108
Elegie,
On Francis, Earle of
Rutland.
Call not the Winds! nor bid the Rivers stay!
For though the sighs, the teares they could repay,
Which injur'd Lovers, Mourners for the Dead,
Captives, and Saints, have breath'd away, and shed;
Yet wee should want to make our sorrow fit
For such a cause, as now doth silence it.
Rutland! the noble, and the just! whose name
Already is, all History, all Fame!
Whom like brave Ancestors in Battaile lost,
Wee mention not in pitty, but in boast!
How did'st thou smile, to see the solemne sport,
Which vexes busie greatnesse in the Court?
T'observe their lawes of faction, place, and Time,
Their precepts how, and where, and when to climbe?
Their rules, to know if the sage meaning lies,
In the deepe Breast, i'th shallow Brow, or Eyes?
For though the sighs, the teares they could repay,
Which injur'd Lovers, Mourners for the Dead,
Captives, and Saints, have breath'd away, and shed;
Yet wee should want to make our sorrow fit
For such a cause, as now doth silence it.
Rutland! the noble, and the just! whose name
Already is, all History, all Fame!
Whom like brave Ancestors in Battaile lost,
Wee mention not in pitty, but in boast!
How did'st thou smile, to see the solemne sport,
Which vexes busie greatnesse in the Court?
T'observe their lawes of faction, place, and Time,
Their precepts how, and where, and when to climbe?
Their rules, to know if the sage meaning lies,
In the deepe Breast, i'th shallow Brow, or Eyes?
Though
