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Upon the incomparable Tragedy cal∣led Mirza, written by my dear Friend Mr. Robert Baron.
ADvance Great Mirza, let the base world see Vertue is Vertue though in misery. Convince her of her madnesse, let her know Goodnesse does still attend thee, high or low; And that, which prosperous, wrought thy hate & scorn, Commands our Adoration when forlorn. Vertue's no Vertue while it lives secure, When difficulty waits on't then 'tis pure. The morning of thy life which soar'd so high In acts of Valour Crown'd with Majesty, Had nere attain'd that glorious pitch and height, Hadst thou not falne a sacrifice at night; This fall of thine thy Fame doth much advance, And death thy valuation doth enhance. So have I seen a much lamented herse When 'twas departing, all bepinn'd with Verse. And from the selfe same channell issuing forth The livers sorrow, and the dead Mans worth; 'Tis this which makes us write, that 't may be known Vertue is highly priz'd, though overthrown. We mourn thy loss, admire thy worth, and grieve Our Isle a Mirz' and Allybeg can give. Thus Text and Time doe sute, and whilst you tell Your Tale, wee'l easily find a Parallell.Jo. Quarles; Fell. of Pet. House Camb.