AN ELEGY On the DEATH of the DUKE of CAMBRIDGE, Which happened on the 12th of December 1677. being our shortest day of the Year.  

SInce Solemn Mourners the bright Day-beams shun,  
And with dim Tapers do supply the Sun;  
Since with their sable Curtains they exclude  
The Light, and every thing with Darkness shroud:  
The Heavens (as if they did our Grief foresee)  
Decreed that now our Longest Night should be.  
And yet, alas! too short 'tis to relate  
How much we lose by one untimely Fate.   

To tell how long we for a Manchild prayed,  
And how long that great Blessing was delayed;  
To tell at last there was a Manchild born,  
Which all our Prayers did into Praises turn:  
And how the Infant smiled, whilst in its Eye,  
We did its Father's mighty Genius spy;  
(A Genius, which thus propogated might  
The Present Age and Future too delight.)  
To tell what happy Dawning did appear  
To usher-in our new ensuing YEAR:  
And how a Morning STAR did Rays display,  
Which seemed to promise a long Summer's DAY:  
To tell how soon this LIGHT was overcast,  
And how our Joys, with the swift Shadows passed;  
How all those Grateful Piles which we did burn,  
Were damped with the Ashes of One Urn:  
To tell, in fine, how all our Mirth did die,  
And with the Royal BABE does buried lie:  
To tell this as we ought, Our NIGHT, I say,  
For many Months should be without a Day:  
Darkness should overspread our Hemisphere,  
(As in most Northern Climates) half the year:  
So should our Britain, like sad Rachel be,  
When She in Ramah wept so bitterly:  
The loss the same is, which did both befall,  
But that Hers single was, Ours general:  
And if Her Tears could make one Current, Ours  
Should flow like Rivers swelled with many Showers.  

So let us weep, till th' Voice of Heaven does deign,  
To bid us (as it Rachel did) Refrain,  
In hopes our Children shall come back again. 
Jer. 31. 15, 16, 17.    

'tis from our Royal JAMES his Virtuous Root,  
We pray & hope new Branches still may shoot,  
To make him known hereafter by his Fruit.   
Such Fruit must needs (like that of PARADISE,  
Be always Good and Pleasant to our Eyes.    

London, Printed by T. D. for H. Brome. 1678.