AN
ELEGY
To the Memory of the Right Honorable
THOMAS
Earl of OSSORY,
Who depated this Life, July the 30th. 1680.
|
LEt no man our officious hast condemn,
|
that we the loss of so much worth proclaim
|
Want of his service soon had made it known,
|
And we are sure but just, the loss to own.
|
Since he is dead, there is no other way,
|
Our Gratitude for his Deserts to pay.
|
In his Distemper every Man took part,
|
For he had sure a share in every Heart.
|
To every honest Man, most dear before,
|
But by the unhappy loss endeard much more;
|
For tis a natural Vice with mankind born,
|
That still the Good which we possess, we scorn.
|
Never allowing Vertue past esteem,
|
Till the Grave snatch what we can nere redeem.
|
Yet soon as we the mighty loss sustain,
|
We pray, admire, and wish for it in vain;
|
How would we value it, if we hadtagain.
|
Just such was every English mans concern,
|
When of his Life they did the danger learn.
|
Well might they love him; one so just and good,
|
Much greater by his Vertues, than his Blood.
|
Who justly still ambitiond a good Name,
|
Yet lovd his Country, more than he loved Fame.
|
No fear of Death could ere his Courage stay,
|
Wherever dangerous Honour led the way;
|
For this he left his Ease and plenty still.
|
His natural Valour high improvd by Skill.
|
Hardned by danger, and by constant pain.
|
His Countries Good, his great, nay only Gain.
|
For that such wonders he in Fight has wrought,
|
For that at Land and Sea so often Fought.
|
Those different Forms of War he made his own,
|
And know both better, than most men do one.
|
In this our British World our God of War,
|
Great in his Martial-Acts, but greater far
|
In his untainted and firm Loyalty.
|
His constant and oft proved Fidelity
|
What to his Prince, what to the People due,
|
His honest Mind and searching Judgment knew.
|
And what he knew, He still to Act reducd
|
Hating meer notions that were nere of Use.
|
Betwixt these two so equally he moved,
|
That he by both was equally beloved.
|
A rare Example of a Worthy Lord,
|
His Princes Favour have, and Countries Word.
|
And to his great and everlasting pralse,
|
Even in these surly dark designing days;
|
These Times when most try openly their Skill
|
In making Parties, He was honest still.
|
By feignd Affronts nere his Duty led,
|
Base Faction for to Countenance or Hed
|
Oh that our Lords would their lost time Redeem,
|
And not so much admire, as Copy him!
|
Be good like Him, if they do like him be Great,
|
And be his Peers in Vertue as in State.
|
He whose great Worth all did so justly own,
|
That Rivals in his Honour, he had none.
|
To all as their deserts were, He was kind,
|
Still with right Judgment and unbiast Mind;
|
Great without Vanity, and without ends Just,
|
Humble tho honoured, faithful when in Trust.
|
The dangerous fruits of too great Praises He
|
Knew well, and to decline them [s]til! was free
|
The new distraction presently he knew,
|
Love without Fear, Praise without Envy drew;
|
The Country, Souldier, Souldiers Father too.
|
Should we all reckon, we should nere give ore,
|
But to Crown these and many Vertues more.
|
His Love to our Religion still was great,
|
Which he profest not as a Trick of State.
|
Lest he should Favour, or an Office want,
|
His Life as well as Faith was Protestant.
|
His Theme is boundless, who his praises sings,
|
Tho best of Servants to the best of Kings.
|
So after Years of pains and dangers past,
|
In Heaven deservedly he Rests at last.
|
Muse here lets end, and wish for time to come,
|
We nere want Ossoris, nor like him be dumb.
|
|
|
|
|
|