An elegy. VPON The truly lamented Death OF Sir John WOLSTENHOLME, Knight; WHO On the 〈…〉 of November, 1639. Quitted the lower World, and put on Glorious immortality. By Fra. Quarles. LONDON, Printed by Tho. coats, for N. Alsop; and are to be sold at the angel in Popes head Alley. 1640. TO My honourable Friend, Sir John WOLSTENHOLME Knight. Sir, THe virtues of Parents are Freehold, but their memory is entayl'd, either Oeconomically, upon posterity; or pollitically, upon all: under this Title I claim; and having, like the Bee, sucked hony from his Thyme, J present it to you, to sweeten his Name from the Odours of his own Flowers. How far I stand from flattery; J appeal: What J have done, is but a small posy, gathered out of his Garden: Happy is he, whose hearse can be stuck with such flowers: Sir, such is my confidence, that I question not your gentle Acceptance, for his sake that loves you and yours; But J aclowledge it a fuller Testimony of my affection then his worth, though short of both: For the last, the world will supply: for the first, let your goodness excuse The Servant to his Memory and your merits, FRA. QVARLES. Greg. in Hom. SIc mors cum venerit, vincitur, si priusquam veniat, expectatur. Greg. sup. Math. Mors Justorum bonis est in adjutorium; malis, in testimonium. Bern. in Ep. Mors Justi bona, propter Requiem; melior propter novitatem; optima, propter securitatem. An elegy. 1 AWake, you slumbering sons of Art, and rouse, Your fancies fuddl'd with the sacred streams: You need not steep your line-creating brows, A minit longer, in your airy dreams: See, here's a Subject for you, will infuse Such tides of Matter, that you need not use The help of Art, or once implore a Muse. 2. Broach not the vessel of your strong Invention, Nor let your Fancies lick your rugged rhymes; Let your menditious tears beg no attention, Or crave assistance from th'ungratefull Times; See, here's a subject for you, that will tear, The Portalls open of the deafest ear, And force the hardest Marble to a tear. 3. Come, come, ye Masters of th'eternal Quill, That keep the Records of surviving glory; In spite of dust, and death, that can, and will Preserve our Names in your immortal story; Record his memory, and enrol his Name, Whose living worth the full mouth trump of same, Is proud to vent, and glories to proclaim. 4. Death, that great bugbear of this sinful earth, Whose power no strength, no stratagem can resist, Whose very Name dissolves the soul of mirth, Can tyramnize no further than you list: Th'immortal dames, in your immortal view, Curse their vain tackling, leave their idle Clue, And can not work their ends, forbid by you. 5. Else had the Glory of this Man of men lain like his dust, entombed, had not the wing Of glorious famed preserved it for your Pen, As a fit subject for the world to sing; Else had this great example chalked the ways Of Honor but to us, and lost the praise, And imitation of succeeding dayes. 6. Flow then, my Quill, and let thy sable Tides Weft thy rich treasure to the worlds wide ears: fear not to let thy prizes be descried; sighs be thy Impost, and thy custom, tears proclaim thy lading: say, thou are repleat With all those sum-lesse sums, that did complete, And make the Name of Wolstenholme so great. 7. Great is his Name indeed; yea, even so great, As gracious virtue' inseparably joined With moral worth, can make; made more complete With the rich Gifts of Fortunes, as of mind Made greater yet, in being truly blessed With a calm conscience, in a smiling breast, With living Honor, and a dying Rest. 8. How far his ancient lineage hath conveyed His gentle Blood to these unhappy times, Will crave discourse too ample to be made The proper subject of our pursy Rhymes; Nor need we borrow honor from past dayes, To piece his worth: H'as left enough to raise A perfect pyramid to his own praise. 9. Iudgement was palac'd here; and to his heart, well-grounded wisdom was a welcome Guest; The righteous virgin ruled his better part, And kept a Court of Chaunc'ry in his brest●. Truth banished eare-corrupting Error hence, Grace clipped the wings of faith-controling Sense, And with his wisdom mingled Innocence. 10. Knowledge was treasured here; knowledge refined In wisdoms Furnace, from her drossy pride, The high Ambition of whose humble mind Was but to know his frailty and his Gulde: The vastness of his knowledge did extend, A large circumference, whose point did tend, To th' Center of his God, himself, his end. 11. Love, and true friendship, here, went arm in arm, And sweetened all his actions; in his eye Ingenuous mildlesse did present a charm, Too stout for rude Rebellion to deny: Within the palace of his loyal breast, crowned with unblemished faith did sweetly rest A single heart: He was what he professed. 12. Mirth, taught to smile by the serene suggestion Of secret peace, adorned his cheerful brow: His conscience could not ask too hard a question For his faire Innocence to answer to, If ever ugly Guilt should chance t'appear Before his Eye, or whisper in his ear, His pensive faith would cleanse it with a tear. 13. Noble were all his Actions, just and free; Prudently simplo, providently wise: Not vaunting so, that every eye should see; Nor yet so close, to be afraid of eyes: His great employment, took a pride to wait Vpon the common good, and did relate, To the Honor of his God, the Church, the State. 14. Or if thy yet-enquiring eye inspect His private Actions, they will blazon forth A pious heart, and gloriously reflect Vpon the honour of his Name, his worth: His prudent hand did neither loosely wast, Nor hide his Talent; His full hand did cast His bounteous Bread for every want to taste. 15. Peace-nurrisht Plenty did not onely wait Vpon the welcome of his cheerful board, But fairly sacrifiz'd before his Gate; alms came, unasked; and Plenty, unimplor'd: No whining voice was ever heard to call: The blessed Portalls of his bounteous Hall, Were, every day, become an hospital. 16. Quick sighted Envy, hear may snarl, and bark, And gnaw her viperous tongue, or burst for spite; Her spleene-fed malice ne're had such a mark; Her poisoned shafts had ne're so faire a white: His name's an Antidote that can repel The very Quintessence of asps, and quell The black Artilry of malicious Hell. 17. Rest happy soul, and let unfrighted sleep, crown thy blessed urn with unmolested peace; And let glad Abra'ms glorious bosom keep Thy better part in joys that never cease: Triumph, enthroned with thy angelic peers, And let Hosannaes fill thy sacred ears, Whilst we embalm thy ashes with our tears. 18. Sorrow,( a name as much unknown to thee, As thy full joys to us) must fill our breasts; And we poor mortals are condemned to be A prey to sadness, whilst thy Spirit rests discharged of discontented earth, and free From all those damps,& fleshly qualms, that we, Blind to thy gains, have through the loss of thee. 19. Tis not a private loss, whose easy date, Determines with a sigh; and so an end: The Church hath lost a Patron; and the State, A loyal Servant; and the poor, a Friend: The Oeconomicke shoulder onely bears A single burden, and it quickly wears; But Panik sorrows must have Panik tears. 20. Victorious passion here, triumphs and reigns With Reason in an equal Diarchy; Now, public loss, and not his private gains Are the sad object of our tearefull eyes; And then, the joy of his Joy-entred soul Cancels those tears: ourselves, ourselfs controule, And even what we congratulate, we condole. 21. Wipe off those tears, or if they needs must fall; Take a new Object, to redeem their loss; They'l serve thee to lament thyself withall: Better retail'd, than lavished out in gross: Husband thy fountains well: Thou needs not fear The danger of a second Deluge there If thou but drop for every sin a tear. 22. You that desire to leave a lasting story, Wherein your Names may live for ever crowned; Here, gaining Honor; and hereafter, Glory; In life rewarded, and in death renowned; Behold your great Example; in whose ways, Can you but lead your progress, ye shall raise eternal Trophies of immortal Praise. The End.