Two Treatises, Elegy 1 – Elegy 3
To the MEMORY OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, THE Lady FRANCES HOBART, late of Norwich.
YOu who think Honours diſpenſations be
From the ſeverer acts of Piety,
Who judge your ſelves too great for to be good,
And that Religion would but ſtain your blood:
That Kneeling wears out cloths too faſt, and Prayer
Is but Fanaticks beating of the Air:
Who at a Sermon, think an hour, an age;
And five hours, but a moment on a Stage;
To whom to live is nothing, but to cat,
And drink, and ſleep, and dreſs, and play, and prate,
And make ſome viſits, that your friends may ſee
What fine, gay nothings of mankind you be,
Whoſe ſenſual lives might juſtly raiſe diſputes,
Whether your ſouls be Rationals, or Brutes:
Turn here your wanton eyes, here you may ſpy
A true Exemplar of Nobility;
One, who judg'd to be eminently good;
The beſt improvement of her noble blood,
Who ſacrific'd th' advantage of her birth,
And whatſoever elſe ſhe had from earth,
To credit waies of Piety, and ſhow
The world, that Godlineſs is not below
The higheſt mortal; who with you could glory
Of all thoſe things, which ſerve to fill your ſtory.
Birth, Breeding, Beauty, Riches, Honours, ſhe
Knew what there was of true felicity
In theſe. The ſtrains of courteſie and wit,
What Courtſhip ſeveral qualities would fit
She knew, how to receive a Complement,
And to return it with a Grace, when lent;
And one thing more ſhe knew, which was, to call
Theſe Trifling Vanities, and ſlight them all.
To her to live, was to Read, Hear and Pray;
Her life was but one conſtant Sabbath day.
She ſometime went abroad ('tis true) but trodeAct. 10. 38.
Her Saviour's path, ſhe went, but doing good.
Had ſhe been Catholick in the Romiſh ſenſe,
What ſtock their thrifty Church had raiſed hence
For poorer Madams! Oh! how many pair
Would ſhe alone have watch'd for unto prayer?
How many might have ſate at Cards, and ſent
Their Beads to her, to drop for them? or ſpent
Their time at Playes, and charg'd her with their ſhare
Of cloſe Devotions? ſhe had had to ſpare.
She of Moguntia, whom the Prieſt eſpiedV. Gaz… pia bilaria Lond. 1657. p. 67. Ex Coeſar… l. 5. cap. 5.
With troops of Devils, riding all aſtride,
On her long train, to Church (they from her glaſs
Came with her ſomething tardy unto Maſs;
Mean while, where were the Exorciſts to indure
Upon the holy ground fiends ſo impure?)
Had notwithſtanding ſcap'd the purging fire,
If this rare Lady had been of their Quire;
Her early preſence, and her Zeal (no doubt)
Had clear'd the hallowed ſoil, ſcar'd ſpirits out.
The Holy-water had been ſpar'd, her eyes
Had dropt the lazy Ladies Sacrifice.
Fond Catholicks! charge us no more that we
Advancing Faith, teach good works needleſs be.
This Proteſtant out-did you every one.
And yet lookt to be ſav'd by Faith alone.
Love to your ſelves is what makes you ſo free,
And by your works you think to ſatisfie.
Her good deeds were no peuance; yet their ſtore
Was every whit as great, if not much more
Than yours, which are deſign'd in Commutation
For Purgatorial pa…ns, or expiatio…
Of ſome fla…gtious crimes. Her purer love
To Chriſt, conſtrain'd her noble ſoul above
Your Lott'ry deeds, you'd nere your pence throw down,
Did not you vainly hope to draw a Crown.
You put your Alms to intereſt, for gain,
She lent, ſhe gave, and lookt for naught again.
You in Devotions who were wont to go
To Walſingham, hence forward, learn to know
The way to Chapplefield, there you may ſee
The place where once this Saint abode, where ſhe
So long wrought Miracles of Love: Far more
Than your dull Colledge, that was there before.
Thence weeping paſs to Blicklin vault, and there
Pay your Devotions to her Sepulchre:
When this is done, go you and do likewiſe
Acknowledge Chriſt the only Sacrifi…e
For Sin. Take Heaven upon the gift of Grace,
Then work as ſhe. Thus you may ſee the place
Where ſhe abides, and a Saint Frances find
(Can you believe't?) that was not of your mind.
ERRATA.
PAge 3. line 10. read feeble Dove, p. 5. l. penult. r. Dinah, p. 6. l. 9. r. ſhe, p. 19. l. 12. dele ordinarily, p. 24. l. 1. r. from ſpending, p. 43. l. 13. r. Jedid…ah, p. 46. l. 20. r. their, p. 54. l. 3. r. account of, p. 58. l. 30. r. Jael, p. 59. l. ult. r. lazy, p. 64. l. 16. r. excell, p. 76. l. 28. r. becauſe, p. 77. l. 1. r. theſe are, p. 80. l. penult. r. on, p. 86. l. 13. r. peruſe Juſtinians, &c. p. 101. l. 8. r. the loſs, p. 103. l. ult. r. all the, p. 110. l. 22. r. Paul, p. 121. l. 17. r. in the Land, p. 122. l. 3. r. demiſſion, p. 153. l. 12. r. & cuſtos.
In the ſecond Part.
In the Epiſt. Ded. p. 3. l. 13. r. Navis, p. 6. r. approve himſelf, p. 178. l. 22. r. a, p. 183. l. 8. r. Root, p. 187. l. 3. the verſe miſquoted, 30, for 39. p. 195. l. 16. r. in, p. 199. l. 22. r. the, p. 201. l. 32. r. eternal, p. 208. l. 17. r. An hungring after, p. 210. l. 2. a comma at doubting, p. 212. marg. r. Cant. 8. 5. p. 217. l. penult. r. hath done. p. 222. l. 18. r. in, p. 232. l. 4. blot out do, p. 240. l. 9. r. to, p. 240. l. 21. r. face.
TO THE Honourable Memory OF THE Lady FRANCES HOBART, late of Chapplefield in Norwich.
NAtures Endymion, whoſe Lyntean eye
Did's Miſtreſs ſecret Cabinet deſcry,
Who plants deſcrib'd from Leb'nons Cedar tall,
Unto the creeping Hyſop on the wall;
Who (ſeeing Knowledge puffeth up) might vaunt
His held in cap…te, by ſpecial grant
From the Lord Paramount, who, virtue, vice,
Nature and Art, what not? did enterpriſe;
Remits the ſearch t' a more ſagacious mind,
Saying, A vertuous woman who can find?
One of a thouſand men, no female mate,
Sure God d…d Male and Female, good create.
And though the ſtrong man armed firſt attaque…
The weaker Sex, and her his Engine makes;
Yet God (to countermine) makes her alſo
The Magazine of Arms, and Champion too;
An Achillean Spear, to wound and heal;
Right Weapon-Salve, cauſe both of woe and weal:
And now (through grace) goodneſs in man and woman,
Without exception, doth enter common.
Vertue is not monopoliz'd, but mean
Nor's Phoenix maſculine but Epicene.
Here was a Vertuous Woman: Solomon
Might here have had for his Deucalion
A Pyrrha; one, where each becoming grace
Ambitious of an advantageous place
To ſhew it ſelf, agreed in one Tenſe
To make themſelves a noble reſidence.
Here you might ſee greatneſs and cou…teſie
In-laid, and counterpointed equally.
There's Modeſty like to the Morning Roſe,
Which Phoebus tyring, doth but half diſcloſe;
'Bove them with eyes lift up, and bended knee,
Is Cloſet-piety; This you may not ſee.
That's Charity on her attendant ſtands
With chearful aſpect, free, and open hands.
She in th' old dreſs, which there you ſtanding ſee
Waiting on her, is Madam Conſtancy.
And that below which hangeth down the creſt
Humility, which graceth all the reſt.
If Vertue need an adventitious praiſe,
Beauty and Honour here, did lend its bayes.
Heroick Vertue from prolifick womb
Of Noble blood, by th' holy Spirit doth come.
If Rarity Encomiums may indite,
O'th' better ſide ſhe was an Heteroclite.
Not many Noble called choſen ones:
All goods are rare, Pearls are call'd Unions.
Goodneſs impal'd with greatneſs, is indeed
A Noble Vine, and wholly a right ſeed.
How! O Vinedreſſers! for the Vine laid waſte,
Whoſe ſhadow was ſo ſweet, whoſe fruit did taſte
So gratefully: 'Tis cut up branch and root,
Nor ſlip, nor cion left again to ſprout.
The comfort's this, ſhe is no withered gourd,
A Tree of Righteouſneſs, Plant of the Lord,
By him tranſplanted; ſhe more fruit ſhall yield
In the Elyſian, than in Chapplefield.
To the Illuſtrious Memory OF THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, THE Lady FRANCES HOBART, late of Capplefield in Norwich.
OH! for a Sea of tears, for tears of blood!
Oh! for an hundred eyes to weep a flood
Of waters, waters far more ſharp than brine
With perfect grief, fit Victimes for this ſhrine.
A Song's deſired, my poor Muſe complied,
But ere ſhe ſang it out, ſhe burſt and died.
Grief ſet the Cliff ſo high, ſorrow ſo rackt
Her tender heart-ſtrings, that when toucht, they crackt:
She yet is loth to yield, ſhe hopes to groan
A ſhatter'd verſe or two o're ſuch a ſtone.
Ah! for one doleful ſhrick to rend the Sky,
Then would ſhe on this grave lye down and die:
But dying, leave ſome Legacies to give
To any who have yet an heart to live.
A broken heart, within which riven frame,I…pr…mis.
In every chink, this Noble Lady's Name.
A face gutt'red with tears, a panting breaſt,Item.
Which when the tongue gives in, may ſigh the reſt:
And when the fancy fails, a bleeding eye,Item.
To weep a more Pathetick Elegy.
Theſe her neglected Arms ſhe gave to me,
That I with them might hug this Prodigy
Of Vertue, which in a faſt Gordian knot
I'le tye, and with her reliques let them rot.
Here lyes extinguiſhed a fallen Star,
Which fixt in th' ſpangled frame, would very far
Out-ſhine thoſe leſſer lights, whoſe beaming would
Darken the Sun, and turn the Moon to blood.
How had the Pilgrims flockt about her Tomb,
Had there been ever ſuch a Saint at Rome.
Add but her merits to that Churches ſtore,
And they might ſin whole Ages on her ſcore.
Ah Lord! what thing is this the world calls man!
Whom ſome few inches of a grave can ſpan,
Though nere ſo ſwell'd with honour, nere ſo vaſt,
That Kingdoms cannot hold, yet found at laſt,
Though now more room, more earth, more worlds they crave,
Coopt up within the confines of a grave.
How did this ſtately Cedar lately 'expan'd
Her high and lovely top, with which ſhe fann'd
The Air, and from it gave a lovely ſhade,
Refreſhing ſuch as the world weary made.
Alas! ſhe's faln, and in a Vault is ſunk,
All we can ſay, 's Here lyes a goodly Trunk,
Which in a moment, by a ſudden turn
Is aſhes made, and fitted for an Urn;
An Urn on which the Mourner only muſt
Grave this, Here lyeth Honourable Duſt.
With this great Lady's, ſee another Herſe,
O're which my breathleſs Muſe cann't ſing 2 verſe.
'Tis needleſs; why? they were in Vertue, blood,
Honour and Piety, what e're is good,
And to be praiſed both, the very ſame,
Repeat what's ſaid, change but the chriſten name:
'Tis true of both; and thus indeed they were
Two Noble Siſters, A thrice Noble Pa…r.