BIND ye my browes with mourning cypariffe, And palifh twigs of deadlie poplar tree, Or if fome fadder fhades ye can devife, Thofe fadder shades vaile my light-loathing eie: I loath the laurel-bandes I loved beft, And all that maketh mirth and pleasant rest,
If ever breath diffolv'd the world to teares, Or hollow cries made heaven's vault refound; If ever shrieks were founded out fo cleare, That all the worlds waft might heare around: [cries, Be mine the breath, the teares, the shrikes, the Yet ftill my griefe unfeene, unfounded lies.
Thou flattering Sun, that ledft this loathed light, Why didft thou in thy faffron-robes arise? Or foldft not up the day in drearie night? And wakft the wefterne worldes amazed eies? And never more rife from the ocean,
To make the morn, or chase night-shades again.
Heare we no bird of day, or dawning morne, To greet the fun, or glad the waking eare: Sing out ye fcrich-owles lowder then aforne, And ravens blacke of night; of death of driere: And all ye barking foules yet never seene, That fill the moonleffe night with hideous din.
Now shall the wanton Devils daunce in rings In everie mede, and everie heath hore: The Elvifh Faeries, and the Gobelins: The hoofed Satyres filent heretofore: Religion Vertue, Mufes, holie mirth Have now forfworne the late forfaken earth.
Religions hold, Earth's choice, and Heaven's love, Patterne of Vertue, patron of Mufes fage: All these and more were Whitaker's alone, Now they in him, and he and all are gone.
Heaven, Earth, Nature, Death, and every Fate, Thus fpoild the careleffe world of woonted joy: Whiles each repin'd at others pleafing state, And all agreed to work the world's annoy: Heaven ftrove with Earth, Destiny gave the doome,
That Death fhould Earth and Nature overcome,
Earth takes one part, when forced Nature fendes The foul, to flit into the yeelding skie: Sorted by death into their fatal ends, Forefeene, forefett from all eternitie: Deftinie by Death fpoyl'd feeble Natures frame, Earth was defpoyl'd when Heaven overcame. Ah, coward Nature, and more cruell Death, Envying Heaven, and unworthy mold, Unweildy carkaffe and unconstant breath, That did fo lightly leave your living hold: How have ye all confpir'd our hopelesse spight, And wrapt us up in Griefes eternall night. Bafe Nature yeeldes, imperious Death com-
Heaven defires, durft lowly duft denie? The Fates decreed, no mortall might withstand, The fpirit leaves his load, and lets it lie.
The fenceleffe corpes corrupts in fweeter clay, And waytes for worms to wafte it quite away.
Now ginne your triumphes, Death and Destinies, And let the trembling world witneffe your waft: Now let blacke Orphney raise his gaftly neighes, And trample high, and hellish fome outcast:
Shake he the earth and teare the hollow skies, That all may feele and feare your victories.
And after your triumphant chariot, Drag the pale corpes that thus you did to die, To fhew what goodly conquefts ye have got, To fright the world, and fill the woondring eie: Millions of lives, of deaths no conquest were, Compared with one onely Whitakere,
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