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<DATE>2008-01-24</DATE>
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<NAME>Emma Leeson Huber</NAME>
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<ITEM>Added TYPEs to DIVs in order to validate. Proofed title page(s). Checked ^s. Reviewed structure. Checked division-marking material at heads and feet of divisions (HEADS, etc.). Checked for signatures. Checked placement and completeness of PBs. Checked for damage GAPs, #s, @s,--s, and UNCLEARs.  Corrected 0 $s of 0.  Checked spacing of foreign GAPs. Checked for EPIGRAPHs and ARGUMENTs.  Checked for startqs, endqs, oes, q;s, and Qs. Checked proofsheets and made corrections found there. Checked for CLOSERs, TRAILERs, and BYLINEs. DONE.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="OX" ID="A84272">
<STC T="W">E379</STC>
<STC T="T">669.f.13[20]</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99869692</BIBNO>
<VID>162915</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
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<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<HEAD>AN ELEGIE
On the Death of Sir CHARLS LUCAS and Sir GEORGE LISLE.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>IN&s;pire me &s;ome prodigious <HI>Fury:</HI> all</L>
<L>The <HI>Mu&s;es</HI> are not enough Tragicall.</L>
<L>Hither you <HI>Leaguer Fiends</HI> from your black Tents;</L>
<L>Hell has but <HI>Three, Fairfax</HI> whole <HI>Regiments.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>A <HI>Pompy</HI>'s death <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> would cho&s;e t' enjoy,</L>
<L>His Butchers were an Eunuch and a Boy.</L>
<L><HI>Cannibals</HI> thus War not to <HI>reduce,</HI> but <HI>chew,</HI></L>
<L>As <HI>Ma&s;tiffs</HI> fight to <HI>worry,</HI> not &s;ubdue.</L>
<L>Lightning (heav'ns &s;word) bla&s;ts not, if not with&s;tood,</L>
<L><HI>Colche&s;ter's Bull</HI> deales tamely in cold Blood.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What plenteous harve&s;ts <HI>&s;torming</HI> brought the Towne!</L>
<L>Each <HI>&s;haver Tarquin</HI> lopt his poppy downe.</L>
<L>All your <HI>&s;hot, fire, &s;teele,</HI> &s;carce murdred one,</L>
<L>Your <HI>Mercy</HI> only was <HI>de&s;truction.</HI></L>
<L>Poy&s;on <HI>tooke in</HI> our certaine ruine is,</L>
<L>Serpents ne're &s;ting, but when th' embrace, and ki&s;&s;e.</L>
<L><HI>Scabbards</HI> &s;tab'd mo&s;t; no harme i'th' <HI>Cannons noat,</HI></L>
<L>The onely murdring piece was <HI>Fairfax throat.</HI></L>
<L>Quarter from Rebels, will di&s;patch or end;</L>
<L>The <HI>Devil's</HI> mo&s;t pernitious, when our friend.</L>
<L>When you &s;hould <HI>Cure,</HI> you <HI>bleed</HI> us to our grave,</L>
<L>The Booke does ne're condemne, but when 't &s;hould &s;ave.</L>
<L>If the King &s;cape by <HI>Rolfe,</HI> 'tis to be hurl'd</L>
<L>With Pa&s;&s;e, and Pi&s;toll, to another world.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Mu&s;t ye be fle&s;ht? &s;o &s;oone faces about,</L>
<L>The Town's not &s;tarv'd, the famine is without:</L>
<L>They're guiltle&s;&s;e &s;ure mu&s;t bid &s;o &s;oone adieu;</L>
<L>Or like the <HI>Devill,</HI> mu&s;t you damne 'em too?</L>
<L>Hor&s;e-fle&s;h <HI>is</HI> &s;ober <HI>meat:</HI> Fairfax <HI>dige&s;ts</HI></L>
<L><HI>Tigers</HI> and <HI>Wolves,</HI> and is him&s;elfe turn'd <HI>Bea&s;t:</HI></L>
<L>He keeps a Se&s;&s;ions, when he takes a Towne,</L>
<L>Councels of War <HI>are Juries,</HI> Buff Coats <HI>Gownds.</HI></L>
<L>His <HI>Standards Gibbets</HI> are; he needs mu&s;t fright,</L>
<L>His <HI>Phy&s;nomy's</HI> a funerall black and white.</L>
<L>Th' head quarters alwayes are at <HI>Tiburne;</HI> all</L>
<L>His power makes him but <HI>Hangman Generall.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Counter-march</HI> quickly all this Bloud: home, home</L>
<L>Le&s;t we mi&s;take the <HI>Devill</HI> for <HI>Black Tom.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>This <HI>League</HI> murders more, then <HI>Marten</HI> could</L>
<L>Spawne (in a <HI>Holland's Leaguer)</HI> Ba&s;tard brood.</L>
<L>Mu&s;t the <HI>Saints Fea&s;tivals</HI> be writ in <HI>Red?</HI></L>
<L>Or are ye <HI>Gods</HI> with <HI>bloud</HI> and <HI>victim's</HI> fed?</L>
<L>Thus, and &s;carce thus, <HI>Turks Conquer,</HI> and <HI>embrew;</HI></L>
<L><HI>Turks</HI> are no Saints, yet Conquer more then you.</L>
<L>If Executioners 'fore Reformers go,</L>
<L>Be <HI>Derrick</HI> henceforth <HI>Generali&s;&s;imo.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Fairfax</HI> and <HI>E&s;&s;ex</HI> &s;pell their <HI>Chri&s;tian brands,</HI></L>
<L>You'le find the &s;ame <HI>T. R.</HI> in all burnt hands.</L>
<L>Strange <HI>Parlies,</HI> which no Articles di&s;pen&s;e,</L>
<L>But &s;uch as di&s;patcht <HI>Laud</HI> and <HI>Strafford</HI> hence.</L>
<L>If to <HI>Capitulate</HI> be &s;uch a thing,</L>
<L>And Treaties mu&s;t end thus, <HI>God ble&s;&s;e the King.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Whil&s;t <HI>Nol,</HI> and <HI>Tom</HI> dividedly doe awe,</L>
<L>The Land's be&s;trid with th' <HI>Devils cloven paw.</HI></L>
<L>In <HI>Lilly's</HI> dreames the King is &s;till undone,</L>
<L>If &s;o, the&s;e are his <HI>Lanca&s;heire</HI> Mock&s;uns.</L>
<L>For they will both be Kings; <HI>Fairfax</HI> i'th' dre&s;&s;e</L>
<L>Of the <HI>Rlack Prince,</HI> and <HI>Cromwell</HI> of <HI>Q. Be&s;&s;e.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Ro&s;&s;iter, Lambert, Ireton</HI> too mu&s;t reigne,</L>
<L><HI>England</HI> will &s;uffer <HI>Heptarchy</HI> againe.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Come hallow'd quill, dropt from an <HI>Angels wing,</HI></L>
<L>Inke from that <HI>Font:</HI> (we now of <HI>Chri&s;tians</HI> &s;ing)</L>
<L>An <HI>O&s;tridge plume</HI> with <HI>aquafortis</HI> dre&s;s'd,</L>
<L>He that writes <HI>Lucas</HI> prai&s;e mu&s;t <HI>&s;teele</HI> dige&s;t:</L>
<L>His <HI>Epitaph,</HI> i'th' cripled <HI>Savoy</HI> &s;tands,</L>
<L><HI>Armele&s;&s;e trunkes</HI> there &s;hewes you his fatall hands:</L>
<L>All <HI>Ho&s;pitals</HI> his <HI>Monument</HI> con&s;pire,</L>
<L>Ev'ry <HI>maim'd piece</HI> pre&s;ents you him intire.</L>
<L>Thus his eternall fame &s;hall la&s;t as long</L>
<L>As <HI>Rebels</HI> halt; or <HI>Royali&s;ts</HI> have tongue:</L>
<L>Search <HI>Mar&s;ton-moore,</HI> and in <HI>Yorkes Records</HI> &s;eeke,</L>
<L>You'le find him writ in <HI>Stigmatiz'd Toms cheeke.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Such were his fierce <HI>Sallies,</HI> as &s;ome did doubt</L>
<L>Whether he <HI>rod,</HI> or had been <HI>di&s;charg'd out:</HI></L>
<L>Then at each <HI>&s;weep</HI> he made <HI>whole rankes</HI> to fall,</L>
<L>As if th' had duck't before a <HI>Cannon ball.</HI></L>
<L>Some he o'retakes <HI>and joynts at knees;</HI> you'd &s;weare</L>
<L>Their legs had fled, and left the bodies there.</L>
<L>Now they mu&s;t to't the Super&s;titious way,</L>
<L>Downe (&s;aies his <HI>Morglay)</HI> Villaines <HI>kneel</HI> and <HI>pray.</HI></L>
<L>He was the Townes be&s;t <HI>Wall;</HI> and O! to glutt</L>
<L>Revenge, this <HI>Royall Fort</HI> is made a Butt.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>On Cut-throates, on, perfect your game&s;ome rites,</L>
<L>Forward and backward &s;hoot, &s;et up two whites;</L>
<L>Proceed, let not your lucky mi&s;chiefes &s;lack;</L>
<L><HI>Royali&s;ts mourne,</HI> but your <HI>&s;oules were the black.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L><HI>Li&s;le</HI> defies Quarter: now his friends bloud's &s;pilt,</L>
<L>Your <HI>Charity's</HI> &s;in, your <HI>mercy</HI> will be <HI>guilt.</HI></L>
<L>Great &s;pirit, <HI>death's a</HI> Mi&s;tri&s;&s;e <HI>in his eye</HI></L>
<L>Or <HI>Nuptials;</HI> 'tis the &s;ame to <HI>ki&s;&s;e and dye.</HI></L>
<L>His <HI>Grave's</HI> as welcome as his <HI>Quilt</HI> or <HI>Downe,</HI></L>
<L>Would but his <HI>Gho&s;t</HI> walke, 'twould nigh clear the Towne.</L>
<L>Holland's <HI>to him a</HI> Coate of Maile; <HI>what crowds</HI></L>
<L>Did his <HI>thin Newbery &s;hirt</HI> &s;end to their &s;hrowds?</L>
<L><HI>They had not</HI> Braines <HI>to</HI> judge, <HI>nor</HI> hearts to fight,</L>
<L>But ran and thought the Devill was turn'd white.</L>
<L>He vengance hurl'd like a pale di&s;mall &s;tar,</L>
<L>Or th' milkie Genius of an innocent War.</L>
<L>No need of <HI>&s;words</HI> to have the <HI>Rebels</HI> &s;ped;</L>
<L>H'had &s;oul enough to <HI>Li&s;pe</HI> whole &s;quadrons dead.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Farwell brave <HI>Twins of valour;</HI> may no &s;purne</L>
<L>Of Rebels foot light heavy on your Urne:</L>
<L>We all &s;hall wait upon <HI>your fate;</HI> this year</L>
<L>Starv'd <HI>Colche&s;ter</HI> will &s;oone be every where.</L>
<L><HI>Plenty</HI> and <HI>Lucas</HI> fled at once, this I&s;le</L>
<L>Together wants a <HI>Summer and a Li&s;le.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Your Graves are <HI>meritorious, Wharton</HI> lies</L>
<L>Still in his <HI>Sawpit,</HI> and will never ri&s;e.</L>
<L>Your <HI>Loyall hunger,</HI> and your <HI>leane Alarmes,</HI></L>
<L>Was better then to feed <HI>Pyms loath&s;ome &s;warmes.</HI></L>
<L>Your glorious &s;oules are free, whil&s;t others have</L>
<L>A Conquerour who to his Gout's a &s;lave.</L>
<L>Old <HI>Fairfax</HI> Corn's ill cut, there goes to wrack</L>
<L>Weather-wi&s;e <HI>Booker</HI> and an <HI>Almanack.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Their wounds are &s;till i'th' <HI>legges,</HI> you know the &s;pell</L>
<L>O'th' Greek, they were dipt too in <HI>Styx and Hell.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Ro&s;&s;iter's</HI> halfe dead; 'tis well he's &s;o much man;</L>
<L>But <HI>geldings</HI> &s;erve for th' worke <HI>E&s;&s;ex</HI> began.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Their Church is <HI>militant;</HI> and doth appeare</L>
<L><HI>Triumphant</HI> too; for why? their heav'n is here.</L>
<L>Th' Army's the <HI>holy League;</HI> all for <HI>Saints</HI> go</L>
<L>Becau&s;e their Murders make all others &s;o.</L>
<L>May they be <HI>Angels</HI> too; and when they fall</L>
<L>Like <HI>Jacobs Angels</HI> upon <HI>ladders</HI> all.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
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