Hee that would write an Epitaph for thee,
And do it well, must first beginne to be
Such as thou wert; for, none can truly know
Thy worth, thy life, but he that hath liv'd so;
He must have wit to spare and to hurle downe: 5
Enough, to keepe the gallants of the towne.
He must have learning plenty; both the Lawes,
Civill, and Common, to judge any cause;
Divinity great store, above the rest;
Not of the last Edition, but the best. 10
Hee must have language, travaile, all the Arts;
Judgement to use; or else he wants thy parts.
He must have friends the highest, able to do;
Such as _Mecœnas_, and _Augustus_ too.
He must have such a sicknesse, such a death; 15
Or else his vaine descriptions come beneath;
Who then shall write an Epitaph for thee,
He must be dead first, let'it alone for mee.
[On _&c._ _Also in Corbet's Poems 1647_]
_An Elegie upon the incomparable D^{r} DONNE._
All is not well when such a one as I
Dare peepe abroad, and write an _Elegie_;
When smaller _Starres_ appeare, and give their light,
_Phœbus_ is gone to bed: Were it not night,
And the world witlesse now that DONNE is dead, 5
You sooner should have broke, then seene my head.
Dead did I say? Forgive this _Injury_
I doe him, and his worthes _Infinity_,
To say he is but dead; I dare averre
It better may be term'd a _Massacre_, 10
Then _Sleepe_ or _Death_; See how the _Muses_ mourne
Upon their oaten _Reeds_, and from his _Vrne_
Threaten the World with this _Calamity_,
They shall have _Ballads_, but no _Poetry_.
_Language_ lyes speechlesse; and _Divinity_, 15
Lost such a _Trump_ as even to _Extasie_
Could charme the Soule, and had an _Influence_
To teach best _judgements_, and please dullest _Sense_.
The _Court_, the _Church_, the _Vniversitie_,
Lost _Chaplaine_, _Deane_, and _Doctor_, All these, Three. 20
It was his _Merit_, that his _Funerall_
Could cause a losse so _great_ and _generall_.
If there be any Spirit can answer give
Of such as hence depart, to such as live:
Speake, Doth his body there vermiculate, 25
Crumble to dust, and feele the lawes of Fate?
Me thinkes, _Corruption_, _Wormes_, what else is foule
Should spare the _Temple_ of so faire a _Soule_.
I could beleeve they doe; but that I know
What inconvenience might hereafter grow: 30
Succeeding ages would _Idolatrize_,
And as his _Numbers_, so his _Reliques_ prize.
If that Philosopher, which did avow
The world to be but Motes, was living now:
He would affirme that th' _Atomes_ of his mould 35
Were they in severall bodies blended, would
Produce new worlds of _Travellers_, _Divines_,
Of _Linguists_, _Poets_: sith these severall _lines_
In him concentred were, and flowing thence
Might fill againe the worlds _Circumference_. 40
I could beleeve this too; and yet my faith
Not want a _President_: The _Phœnix_ hath
(And such was He) a power to animate
Her ashes, and herselfe perpetuate.
But, busie Soule, thou dost not well to pry 45
Into these Secrets; _Griefe_, and _Iealousie_,
The more they know, the further still advance,
And finde no way so safe as _Ignorance_.
Let this suffice thee, that his _Soule_ which flew
A pitch of all admir'd, known but of few, 50
(Save those of purer mould) is now translated
From Earth to Heaven, and there _Constellated_.
For, if each _Priest_ of God shine as a _Starre_,
His _Glory_ is as his _Gifts_, 'bove others farre.