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<DATE>2009-01-06</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Mona Logarbo</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
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<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B081153.pdcc.</ITEM>
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<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B03415">
<STC T="W">F32</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99886953</BIBNO>
<VID>181516</VID>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegy">
<PB REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 16 -->
<HEAD><FIGURE>
<P>MEMENTO MORI:</P>
<FIGDESC>outline of tombstone which surrounds poem, including emblems of death on top of domed tablet</FIGDESC>
</FIGURE></HEAD>
<HEAD>AN ELEGY On the Death of His Grace the Duke of Grafton.</HEAD>
<L>WHen fir&s;t around our I&s;le the News was &s;pread</L>
<L>(Ah, di&s;mal News!) the Noble Duke was dead.</L>
<L>Such was the &s;udden Tran&s;port of our Fears,</L>
<L>We were unwilling to believe our Ears;</L>
<L>But when the Confirmation of it came,</L>
<L>Ah, doleful News! Ah, di&s;mal Word of Fame!</L>
<L>Like Men intranc'd we &s;tood, and in amaze,</L>
<L>With gha&s;tly Eyes did on each other gaze.</L>
<L>But he is gone&mdash;</L>
<L>And he who&s;e Eyes bedew his &s;acred Urn,</L>
<L>Each pious drop into a Pearl will turn</L>
<L>To adorn his Hear&s;e: But he who none can vent</L>
<L>Doth bring more Marble to his Monument.</L>
<L>Him Heav'n a Pattern did for Heroes form,</L>
<L>Quick in Advice and eager to perform.</L>
<L>In Councel calm, fierce as a Storm in Fight;</L>
<L>Danger his Sport, and Labour his Delight:</L>
<L>To him the Fleet, and Camp, the Sea, and Field,</L>
<L>Did equal Harve&s;ts of bright glory yield.</L>
<L>Who can forget how Valliantly, how Free,</L>
<L>He did a&s;&s;ert the Empire of the Sea.</L>
<L>The <HI>Gallick</HI> Fleet endeavour'd but in vain</L>
<L>The Tempe&s;t of his Fury to &s;u&s;tain;</L>
<L>Shatter'd and torn before his Flag they flew,</L>
<L>Like Doves that the exalted Eagle view,</L>
<L>Ready to &s;toop and &s;eize them from on high,</L>
<L>With all the Wings of fear and ha&s;te do fly.</L>
<L>The glorious Feats this Valliant Duke hath done,</L>
<L>Hath <HI>Englands</HI> highe&s;t Admiration won:</L>
<L>And though in deepe&s;t Grief we mourn him gon,</L>
<L>We may rejoyce that he was ours &s;o long.</L>
<L>And if the Immortal dead do &s;ee, or know,</L>
<L>The various Actions of Mankind below,</L>
<L>Sure his bright Soul with kind concern looks down,</L>
<L>And breaths au&s;picious Wi&s;hes to the Crown.</L>
<L>How ble&s;t were we, had we the Ble&s;&s;ing known,</L>
<L>When we had Princely <HI>GRAFTON</HI> for our own;</L>
<L>But Heaven, that we our mighty Happine&s;s</L>
<L>Might truly under&s;tand, did make it le&s;s,</L>
<L>And did his Noble Soul from us remove</L>
<L>To encrea&s;e the Number of the Ble&s;s'd above:</L>
<L>Ye partial Heavens mu&s;t Princely Heroes thus,</L>
<L>Though they have liv'd like Gods, yet die like us.</L>
<L>Patience in &s;maller Evils may be &s;hown,</L>
<L>But oh! &s;uch Grief as this admits of none.</L>
<L>In vain we Hope and Sigh, in vain we Pray,</L>
<L>If what we Love mu&s;t thus be torn away:</L>
<L>But we confe&s;s with Grief, that Princes Breath</L>
<L>Is frail like ours, like us they &s;toop to Death.</L>
<L>And we mu&s;t own how fondly we began</L>
<L>To fancy <HI>GRAFTON</HI> &s;omewhat more than Man:</L>
<L>'Twas he who&s;e flaming Courage did di&s;dain</L>
<L>The &s;low Advances of a vulgar Man.</L>
<L>His early Years in bloody Wars did &s;how</L>
<L>What riper Age might for his Country do.</L>
<L>'Twas he who did in raging Fire and Storms</L>
<L>Defend the Crown our gracious King Adorns.</L>
<L>'Twas he who made the <HI>Iri&s;h</HI> Rebels Quake,</L>
<L>And trembling <HI>French</HI> their Trenches to for&s;ake;</L>
<L>But ah, he's gone!&mdash;</L>
<L>Excelling Prince, oh! once our Joy and Care,</L>
<L>Now our eternal Grief and deep Di&s;pair:</L>
<L>Whether were all tho&s;e careful Angels fled,</L>
<L>That were intru&s;ted with thy &s;acred Head?</L>
<L>Where were they then! how did they mi&s;employ</L>
<L>There Time, when thou did&s;t on thy Death-bed ly,</L>
<L>And bow'd thy Head to awful De&s;tiny!</L>
<L>Impartial Death, like <HI>Tarquin</HI>'s Wand,</L>
<L>The &s;oone&s;t reaches tho&s;e that highe&s;t &s;tand,</L>
<L>Letting Ignoble, U&s;ele&s;s, Shrubs alone,</L>
<L>And &s;trikes the &s;tately full grown Poppy down.</L>
<L>But when a Noble Heroe yields to Fate,</L>
<L>Then Sorrow ri&s;es in the greate&s;t State.</L>
<L>The &s;ullen'&s;t Mortal then will &s;hed a Tear,</L>
<L>And Death in all its grandure doth appear.</L>
<L>But oh! I've done, for whil&s;t to mind I call</L>
<L>His God-like Worth, the Tears like Rivers fall</L>
<L>From my &s;well'd Eyes, half langui&s;h'd now with Cares,</L>
<L>Shaded with Grief, and almo&s;t quench'd in Tears.</L>
</DIV1>
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<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="license">
<P>Li&s;en&s;ed,</P>
<CLOSER><DATELINE><DATE>Octob. 27. 1690.</DATE></DATELINE>
<SIGNED>J. F.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed by <HI>Richard Chee&s;e,</HI> Jun. in the Year 1690.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
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