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<ETS>
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<DATE>2008-07-05</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B080619.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04662">
<STC T="W">P1039AA</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886861</BIBNO>
<VID>181354</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 9 -->
<HEAD>AN ELEGIE Upon the Never Satisfactorily deplored Death of that Rare Column of PARNASS&V;S, M^R^. IOHN CLEEVELAND.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>IS <HI>CLEEVELAND</HI> Dead? and not one weeping Pen</L>
<L>Vote him in Text <HI>The Miracle of Men?</HI></L>
<L>Can the great Monarch of the Two-topt Hill</L>
<L>Vi&s;it the Shades? who&s;e Star-encountring Quill</L>
<L>Had He but darted at in&s;ulting Death,</L>
<L>That pale-fac'd Tyrant had re&s;ign'd his Breath,</L>
<L>Tribute to <HI>Lycambes</HI> Collar. Re&s;i&s;t</L>
<L>His lighte&s;t La&s;h, Take him as <HI>Satyri&s;t</HI></L>
<L>No Mortal can. Snaky <HI>Medu&s;a</HI>'s Head</L>
<L>With one prick of his Neb he could &s;trike dead;</L>
<L>His &s;ublimated Style mo&s;t ju&s;tly mocks</L>
<L>A Mu&s;e that can't let-Blood the craggy Rocks.</L>
<L>And can his Laurel wither? Alas! He</L>
<L>As his owne Deme&s;n hath Eternitie.</L>
<L>Great <HI>CLEEVELAND</HI> &s;corns the Grave, and cannot Die,</L>
<L>Before an Exhalation to the skie</L>
<L>Gives fire with's flaming Beard, and &s;hall pre&s;age</L>
<L>Some viperous Cur&s;e to cauterize this Age:</L>
<L>How then pre&s;umes this abhorr'd Scrietch-Owle Fame</L>
<L>To intrude &THgr; into <HI>CLEEVELAND</HI>'s Name?</L>
<L>He to whom Poets mu&s;t in Homage fall,</L>
<L>And beg from<GAP DESC="illegible" REASON="damage" EXTENT="1 letter">s Ver&s;e their <HI>Sen&s;es Fe&s;tivall.</HI></L>
<L>But ah! Fame's tipp'd with Truth, his &s;oaring Soule,</L>
<L>That was both <HI>Arctick</HI> and <HI>Antarctick</HI> Pole</L>
<L>To Poe&s;ie; has filed off Her Clay,</L>
<L>And Eagle-wing'd di&s;&s;ects the Milky way;</L>
<L>And with undazled Eyes a&s;cends as far</L>
<L>As the Eight Sphere, where She the Sixteenth Star</L>
<L>Makes of the fir&s;t Magnitude. And conjoynt</L>
<L>With her A&s;&s;ociates, lends this Terrene Point</L>
<L>A Loving Glance: while&s;t we with drowned Eyes</L>
<L>Deplore our Earth, Envy the now ble&s;t skyes.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Stupid <HI>A&s;tronomers!</HI> who&s;e &s;en&s;ele&s;s Brain</L>
<L>The Middle Region is of Snow, Hail, Rain;</L>
<L>Did ye not by con&s;ent avow, This Yere,</L>
<L>No Black <HI>Eclip&s;e</HI> &s;hould Mask our <HI>Hemi&s;phere?</HI></L>
<L>And yet with De&s;pair &s;ee how <HI>Greys-Inne</HI> Sun</L>
<L>Twelve Digits is Eclips'd, Muffled, O'rerun.</L>
<L>Re&s;ume your <HI>Jacobs-Staffs,</HI> and with them take</L>
<L>The <HI>Altitude</HI> of Truth, your gro&s;s mi&s;take</L>
<L>Cancel, with a Prediction far more True</L>
<L>Than <HI>Priam</HI>'s cha&s;te&s;t Daughter ever knew.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Till the va&s;t Fabrick of the World &s;hall Burn</L>
<L>Without Repair, and become its owne Urn,</L>
<L>Boldly a&s;&s;ert, Men wi&s;ely may de&s;pair,</L>
<L>To &s;ee a Mu&s;e Merit the <HI>Curule Chair</HI></L>
<L>So much as <HI>CLEEVELAND</HI>'s. How? Nay, for to &s;ee</L>
<L>One that might make an Halting Simile.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Foretel the VVorld that there &s;hall &s;hortly be</L>
<L>Of Elements but a Triplicitie.</L>
<L>The Mu&s;es &s;wear by <HI>Styx,</HI> Their &s;howring Eyes</L>
<L>Shall offer up the Earth a Sacrifice</L>
<L>To <HI>Neptune</HI>'s Trident. This not &s;purs our Fears,</L>
<L>VVho are all ready pickled up in Tears.</L>
<L><HI>Apollo</HI> turns Clo&s;e-Mourner, Burns his Bayes;</L>
<L>And nothing fly, but Melancholy Brayes</L>
<L>From <HI>Pega&s;us</HI> Hor&s;e Throat. Fount <HI>Caballine</HI></L>
<L>For Sand hath Salt, the VVater being Brine.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The <HI>Phoenix</HI> robs the VVardrobe of the Ea&s;t</L>
<L>(VVhen extreme Age indigitates Her Ne&s;t,)</L>
<L>Of the mo&s;t fragrant Spices: And dares Dy,</L>
<L>VVithout a Cheer-up from a Stander by.</L>
<L>The Sun's Executor; and lets Her have,</L>
<L>As 'tis Her VVill, a Cradle, and a Grave.</L>
<L>Her Daughter crawles out fir&s;t: Then learns to flye,</L>
<L><HI>Probatum e&s;t: <HI>the Way to live's, to Dye.</HI></HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Could a much flatter'd Hope, create Belief,</L>
<L><HI>Albions</HI> rare <HI>Phoenix</HI> &s;hould Revive; our Grief</L>
<L>Should end in <HI>Paeans:</HI> And thy Altars round</L>
<L>A Thou&s;and <HI>Hecatombs</HI> with Garlands crown'd,</L>
<L>(Great <HI>Jove</HI>) &s;hould Low, whil&s;t Wits in greatfull Crowds,</L>
<L>With Acclamations &s;hall unrip the Clouds.</L>
<L>Alas! we cannot Beg His Life, of Fate,</L>
<L>Were &s;weet <HI>Cyllenius</HI> our Advocate:</L>
<L>Not though in Thunder, <HI>Jove</HI> commands Reprieve,</L>
<L>To &s;ee the Light will <HI>Minos</HI> give Him leave;</L>
<L>And yet although 'tis frivolous to crave</L>
<L>An <HI>Habeas Corpus</HI> from the Hated Grave;</L>
<L>Yet &s;hall the <HI>Pallas</HI> of Thy Laureat Head,</L>
<L>Of <HI>Carian Mau&s;olaeum</HI> &s;tand in &s;tead.</L>
<L>Thy Brain has had Immortall I&s;&s;ue, which,</L>
<L>Till Earths Grand Calcination, &s;hall Enrich</L>
<L>Thy Name with Radiant Glory. We no Mu&s;e</L>
<L>Will invocate but Thine. Thee we will chu&s;e</L>
<L>Our <HI>Patron,</HI> Our <HI>Apollo.</HI> He who Climbs,</L>
<L>Rea&s;on t' Embroyder with high Vaulting Rhymes,</L>
<L>That &s;corns His Nur&s;es Words; And counts it cheap</L>
<L>To o're-top <HI>Saturn</HI> at one fiery Leap;</L>
<L>Who&s;e Plea&s;ure makes <HI>Vulcans</HI> tri'd Anvile yield;</L>
<L>Can force <HI>Archilochus</HI> to run the Field;</L>
<L>Whom <HI>Cato</HI> cals, the Glory of His Age;</L>
<L>And hath Mens Admiration as his Page:</L>
<L>Such, Such a Soule, may Vaunt Him&s;elfe to be</L>
<L>A Dim Re&s;emblance of Thy Mu&s;e and Thee.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Adieu Dear Sir! We Mortals will prove Ju&s;t,</L>
<L>Alwaies adoring Your mo&s;t &s;acred Du&s;t.</L>
<L>The Earth on You lay light: VVhile&s;t heavy Hearts</L>
<L>In Sighs and Throbs &s;hall act our Tragick Parts.</L>
<L>Ever &s;it Thou Enthron'd ith' Peoples Vogue,</L>
<L>Thy Feaver being Nam'd <HI>Wits Epilogue.</HI></L>
</LG>
<DIV2 LANG="lat" TYPE="epitaph">
<HEAD>EPITAPHIUM.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>IActare fas e&s;t, dives, O dives Marmor!</L>
<L>AErarium Magni cineris es <HI>CLEEVELANDI.</HI></L>
<L>Sub te Sepultus, qui potis mori Non e&s;t.</L>
<L><HI>Virgilius</HI> Hic e&s;t <HI>Anglicus: Tullius</HI> Hic e&s;t.</L>
<L>Ad alta &s;emper cum &s;ua tetendit Mu&s;a,</L>
<L>Alti&s;&s;imam ambit nunc Poe&s;in: In Coelo,</L>
<L>Inde&s;inenter cantitans <HI>Hallelujah.</HI></L>
<L>Dum Naenias celebramus atras &s;tillante</L>
<L>Oculo, Viator! &s;is Tui memor Bu&s;ti:</L>
<L>Elugeas <HI>Cata&s;trophen</HI> Hanc <HI>Parna&s;&s;i.</HI></L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>T. P. <HI>Gen.</HI> Norfolcien&s;is.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><HI>VIATOR ILICET.</HI></Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
</DIV2>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P>London, <HI>Printed by</HI> W. Godbid, <HI>for</HI> Henry Mar&s;h <HI>at the</HI> Princes Arms <HI>at the Lower end of</HI> Chancery Lane, <HI>near the</HI> Inner Temple <HI>Gate in</HI> Fleet&s;treet, 1658.</P>
</DIV1>
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