AN elegy On the death of the Right Honourable John WARNER, Late Lord Mayor of LONDON.  
THe sweetest, fairest, and the best of flowers,  
Lose their choice rarity in a few run hours:  
The wandering, glorious stars, when night is done  
Go down, and veil their bodies to the Sun:  
And when great Phoebus riseth in a flame  
To view the throne of darkness, and proclaim  
Joy to all drowsy Mortals, and doth say,  
Rise slumbering Man, arise, and welcome day.  
The Moon ashamed of her pale face, doth shroud  
Her, in the bosom of some darkened cloud:  
And thus among earth's Lamplets, there is one  
This day gone down, and left our darkened throne;  
A glorious Star indeed, whose shining name  
Was blown by Honour, and the breath of Fame:  
His heart was faithful, virtuous, and his face  
Was dressed with greatness, goodness, truth, and grace:  
Virtue and wisdom taught him what to do,  
To unite all by love, and Justice too  
His lips, the lips of knowledge, in his eye  
Sat both humility, and Majesty;  
There was high Honour, yet fidelity,  
There brightness sat in virtue's bravery.  
He sat in honour's Chair until the last,  
In spite of Envy, or her nine days' blast:  
His house was here on earth, his heart above,  
He lived in loyalty, and died in love.  
Oh, had he shined still, his Orient light  
Might make us blush to see our oversight!  
But he is gone: Times hourglass being run,  
This Star went down to meet the morning Sun.  
Thus vain is earthly pomp, the flourishing Crown  
Of earthly royalty, death trampleth down.  
Thus is our wealth but want, our flower fades,  
Our light is darkness, and our sunshine shades.  
Thus is our Honour lost; thus like a theme  
Is earth, and Dignity is but a dream.  
Thus is our glory grass, our bravery breath,  
Our light is darkness, and our life is death:  
And if they promise more, they do but lie,  
'Tis but a dream; go earth, lie down and die:  
Go earth, lie down and die, go see  
The gallant confines of eternity:  
Go to Elysium, go to Paradise,  
Where all the ancient Heroes live in bliss.  
Go dwell in endless glory, till thou tire  
Times swift foot-race, for time cannot expire  
Thy lasting joy: go live above thy name,  
That rides on lofty wings of flying fame.  
Earth is too base to dwell on, go and pass  
Those streets of Gold, like to transparent glass,  
And shining glittering pearl, whereon each Gate  
Is built: go kiss the Lamb immaculate,  
Go put on robes of glory, go and be  
Swallowed with endless immortality.  
There is no Sun, nor Moon, no clouds, nor rain,  
No frowns, nor fortunes, nor corrupted gain;  
No curious gardens, nor no costly fare,  
No stately buildings, nor no worldly care;  
Nor no ridiculous smiles, no jests, nor play,  
No recreation, nor no holiday;  
No drinking, cursing, swearing, nor abuse,  
No sin, no shame, no sorrow, nor excuse;  
No slavery, guile, nor slander, nor sedition,  
No cozening fraud, nor goggle-eyed suspicion;  
No rape, no theft, no murder, nor no fear,  
Dwells in high glory, though they wander here:  
But high unmeasured joy, and amity,  
And love, and peace, and virtue's rarity,  
And Pearls, and onyx, and the Jasper stones,  
And Palms, and Crowns, and Kingly royal thrones;  
And ravished Allelujahs, which the breast  
Of Angels warble in eternal rest.  
Go earth, lie down and die; and to thy trust,  
Oh earth, we recommend his Honoured dust  
To lie and slumber, till his agedeyes  
Shall wake from deaths dark lullabies:  
Until the trumpet sounds, and heaven shall say,  
Rise from the dead all Mortals, come away:  
And if thy Monument shall leave his trust,  
And turn to ashes like thy mouldering dust,  
Thy fame that cannot die, shall be  
A Monument in the world's memory.  
Alas, and is this all that earth can do?  
A way vain glory, go, be entombed too.  
Jeremiah Rich. Fecit.