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<DATE>2008-11-04</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080928.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B03246">
<STC T="W">E435</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99885247</BIBNO>
<VID>182628</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 8 -->
<HEAD>An ELEGY On the Right Honourable Anthony Earl of <UNCLEAR>Shaftsbury,</UNCLEAR> Who dyed on <DATE>the <UNCLEAR>21<HI>&s;t</HI> of <HI>January</HI> 1683&punc;</UNCLEAR></DATE></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>THe Bu&s;ie State&s;men who by Toyls unble&s;t</L>
<L>Torment them&s;elves to give their Country Rest&punc;</L>
<L>Tho&s;e publick Great Fir&s;t movers of the State,</L>
<L>Who almo&s;t turn the Mighty Wheels of Fate,</L>
<L>Roul the va&s;t Stone like <HI>Sy&s;yphus</HI> in vain;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t Deaths la&s;t Call ends a whole Ages Pain&punc;</L>
<L>The Graves long <HI>Rubicon</HI> mu&s;t all pa&s;s o're,</L>
<L>Whence launching <HI>Cae&s;ars</HI> can return no more</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Farewell, Great <HI>Shaftsbury!</HI> Times Sythe can &s;tretch</L>
<L>Where Malice, Sword, and Axes ne'er could reach.</L>
<L>Thy Life, great State&s;man, &s;tood in Fate &s;o high,</L>
<L>That thou by nought but Heav'ns own Hand could&s;t die.</L>
<L>Yes, Heaven alone compiles thy Funeral-Urn:</L>
<L>Le&s;s than the Sun the <HI>Phoenix</HI> &s;hall not burn.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What did wi&s;e <HI>Solon,</HI> or <HI>Lycurgus</HI> do?</L>
<L><HI>Lycurgus</HI> dy'd, like Thee, an Exile too.</L>
<L>And whil&s;t proud <HI>Belgia</HI> thy Bones Entombs,</L>
<L>And triumps at the Glory it a&s;&s;umes,</L>
<L><HI>Belgia,</HI> who in thy Fate has now done more</L>
<L>Than all her <HI>Trumps</HI> or <HI>Opdams</HI> could before.</L>
<L><HI>Belgia</HI> has vanqui&s;ht more in thy one Grave,</L>
<L>Than all the Wounds her Thunder ever gave.</L>
<LG>
<L>Sleep then thou Activ'&s;t of Mankind. Oh make</L>
<L>Thy la&s;t low Bed, and Deaths long <HI>Requiem</HI> take;</L>
<L>Thou who whil&s;t living kept'&s;t the World awake.</L>
</LG>
<L>Oh may thy Funeral-Rites walk that large round,</L>
<L>Till to thy We&s;tern-&s;hore thy lo&s;s re&s;ound;</L>
<L>Till <HI>Carolina</HI> &s;hall in Mourning &s;tand,</L>
<L>With all the Cypre&s;s of a VVidow'd Land.</L>
<L>Let Fools and Knaves through their fal&s;e Opticks find</L>
<L>Thy Spots, and be to all thy Brightne&s;s blind.</L>
<L>Let Envy all her mon&s;trous Forms &s;ugge&s;t,</L>
<L>And lodge the Raven in the Eagles Ne&s;t.</L>
<L>Let 'em rail on, and vent their hurtle&s;s Gall,</L>
<L>VVhil&s;t <HI>Shaftsbury</HI>'s Renown &s;urmounts 'em all.</L>
<L>From his clear Fame the di&s;&s;olv'd Clouds &s;hall throw,</L>
<L>And leave the Earthly Vapours all below.</L>
<L>Yes, Mighty Man, lay thy great Reliques down,</L>
<L>Thou Idol of the croud, Dread of the Crown;</L>
<L><HI>Shaftsbury</HI> in popular Arts and Harts &s;o learn'd</L>
<L>As with his VVeight the Scale of Nations turn'd:</L>
<L>To him the Kingdoms Genius bended low;</L>
<L>The Thrones be&s;t Friend, or formidable&s;t Foe.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If the be&s;t Gifts which the kind Stars di&s;pen&s;e,</L>
<L>The highe&s;t Prodigies of VVit and Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>For Immortality Foundations lay;</L>
<L>No Greater Soul e're lodg'd in Walls of Clay.</L>
<L>Swiftly his re&s;tle&s;s Orb of Fire went round,</L>
<L>And light and warmth we from his Influence found.</L>
<L>His kinde&s;t Rays and temperater Heat</L>
<L>The Prote&s;tants &s;till-favour'd Climates met:</L>
<L>There his be&s;t A&s;pect &s;mil'd; whil&s;t <HI>Rome</HI> alone</L>
<L>Felt all the Fury of his Torrid Zone.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>This was the Cau&s;e did &s;uch great Foes engage</L>
<L>VVith &s;uch keen Malice, and &s;uch Mortal Rage.</L>
<L>For this &s;o high the <HI>Roman</HI> Vengance boyls</L>
<L>VVith Fires more hot that their old <HI>Smithfield</HI>-piles.</L>
<L>But Heavens kind Call has all their Engines cro&s;t,</L>
<L>Heav'n that has lodg'd thee on that &s;afer Coa&s;t,</L>
<L>VVhence thou look'&s;t down and &s;ee&s;t thy Mighty Hunters lo&s;t.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epitaph">
<HEAD>EPITAPH.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>UNder this Stone does Sleeping lye</L>
<L>All that was Earth of <HI>Shaftsbury.</HI></L>
<L>But Funeral-Tears and Weeping Eyes</L>
<L>Infallibillity denies.</L>
<L>Whil&s;t his wi&s;h'd Death's enough to be</L>
<L>The Subject of a Jubilee.</L>
<L>A more &s;worn Foe to <HI>Roman</HI> Pride</L>
<L>Not <HI>Hannibal</HI> him&s;elf e're dy'd.</L>
<L>For which his Deathle&s;s Fame below,</L>
<L>His Soul above&mdash; His Soul&mdash; Ah, no!</L>
<L>From Heav'n's lock'd out too &s;ure, if they</L>
<L>Who &s;ucceed <HI>Peter</HI> keep the Key.</L>
<L>Doom'd to Hells hotte&s;t burning Seas,</L>
<L>If the Popes Cur&s;e can do the Feat.</L>
<L>If Papel Rage and <HI>Roman</HI> Spight</L>
<L>For any but them&s;elves Hell-fire can light.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<HEAD>An ELEGY On the Death of (the much to be lamented) <HI><UNCLEAR>Anthony K&punc;</UNCLEAR>  of Poland&punc;</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>THe bu&s;ie <HI>Toney</HI> who by Toil unble&s;t</L>
<L>Torments him&s;elf, to break his Countreys Re&s;t;</L>
<L>Who, cea&s;ing to be Engineer of State,</L>
<L>Turn'd Rogue, yet could not turn the Wheels of Fate:</L>
<L>Like <HI>Sy&s;yphus,</HI> he rowls his Stone in vain;</L>
<L>Death plucks his <HI>Tap,</HI> and ends his PLOTS and Pain.</L>
<L>The Graves long <HI>Pampus</HI> Rebels mu&s;t pa&s;s o're;</L>
<L>Thence re&s;tle&s;s Raskals can return no more.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Wretch of 3 <HI>Names</HI> farwel! Thy Deaths kind &s;tretch,</L>
<L>Secures Thee from the Sword and Axes reach;</L>
<L>Thy Life, <HI>Old Tricker,</HI> &s;tood in Fate &s;o high,</L>
<L>That Hang-man's hand was fit to make Thee die;</L>
<L>Yes, Hang-man only frames Thy Funeral Urn:</L>
<L>Le&s;s man than Hang-man Traytors &s;hall not burn.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>What did Old <HI>Solon</HI> and <HI>Lycurgus</HI> do?</L>
<L>They went to <HI>Am&s;terdam,</HI> and died too.</L>
<L>Whil'&s;t <HI>Belgick Boor</HI> Thee and Thy <HI>Tap</HI> Entombs,</L>
<L>And tryumphs in the Brandy he a&s;&s;umes;</L>
<L><HI>Boor,</HI> who (in burying Thee) hath done much more,</L>
<L>Than <HI>Trump</HI> or <HI>Opdam,</HI> who were dead before;</L>
<L><HI>Boor,</HI> with bright Spade, does more in Thy one Grave,</L>
<L>Than in all Graves that his bright Spade e'r gave.</L>
<LG>
<L>Trick on, trick on, thou <HI>Will-with'-Wi&s;p!</HI> now make</L>
<L>New Broils in Hell, and never <HI>Requiem</HI> take,</L>
<L>With <HI>Plots</HI> and <HI>Popery</HI> keep the Devil awake.</L>
</LG>
<L>May Thy tormented Gho&s;t walk a large round,</L>
<L>And its de&s;erved Puni&s;hment re&s;ound,</L>
<L>Till <HI>Carolina</HI> &s;hall aga&s;ted &s;tand,</L>
<L>Mourning <HI>Kid-napper,</HI> who &s;upply'd her Land:</L>
<L>Let partial <HI>Whigs,</HI> through their fal&s;e Opticks, find</L>
<L>Thy Worth, and ever be, like Thee, <HI>half blind.</HI></L>
<L>Let Factious Varlets mon&s;trous forms &s;ugge&s;t;</L>
<L>Such Ravens &s;hall never croak i' th' Eagles Ne&s;t:</L>
<L>Rail on, <HI>Phanaticks,</HI> vent your envious Gall,</L>
<L>Your <HI>Toney</HI>'s Tapping Arts have &s;poil'd ye all;</L>
<L>From <HI>Meeting-hou&s;e</HI> di&s;&s;olved <HI>Tubs</HI> &s;hall throw,</L>
<L>And &s;neaking <HI>Tub&s;ter</HI> &s;end to th' Room below:</L>
<L>Yes, <HI>Mou&s;e-trap-man,</HI> Thy rotten Loins lay down;</L>
<L>Seducer of the Rabble, &s;corn o' th' Crown;</L>
<L>In Treach'rous Arts and Trayt'rous Hearts &s;o learn'd,</L>
<L>His weight all hands of Whim&s;ey-boards &s;till turn'd:</L>
<L>To him <HI>Rebellion's Genius</HI> bended low;</L>
<L>The Thrones <HI>Friend,</HI> when at th' Helm, when not, its <HI>Foe.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If the wor&s;t gifts <HI>Malignant Stars</HI> di&s;pen&s;e,</L>
<L>If mi&s;-applied &s;trength of Wit and Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>For la&s;ting Infamy Foundations lay,</L>
<L>No greater Kn<GAP DESC="illegible" EXTENT="3 letters"> was ever cloath'd in Clay;</L>
<L>His re&s;tle&s;s Orb of Shams went &s;wiftly round,</L>
<L>And none but Raskals his kind Influence found:</L>
<L>His gentler Rays, and Life-creating heat,</L>
<L>The Land of <HI>Whigs</HI> and <HI>Betty Morris</HI> met:</L>
<L>Th' unthinking Crowd he courted, and alone</L>
<L>He dreamt to domineer i' th' <HI>Briti&s;h Zone.</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But, lo&s;t in his own Maze, he doth engage,</L>
<L>VVith eager Malice, and with la&s;ting rage;</L>
<L>His Brain more hot than Copper-kettle boils,</L>
<L>In Shops of Cooks about <HI>Py-corner</HI>-Piles.</L>
<LG>
<L>But Hells kind Call hath all his Con&s;ults cro&s;t;</L>
<L>Hell, that hath plac'd him on a fiery Coa&s;t;</L>
<L>Through gla&s;s he peeps, and &s;ees his Tricks and Trick|ers lo&s;t.</L>
</LG>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epitaph">
<HEAD>EPITAPH.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>Under this Stone doth <UNCLEAR>rotting lie</UNCLEAR></L>
<L>All th' Devil has left of <UNCLEAR><HI>Shaftsbury</HI></UNCLEAR>:</L>
<L>No Funeral Tears, nor weeping Eyes</L>
<L>The melting <HI>Si&s;terhood</HI> denies;</L>
<L>Whil&s;t <HI>Mine-heer</HI> thinks his Death to be</L>
<L>A joyful <HI>Brandy-Jubilee.</HI></L>
<L>A firmer Friend to <HI>PLOTS</HI> and <HI>Pride</HI></L>
<L>In <HI>Holland</HI> heretofore ne'r dy'd;</L>
<L>For which His Odious Name below,</L>
<L>His Soul's above in <HI>Heaven.</HI> Oh no!</L>
<L>It found no Lodging there, if He</L>
<L>Speak Truth who always kept the Key:</L>
<L>Adjudg'd to &s;it i' th' hotte&s;t Seat,</L>
<L>The little Gue&s;t will do &s;ome Feat;</L>
<L>And a fre&s;h Fire in Hell will light,</L>
<L>To entertain the <HI>wand'ring Salamanca</HI>-Wight.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed <HI>Anno Domini,</HI> MDCLXXXIII.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
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