MEMENTO MORI  AN ELEGY On the Right Honourable William Earl of Pembroke Who deceased on the 29th, of August, 1683.  

What are the Glories that by Fame accrue  
What are the Praises that to Virtues due?  
Which Mortals do enjoy, till't pleases Death,  
To Dam the Channel, of enliuning Breath.  
Just as the winged Atoms fly with light,  
So they do fall when that approaches Night.  
So when grim Death our Vitals doth invade,  
We turn to Dust; our former Deeds will fade.  
The Censure of the living is but hard,  
And Hero ' of their due of times debarred  
Posterity doth seldom rightly Deem,  
And Envy always lessens the Esteem,  
That we for Generous Spirits ought to have,  
When't pleases Fate to lay them in the Grave.  
But what do I hear? brave Pembrook's Dead,  
And from its Mansion, his great Soul is fled.  
Yet ' Spite of Death, his Name shall never Die▪  
Whilst others sink his shall surmount the Sky,  
Ah! Cruel Death, what made thee thus Surprise  
Him who was Loyal, Noble, Just and Wise,  
Him who was Valiant, Liberal, and Good,  
Whose Bounty did extend to all the stood  
In need; and those 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
He timely Succour 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
Yet these his Vrtues, Envy sought to Raze.  
Stirred up Detraction, to defeat his Praise:  
Pernicious Brood that doth infect our Soil,  
And hath engendered homebred Strife, and Toil.  
Who are continually with Vipers fed,  
To sting the Living, and devour the Dead.  
Yet spite of their Attempts, great Pembrook's Name  
Shall eternised be, by truer Fame.  
Great Souls they all partake of what s Sublime,  
And though some Actions tainted be with Slime  
Yet this doth not retard their course at last,  
They stem the Tide, o'ercome the threatening blast;  
Great Pembrook's Course isended, and now he,  
A Hero is, to all Eternity.  
His Memory will last, for from his Dust;  
The Epithet will rise, of Wise and Just.    

EPITAPH.  

Within this Urn enclosed lies,  
Mortal remains of Just and Wise:  
His better part hath taken flight,  
And Hope abides, where's no more Night,  
He who a Tear denies,  
H●●● little pity, h●●●●●d Eyes    

LONDON Printed By ●. Mallet. 1683.