Lachrymæ musarum The tears of the muses : exprest in elegies / written by divers persons of nobility and worth upon the death of the most hopefull, Henry Lord Hastings ... ; collected and set forth by R.B.

An Elegie upon the Lord HASTINGS.

AMongst the Mourners that attend his Herse With flowing eyes, and wish each Tear a Verse, T'embalm his Fame, and his dear Merit save Uninjur'd from th' oblivion of the Grave; A Sacrificer I am come to be, Of this poor Offring to his Memory. O could our pious Meditations thrive So well, to keep his better part alive! So that, in stead of Him, we could but finde Those fair Examples of his Letter'd Minde: Vertuous Emulation then might be Our hopes of Good men, though not such as He. But in his hopeful progress since he's crost, Pale Vertue droops, now her best Pattern's lost. 'Twas hard, neither Divine, nor Humane Parts, The strength of Goodness, Learning, and of Arts, Full crowds of Friends, nor all the Pray'rs of them, Nor that he was the Pillar of his Stem,

Affection's Mark, secure of all mens Hate, Could rescue him from the sad stroke of Fate. Why was not th' Air drest in Prodigions forms, To groan in Thunder, and to weep in Storms? And, as at some mens Fall, why did not His In Nature work a Metamorphosis? No; he was gentle, and his soul was sent A silent Victim to the Firmament. Weep, Ladies, weep, lament great Hastings Fall; His House is bury'd in his Funeral: Bathe him in Tears, till there appear no trace Of those sad Blushes in his lovely face: Let there be in't of Guilt no seeming sence, Nor other Colour then of Innocence. For he was wise and good, though he was young, Well suited to the Stock from whence he sprung: And what in Youth is Ignorance and Vice, In him prov'd Piety of an excellent price. Farewel, dear Lord; and since thy body must In time return to its first matter, Dust; Rest in thy melancholy Tomb in peace: for who Would longer live, that could but now die so?

CHA. COTTON.