GREAT Saint, believe it, though I come
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A Later Elegy than some,
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Whose Numbers have adornd thy Tomb:
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An equal Zeal inspires my Verse,
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To say thus to thy Loyal Herse.
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O happy Herse! that didst contain
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One whose Ingenious Active Brain
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Unriddld all the Plots of State,
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Without a Pro or Con Debate.
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One, who the Nation came to save,
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But was prevented by the Grave.
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Some inauspicious Star did dart
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His Influences at his Heart,
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And snatchd away his better Part.
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Now since our Captain quits the Field,
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And does to th Greater Hero yield;
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What will befal Church Militant,
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When such a Soldier it doth want?
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What will the Learned Levis Tribe
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Think, But that Death sure took a Bribe,
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And by some Seminary Priest
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In a Physicians Habit drest,
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Has sent him to Eternal Rest?
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And say, Ah! little did we think
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A Pillar of the Church should sink,
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Now when the Antichristian Fox
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May worry us and all our Flocks;
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That Babylonish, Scarlet Whore,
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Who makes her busness to devour.
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Next to the Reverend Church, the State
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Condoles its most unhappy Fate,
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Mourning that surreptitious Death
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Should take away that precious Breath,
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Which, if it had survivd the Time
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Of Wishd-for Parliament, this Rhyme
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Had silent been, and He alone
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Had blown a Trumpet of his own.
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Great Patriot! tho obscure by Name,
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Thy Deeds have filld the Mouth of Fame,
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Thy Works shall live, and ever be
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A Lasting Monument of thee:
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