AN ELEGIE
On the death of the Right Honourable
JOHN WARNER,
Late Lord Mayor of LONDON.
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THe sweetest, fairest, and the best of flowers,
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Lose their choise rarity in a few run hours:
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The wandring, glorious stars, when night is done
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Go down, and vail their bodies to the Sun:
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And when great Phoebus riseth in a flame
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To view the throne of darknesse, and proclaim
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Joy to all drowzy Mortals, and doth say,
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Rise slumbering Man, arise, and welcome day.
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The Moon ashamed of her pale face, doth shrowd
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Her, in the bosom of some darkened cloud:
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And thus among earths Lamplets, there is one
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This day gone down, and left our darkened throne;
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A glorious Star indeed, whose shining name
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Was blown by Honour, and the breath of Fame:
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His heart was faithfull, vertuous, and his face
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Was drest with greatnesse, goodnesse, truth, and grace:
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Vertue and wisdom taught him what to do,
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To unite all by love, and Justice too.
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His lips, the lips of knowledge, in his eye
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Sate both humility, and Majesty;
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There was high Honour, yet fidelity,
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There brightnesse sate in vertues bravery.
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He sate in Honours Chair untill the last,
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In spite of Envy, or her nine dayes blast:
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His house was here on earth, his heart above,
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He lived in loyalty, and died in love.
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Oh, had he shined still, his Orient light
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Might make us blush to see our oversight!
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But he is gone: Times hour-glass being run,
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This Star went down to meet the morning Sun.
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Thus vain is earthly pomp, the flourishing Crown
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Of earthly royalty, death trampleth down.
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Thus is our wealth but want, our flower fades,
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Our light is darkness, and our sun-shine shades.
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Thus is our Honour lost; thus like a Theam
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Is earth, and Dignity is but a dream.
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Thus is our glory grass, our bravery breath,
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Our light is darkness, and our life is death:
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And if they promise more, they do but lie,
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'Tis but a dream; go earth, lie down and die:
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Go earth, lie down and die, go see
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The gallant confines of eternity:
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Go to Elyzium, go to Paradise,
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Where all the ancient Heroes live in bliss.
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Go dwell in endless glory, till thou tire
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Times swift foot-race, for time cannot expire
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Thy lasting joy: go live above thy name,
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That rides on lofty wings of flying fame.
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Earth is too base to dwell on, go and pass
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Those streets of Gold, like to transparent glass,
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And shining glittering pearl, whereon each Gate
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Is built: go kiss the Lamb emaculate,
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Go put on robes of glory, go and be
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Swallowed with endless immortality.
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There is no Sun, nor Moon, no clouds, nor rain,
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No frowns, nor fortunes, nor corrupted gain;
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No curious gardens, nor no costly fare,
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No stately buildings, nor no worldly care;
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Nor no ridiculous smiles, no jests, nor play,
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No recreation, nor no holy-day;
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No drinking, cursing, swearing, nor abuse,
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No sin, no shame, no sorrow, nor excuse;
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No slavery, guile, nor slander, nor sedition,
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No cozening fraud, nor goggle-ey'd suspition;
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No rape, no theft, no murder, nor no fear,
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Dwels in high glory, though they wander here:
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But high unmeasured joy, and amity,
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And love, and peace, and vertues rarity,
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And Pearls, and Onix, and the Jasper stones,
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And Palms, and Crowns, and Kingly royall thrones;
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And ravisht Allelujahs, which the brest
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Of Angels warble in eternall rest.
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Go earth, lie down and die; and to thy trust,
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Oh earth, we recommend his Honoured dust
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To lie and slumber, till his aged eyes
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Shall wake from deaths dark lullabies:
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Untill the trumpet sounds, and heaven shall say,
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Rise from the dead all Mortals, come away:
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And if thy Monument shall leave his trust,
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And turn to ashes like thy mouldring dust,
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Thy fame that cannot die, shall be
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A Monument in the worlds memory.
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Alas, and is this all that earth can do?
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Away vain glory, go, be intombed too.
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