Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life.
About this Item
- Title
- Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life.
- Author
- Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.
- Publication
- London :: Printed for Robert Harford ...,
- 1677.
- Rights/Permissions
-
To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
- Subject terms
- Cleveland, John, 1613-1658.
- Link to this Item
-
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A33433.0001.001
- Cite this Item
-
"Clievelandi Vindiciæ, or, Clieveland's genuine poems, orations, epistles, &c. purged from the many false and spurious ones which had usurped his name, and from innumerable errours and corruptions in the true copies : to which are added many never printed before, with an account of the author's life." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A33433.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 2, 2024.
Pages
Page 79
Run with disturbance, till they swallow me
As a Description of his Misery.
But can his spatious Virtue find a Grave
Within the Impostum'd bubble of a Wave?
Whose Learning if we sound, we must confess
The Sea but shallow, and him bottomless.
Could not the Winds to countermand thy death
With their whole Card of Lungs redeem thy breath?
Or some new Island in thy rescue peep
To heave thy Resurrection from the Deep;
That so the World might see thy safety wrought
With no less wonder than thy self was thought?
The famous Stagirite (who in his life
Had Nature as familiar as his Wife)
Bequeath'd his Widow to survive with thee
Queen Dowager of all Philosophy.
An ominous Legacy, that did portend
Thy Fate, and Predecessor's second end.
Some have affirm'd that what on Earth we find,
The Sea can parallel for shape and kind.
Books, Arts and Tongues were wanting, but in thee
Neptune hath got an University.
We'll dive no more for Pearls; the hope to see
Thy sacred Reliques of Mortality
Shall welcome Storms, and make the Seaman prize
His Shipwrack now more than his Merchandize.
Page 80
He shall embrace the Waves, and to thy Tomb,
As to a Royaler Exchange shall come.
What can we now expect? Water and Fire,
Both Elements our ruin do conspire;
And that dissolves us which doth us compound,
One Vatican was burnt, another drown'd.
We of the Gown our Libraries must toss
To understand the greatness of our Loss;
Be Pupils to our Grief, and so much grow
In Learning, as our Sorrows overflow.
When we have fill'd the Rundlets of our Eyes
We'll issue't forth, and vent such Elegies,
As that our Tears shall seem the Irish Seas,
We floating Islands, living Hebrides.