Ripley reviv'd, or, An exposition upon Sir George Ripley's hermetico-poetical works containing the plainest and most excellent discoveries of the most hidden secrets of the ancient philosophers, that were ever yet published / written by Eirenæus Philalethes ...

I Shall now sing a pleasant Elegy, What did betwixt two Lovers Fall out, seek the reason why, This Song discovers; A Wife Did lose her life, Because she did her Husband revive, Whose death did enforce The man to remorse, To see her dead who gave him life.

He was a King, yet dead as dead could be, His Sister a Queen, Who when her Brother she did breathless see, The like was never seen; She cryes Ʋntil her eyes With over-weeping were waxed dim, So long till her tears Reach'd up to her ears, The Queen sunk, but the King did swim.

These Waters with the Fire which prevail'd, Did him so perplex, That starting up, not knowing what him ail'd, He sorely did vex;

He thought That there was wrought Some Treason, but full little did know That it was a Queen Him sav'd, though unseen, And dy'd her self sad white I trow.

At length her Carcass, when her Gall was broke, Rose up to the top, From which fum'd up so venomous a smoak, His breath which did stop; He found, Which made him sound, The cause of his life his Sister did slay; This made him full sad, And grief made him mad, Thus soon his strength fell to decay.

His House and Chamber were so charg'd with heat, It made him to faint, And fainting fell into a grievous sweat; His sweat did so taint The Room With foul persume, Which did e'en almost suffocate: So feeble he grew, He could not eschew, But dung'd and piss'd there where he sate.

At length with sorrows many he expires, Full glad of the change, That death at last should answer his desires; But what is most strange, When dead, That it might be said How dearly he his Sister did love, Their Corps did unite, That they in despight Of Fire, would not asunder move.

And thus together they contumulate A rotting did lye, Passing through dismal Purgatories Gate; Wherein they did fry So long, Ʋntil among The Saints for purity they might pass: Their sins were no more To be found on score, They then were clear as Crystal Glass.

A Spirit then of life from Heaven came, In their Bodies dead, Which now united, of renowned fame To Heaven were led;

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Where they Abode for aye, Enjoying pleasures for evermore, To death not subject, Were now the object Of wonder, for th' had Riches store.