MEMENTO MORI:   outline of tombstone including emblems of Death which surrounds text  
AN ELEGY, On the Death of Algernon Sidney Esq Who was found Guilty of HIGH-TREASON, AND Beheaded at Tower-Hill on Friday the 7th of December, 1683.  
7. Dec. 1683  

WOnder not (Reader) if you here descry  
satire usurp the place of Elegy;  
No deep fetch't sighs, no tears, nor mournful Verse,  
Must e'er attend an old Rebellious Hearse:  
Traitors like stately Tapers set on high,  
Blaze for a while, then dwindle, stink, and Dye.  
Th' Apostate Angel since from Heaven he fell,  
Smells of th' loathsome, sulphurous stench of Hell,  
An odious wretched Name is still the fate  
Of Rebel man, when e'er he proves ungrate.  
Ungrateful Sidney! See the ill success  
Of Rampant and Triumphant wickedness!  
Justly the Axe must cut his thread of Life  
Who vainly spent his Threescore Years in strife.  
When Traitors pulses beat so wondrous high,  
To blood a Vein is the securest way.  
An old staunched Rebel, cursed at his Birth,  
A Foe to Heaven, and a Plague to Earth.  
Early in Treason he began t' excel,  
Would in his Cradle scratch, by't, and Rebel.  
As strength increased, so Spite and Malice reigned,  
And still prevailed o'er his ill tempered mind.  
Fierce was his humour, furious was his Zeal,  
A fond admirer of a Common-weal,  
This made the Rebel Saint with cursed Sword,  
In wrath, pursue the Anointed of the Lord.  
His Lawful King in all things he withstood,  
Till now ne'er cloyed with fulsome draughts of blood,  
Then farewell Sidney! now expect no more  
To sport and roll in Royal Purple gore.  
All your Rebellious cheats must have an end,  
For Heaven its Vicegerent will defend.  
Th' Almighty Thunder justly when he nods.  
Shakes the proud Fabric of these Demigods.  
Republic Monsters that would Heaven invade,  
By's powerful word with Earth are level made.  
Gigantic Commonwealth's Men thus are hurled,  
From distant Sky's, into the lower World.  

Learn then by Sidney's fate, the Factious Crew  
Good, Honest, Loyal methods to pursue  
Nor seek another Sov'ragn to undo;   
If once you're pardoned show your penitence,  
No more such base, vile wretches to commence,  
But if you are resolved to be perverse  
Then gall and satire shall be mixed in Verse.  
For those who'd apt to murmur and Rebel  
No Lecture's fit for them but Death, and Hell.    

The EPITAPH.  

REader, if Whig thou art, thou'lt laugh  
At this insipid EPITAPH.  
Oh fie! get Onions for thine Eyes,  
For here thy Patron Sidney lies.  
But where's his wand'ring Spirit gone,  
Since here he suffered Martyrdom?  
To Heaven. Oh! it cannot be,  
For Heaven is a Monarchy.  
Where then I pray? To Purgatory.  
That's an idle, Romish Story.  

Such Saints as he can't go to Hell?  
Where is he gone I prithee tell,  
The Learned say t' Achitophel.     

London, Printed by George Croom, at the Blew-Ball in Thames-street, over against Baynard's Castle, 1683.