The Belides or Eulogie and elegie, of that truly honourable John Lord Harrington Baron of Exton, who was elevated hence the 27th of Febr. 1613. vvanting then tvvo moneths of 22. yeares old. By G.T.

A MEDITATION UPON The Decease of those truly Noble LORDS under-named.

So so, let Babel, Edom, shoot like those In Harvest at our losse▪ with mocks and mowes, Tell it in Gath; thus adding deep, to deep, Wormwood to bitternesse; yet God will keep His darling from the Dog, can out of stones Raise Abraham children. he that interpones So for his Church, though Dorcet, Hamilton, Southampton, Oxford, and Belfast, be gone The way of flesh and blood, will sooner yet His covenant with day and night forget,

Th•…•… saile to Sion; not the squallidest Sea-monsters, but they gently draw the breast•…•…, Suckling their young; or if a mother can Forget her child, yet God is love in graine; Will vindicate his Turtle-Dov••, nay cover Her wings with silver, and her feathers over With yellow Gold. Nor Babell be so perk, At some thus of the Temples carved work, For sinne deducted us; we but with rods, Thou shalt be whipt with Scorpions; and in Gods Right hand there is a cup, the dregs whereof Shall be thy portion; Ahabs Ivory roofe, And even the a Tyrean Turrets, built so high, That Eagles at a lower randome fly, And the Goliah's there in Sentinell, Are lessen'd even to (a) Gammadims; must feele His line of vengeance, who could so divide Our Succoth, meet our Schechem: and ô ride On prosperously, thou fairer far then men; Girding thy sword thus, for thy right hand, then Shall teach thee terrible things; shal thresh the horns Of our fierce Bullocks, rabbid Vnicornes, Like Wheat of Madmanah. Ride on, ride on, Strengthning the feeble knees, and every bone, That thou hast broken; still they shake the head, Cry so so would we have it, eat like bread Thy people up; and then the late decease Of these heroick Lords, diruted has As many of our Barres, has made our breach More desperate; ô be gracious then, and reach Thy soveraigne flaggons; let no clouds returne

After the raine; and for the stakes out-worn Thus in the service of thy Tabeenacle, Distribute thousands; Blesse, ô blesse the tackle Of thy poor labouring Ark, and crown her toyle, With Arrarat, and her high places; while Our mighty Hunters, despicably melt Like fat of Lambs, or be like water spilt, Nor to be gathered up againe; else will Thine enemies blaspheme, upbrayding still The promise of his coming; I, and say To day shall jove it, as did yesterday, And in far greater measure; bow thine eare, Thou good and glorious Cherub-rider, heare, And answer us; how long? how long ô Lord? O bare thine arme again, and draw thy sword.

Notes

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  Ezekiel 27. 11.