ON THE DEATH OF HIS GRACE The Duke of ALBEMARLE.  

WHO would on Greatness, or on Worth rely,  
When Hero's thus like common men must die?  
Could Virtue, Merit, or could Valour save  
Deserving Men, from the Impartial Grave;  
None surely could with so much Justice be  
Secured from Fate, Great Albemarle, as Thee;  
Whose mighty Actions to the World has shown,  
'Tis more to merit, than usurp a Crown;  
When generously You did refuse and scorn  
That usurped Titles should Your Name adorn,  
Esteeming it a far more glorious thing  
For to Restore, than be Yourself a King.  
Those Baits of Power which Empire did impart,  
Proved far too weak to tempt Your Loyal Heart.   

When Civil Broils (for our Offences hurled  
By Angry Heaven on our separate World,)  
Whose Rage almost Three Kingdoms had destroyed,  
And wrought a Ruin none could scarce avoid,  
Relenting Fate through pity then ordained  
You should those ills redress, our State sustained;  
And by an Act, as generous as unknown,  
Restore Our Sovereign to his Native Throne:  
Nothing could too, Your Prudence more declare  
Than the Wise Conduct of this great Affair.  
Through Tracts of Blood you did not Conquest trace;  
A Halcyon calm did all Your Triumphs grace.  
Those Powers which oft had Royal Arms withstood,  
You soon dispersed without one drop of Blood.  
Secure You wrought what Rebels scarcely feared;  
As Lightning kills before the Thunder's heard.  
Thus, through Your Noble Conduct we were blest  
From all the Toils of horrid War, with Rest.   

When not Content with what we did Enjoy,  
Unless Batavia's Traffic we destroy;  
A War's begun, which nothing did advance  
To either Nation, but make Potent France.  
Whilst on the Sea, others for Empire fight,  
In Court-Enjoyments You took small delight;  
Nor yet Content with former Glories gained,  
Unless You now, Your Countries Cause maintained.  
Victorious York did First the Dutch subdue,  
Their Second Conquest Fate reserved for You;  
Who so improved, what was before begun,  
As Belgic Fleets did from our Canon run;  
And whilst You Gen'ral on the Ocean Ride,  
No Hostile Fleet did on our Seas abide.  
These Glorious Actions proved that You could be,  
Great Albion's Patron both at Land and Sea;  
And with more Justice may that Title Clame,  
Than he who England does for Patron Name.  
He only helped a poor distressed Maid,  
You vanquished those, who did our Rights Invade.  
Rights, our 
(*) Selden.  great Antiquary proved to be  
As Ancient Ours, as is the British-Sea.  
Foreknowing Fate only ordained that He,  
Should prove an Emblem, and a Type of Thee.  
His fabulous Stories scarcely known, but You  
A Monster worse than that great Hero slew:  
A Monster used to Act such horrid things,  
As it durst shed the Sacred Blood of Kings.  
For which brave deed, Thy Name shall ever be  
Adored and Reverenced by Posterity.  
And may Auspicious Fate still grant that You,  
May as their Wonder, prove their Pattern too.   

But now at length Death claims, Great Sir, from You  
A Debt, as Mortal, was to Nature due.  
Nor can those Laurels Conquering bows adorn,  
Protect those Hero's that are Mortal born.  
Too well, alas, Th' Imperious Tyrant knew,  
He only You, could through Yourself subdue.  
In other Parts he vainly strove to wound  
Your too much Heart he only Mortal found.  
Thus to some Grove the aged Phoenix flies,  
Builds its own Nest, and through its own means dies.  
In Bloody Fields his Malice You defied,  
And like a Gen'ral in Your Chair You died.  
An Exit Your great Courage did befit,  
Which seemed to Conquer, when it did submit.  
Nature's great Debt You willing were to pay,  
Yet scorned to do it an ignoble way.  
And though YE are Dead, to future Age's fame  
With such Advantage shall, transmit Your Name,  
As no Oblivion shall thy Deeds obscure,  
As long as Time, or History endure.  
And be amongst our English Monarches laid,  
With all the Pomp a grateful Prince can give,  
Whilst in his Thoughts You shall for ever live.  
No Mausolaeum can secure Thy rest,  
Like such a Lodging in His Royal breast.  
Protected thus within that Sacred Place,  
Envy, nor Time, Your Merits shall Deface.  
Who would not then prove that Great Monarch's Friend,  
Who does His Kindness beyond Life extend;  
And to Your Memory nobly strives to pay  
Past Obligations in a generous way.  
Yet who like You, when Fate seemed most to frown,  
Saved an Usurped, Secured an Envied Crown,  
And Three Great Kingdoms did from Ruin free,  
Deserves those Honours which are paid to Thee.    

LONDON, Printed in the Year M.DC.LXX.