An elegiac memorial of the Right Honourable general DEANE, &c.  

Aetatis suae 42.   depiction of the tomb of General Richard Deane, 1610-1653.  

BE dumb ye Muses who speaks rightly Him  
Needs the high Accents of a Seraphim,  
A Cherubs quill, & so perhaps his Verse  
May not profane (though it approach) his hearse.  
The ancient and the modern Hero's seem,  
Compared to ours, a poor low barren Theme:  
Poets and flatterers raised them to the skies,  
And who were scarce good men made Deities.  
Like China-dishes hid an age in mould,  
By great-grand children Gods and Saints enrolled.  
They from men's fancies after death did grow:  
This was a Saint on Earth, a Star below.  
The ethnic, Roman, calendars are crossed,  
What they pretend t'have found we're sure w'have lost  
Their actions after death still greater grew  
By lying legends; His, in the world's view,  
Stand high above the Paraphrase of men,  
And need no flattering, fear no envious pen.  
Hence then Detractors, for (if understood)  
The ill of him was better than your good.  
An humble soul hid in a stern aspect  
The perfectest friendship in supposed neglect.  
A learned head without the boast of books,  
A devout heart without affected looks.  
His great profession did in practice lie,  
Religion locked up in sincerity.  
Nature and Grace did two extremes unite,   

To make a blessed sincere hypocrite.  
This present Age had never known his worth,  
Had not high Providence produced him forth,  
To stop the floods of greatness, and chastise,  
The insolence of swelling Monarchies:  
And by his acts the purblined world convince,  
Who chain Nobility unto the Prince.  
A Princely soul he had, though country-born,  
That greatness could chastise, teach, use, and scorn.  
He in himself drew the Epitome  
Of a complete well-governed monarchy.  
Where reason ruling did the sceptre sway,  
To which the rest did willingly obey;  
If his Affections 'gan rebellious grow,  
Religion quickly forced them to bow;  
Whilst in his dealings following Justice laws,  
By exercise her noble habit draws,  
Till at the length her Champion he is made,  
And her defence converts into his Trade.   

Then long ten years he posteth to and fro  
To help th'oppressed and suppress the foe:  
For whom three generals had a high respect,  
For council wise, and valour to effect:  
Till, England cleared, he curbs the British broils,  
Then into Ireland sails (Herculean toils!)  
The Irish men, or rather Roman Frogs,  
He makes for safety leap into their Bogs.  
But he must leave them there, a greater cause  
Commands his presence (maugre Neptune's laws)  
The swelling Seas and crossing tides can't part  
Brave Deane from him for whom he kept his heart.  
Let others chase the Pirates, he on shore  
Must serve his general till Wars give o'er:  
Who having quite subdued the numerous Scots  
Their Government unto his Dean allots;  
Where he achieves another Victory  
Over their hearts by honest gallantry;  
Whilst wise men judged it a propitious doom  
Unto their land so to be overcome.  
For now his greatest business seems to be  
To keep their factious selves in unity;  
He at their instance climbs the rugged hills  
And darksome Groves that Caledonia fills;  
Whilst the fell Natives stand aloof and gaze,  
From craggy Rocks, in a profound amaze,  
To see the horsemen march in places where  
They never saw aught but the wildest Deer:  
And in affright their chiefs come falling down,  
And vow they'll ne'er more plunder Field nor Town.  
His march was a quick journey, his retreat  
A pleasant walk with little blood or sweat.   

And now may he in pleasure rest a while  
With his dear consort, and the time beguile.  
In Dalkeith turrets or her shady groves  
Whilst to her Lute she sweetly sings their Loves.   

But this soft music thundering Cannons mar,  
Which send quick tidings of approaching war.  
And is a Duty or a Danger near  
On Land or Sea, and Noble dean not there?  
Away he shoots like to a Star that brings  
The tidings of the fall of States and Kings:  
A Star in motion, brightness, influence,  
He doth not lead the Dutch, but drive them hence;  
Twice beats them, first from Ours, then to their walls,  
Which done, alas our Star to Heaven falls.  
And it was time, so saw great Providence;  
'Twas time to call this Heavenly spark from hence:  
His growing lustre might have dimmed us all;  
His value did percipitate his fall:  
For had he held his Course some few more years  
The world (with me) had turned Idolaters.   
Sic fatur lachrymen. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Th: Tw:   

LONDON: Printed by M. S. for Tho: Jenner at the South-Entrance of the royal Exchange. 1653.