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<DATE>2007-12-05</DATE>
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<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B071027.apex.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="A85054">
<STC T="W">F2531A</STC>
<BIBNO T="oclc">36282163</BIBNO>
<VID>150067</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
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<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 11 -->
<HEAD><FIGURE>
<P>MENENTO MORI</P>
</FIGURE></HEAD>
<HEAD>A <HI>FUNERAL ELEGY,</HI> IN COMMEMORATION Of the &s;adly Deplored and much-Lamented and Unhappy DEATH of that Unfortunate Knight, Sir John John&s;ton; Who was Executed, at <HI>Tyburn,</HI> <DATE>the <HI>23th.</HI> day of <HI>December,</HI> 1690.</DATE> for Felloniou&s;ly forcing away the Lady <HI>Wharton,</HI> an Infant, <HI>&amp;c.</HI></HEAD>
<P><TEXT>
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<DIV1 TYPE="license">
<P>LICENSED, according to Order.</P>
</DIV1>
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</TEXT></P>
<LG>
<L>SIth unto me, Unworthy, you commit</L>
<L>This worthy Task (for better Mu&s;es fit)</L>
<L>To Sing (nay rather, &s;adly to deplore)</L>
<L>This common Lo&s;s, that nothing can re&s;tore.</L>
<L>You, Sacred Brood, born of Cele&s;tial Race,</L>
<L>You Virgin-Youths, that poure down the Grace</L>
<L>Of Arts and Learning on your Servant, dear,</L>
<L>Vouch&s;afe A&s;&s;i&s;tance to my <HI>Mourning</HI> here:</L>
<L>Teach me &s;ad Accents, and a weeping Mea&s;ure,</L>
<L>To &s;train forth Pity, not <HI>Revenge</HI> and <HI>Plea&s;ure.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>And you, my <HI>Private Cares</HI> (although the cau&s;e</L>
<L>Of your De&s;pairs; does never; never Pau&s;e)</L>
<L>Pau&s;e you a little, and give ear a-while,</L>
<L>'Mid&s;t <HI>publick</HI> Griefs, my private to beguile.</L>
<L>Give leave, I pray you; for a <HI>private</HI> Ca&s;e</L>
<L>Unto a <HI>publick,</HI> ever mu&s;t give place.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Alas! how fitly is this Life of ours,</L>
<L>Compar'd to Field Gra&s;s, and to fading Flowers?</L>
<L>Fre&s;h, green and gallant, in the Morning-Sun,</L>
<L>Wither'd and Dead, before the Day be done!</L>
<L>Did ever yet the Worlds bright Eye behold</L>
<L>(Since fir&s;t th' Eternal Earthly Slime enfoul'd)</L>
<L>A Frame of Fle&s;h, &s;o Glorious here beneath,</L>
<L>But hath been ruin'd by the rage of <HI>Death?</HI></L>
<L>Of <HI>Death,</HI> dread Victor of all Earthly thing,</L>
<L>Who in a moment equals <HI>Clowns</HI> with <HI>Kings.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>No <HI>Wealth</HI> can wage him, nor no <HI>Wit</HI> prevent him;</L>
<L>No lovely Beauty can at all relent him:</L>
<L>Nay, (which is wor&s;e) no Virtue can avail;</L>
<L>Ah me! that <HI>Death</HI> on <HI>Virtue</HI> &s;hould prevail!</L>
<L>But 'tis decreed, Death is the Mead for Sin;</L>
<L>This, by <HI>Ambition,</HI> did our Grand-Sire win:</L>
<L>And We, the Heirs both of his <HI>work</HI> and <HI>wages,</HI></L>
<L>Mu&s;t all Dye once, throughout all after-Ages.</L>
<L>And Here, for in&s;tance, &s;ee this Sable <HI>Hear&s;e,</HI></L>
<L>Shrowding the Subject of my Mournful Ver&s;e!</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What &s;halt thou &s;ee more, far more living here?</L>
<L>This Heaven, this Sun, thou oft before ha&s;t &s;een;</L>
<L>And &s;hould'&s;t thou live another <HI>Plato</HI>'s Year,</L>
<L>This World would be the &s;ame that it hath been,</L>
<L><HI>Death</HI>'s end of Ills, and onely Sanctuary,</L>
<L>Of him that cannot '&s;cape the <HI>Grudge</HI> and <HI>Gall</HI></L>
<L>Of a Potent and Mighty <HI>ADVERSARY:</HI></L>
<L>It is a Point, which Heaven appoints to all.</L>
<L>There's Re&s;t Eternal for thy Labours, ri&s;e;</L>
<L>There's for thy <HI>Bondage,</HI> boundle&s;s <HI>Liberty:</HI></L>
<L>There when Death endeth, &s;he begins thy Life:</L>
<L>And where's no more Time, there is Eternity.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>Printed for <HI>J. Millet,</HI> at the <HI>Angel,</HI> in <HI>Little-Brittain.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
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