierced by it's terror to pled Innocence?  
The Sturdiest Faction, must with shane Retire  
When from the Bench his Eyes shoot darting Fire.  
Where he does sit, and with an even Hand,  
Distributes Right and Justice through the Land:  
Justice to all that Sues he does afford,  
As Equal to the Peasant as the Lord ▪  
And what an Honest Conscience bids him do,  
To that, and Law, he dares be Just and True.  
Nor can his Justice be o'er ruled by those,  
Who to Defend the Church and Laws were choose:  
Yet when to Stephens chapel they repair,  
Worse then a Den, they made the House of Prayer.  
Sir George for England, Jeffryes hears the Cause,  
Jeffryes the Bulwark of the Nations Laws:  
Jeffryes the truly Loyal, truly Great,  
The mighty Atlas of our sinking State,  
In all things Brave, in all things Fortunate.  
If Athens once, and lacedaemon too,  
Both for their Laws and Judges famous grew,  
Then what may we, when Jeffryes has done more  
Than Solon or Lycurgus did before.  
The Name of Chief to many has been due,  
To none( My Lord) more justly than to You.  
Oh! Who is he that in so short a time  
Did to so high a pitch of Glory Climb?  
Where Constellation like, may he for ever shine.    

London, Printed by George Croom, at the Blew-Ball in Thames-street over against Baynard's Castle, 1684.