Selected quad for the lemma: hand_n
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A58164
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An elegy on the death of Her Late Sacred Majesty Mary the Second, Queen of England, &c. who dyed December 28th, 1694 / by J. L. R. of S.
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J. L. R., of S.
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1695
(1695)
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Wing R39; ESTC R32262
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4,484
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14
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wonders once by Moses's Rod were wrought When he the Israelites out of Egypt brought The State reform'd all greiveances redress'd This is her Sabbath and her yeare of rest She was the Doue sent to a Forraigne land Brought back an Orange-Branch at Gods command A signe of Peace or victory to our Brittish strand Like Joseph when in power abroad she well Consults the safety of our Israel Belov'd abroad and honoured at home Blessings which rarely ev'n to Prophts come The Belgick Provinces in nothing were Vnited more than in their loue to her They there own Heptarchy did disapproue Seven united Provinces Dissolv'd into a Monarchy of Love In her we'th vertues without th' vices see Both of a Common-wealth and Monarchy William that Easterne Sage came from afar Lead by the guidance of an English star Where haveing made his Presents Gold and Arabian Myrh are meaner things These to each other are ' th fit'st Offerings Thus worshipping he did succesfull prove Carrys away the obiect of his loue But England could not long her absence beare Starrs shine most glorious in their native Sphere Thus Providence by these removealls meant By Sev'rall Schooles as 't were of goverment To fit her for a Throne of higher fame Next to the Blessed Lady of that name She was the First the Second ours became T' was her peculiar glory hers alone At once to merit and refuse a throne Vntill she thought it duty to receiue VVith reverence what heav'n thus Seem'd to give With th' same reluctance still she enter'd on The Goverment when her Dear Lord was gone But nothing with more joy she did restore Vnlesse perhaps she left this life with more Now the poore widdows only rich in teares And he most Pompous is who thus appeares Cast their two mites two weeping eyes they have To 'th common Treasury of greife her grave Poor Orphans thus to greater straits are put For heaven now has their Exchequer shut In other things the law did bound her will Only her Charity was boundlesse still From ' th King her Second selfe t' was sometimes hid Her left hand knew not what the right hand did Lazarus at Dives gate in vaine implores Only the kinder dogs did lick his sores But t' was her great Prerogatiue to saue The lost and cure the wounds which fortune gave Bethesda only cur'd the first that came Her healing charity was still the same To all thus to the last the Lord gave pay Mat. 20.8 Equall to him who bore the heat o' th day The Church and state her only Children were Our Nursing Mother plac'd her thoughts only here Nor are they now like Orphans left at large Great William still doth undertake the Charge Albion regaines its lustre and doth stand Great Arbiter of Europe Aarons wand Blossomes Religion and the Laws we see Once more supporters of our Monarchy Her greatest task of vertue seem'd to be ' Mongst all those glorys Still to preserue that great humility Where ere she was she still was on a throne Her presence either found or made it one Yet still she humble was none ere did know At once a soule so high a soul so low When liueing none durst her just prayses Spread But truth will grant Reprisealls on the dead She came A Prophetesse not to unfold New Truths but teach us to obserue the old T' her owne she came there for to carry on That greater work of Court-Conversion A land they say was almost Pagan grown No Holy-water now at Court appeares Strange Reformation but what flows in teares Truth and Smcerity things long unknown Were to the Queen cheife Maids of Honour grown The Sacred Font doth sons o' th Church create But teares baptize us now true sons o' th state This haeving done Ali's finish'd now she said Now I depart in peace and bow'd her head What Mary's box of precious ointment did T' our Saviour's body never can be hid It s owne perfumes did so Embalme the thing Thus shall your name in future ages Spring Where ere our English Annalls shall be read There shall your vertues their Sweet odours spread Here fix th' Herculean Pillars since in you We see what nature joyn'd with Grace can doe To the King What miracles in England still appeares Th' one Pole on which did move our English Sphere Is quite remou'd and yet no shocks of state The English Atlas still beares up the weight What ever prosperous to our realme has beene In seuerall Reignes in you alone is seen An Eighty Eight you cause us to remember Another happy fifth day of November Goe on Great Prince to fill our Calendar With such auspicious days of peace or of succesfull war You Like that Cloud which interposd a skreen The Egyptians and the Israe'lites betweene Tho' you Serene and calme appeare at home Yet when to a forraigne feild of war you come Then the black side o' th Cloud Teemes nought but thunder from its pregnant womb Suns setting in a watry Cloud they say Portends a storme impending and may they Who here refuse to joyne their pious raine Feele the feirce fury of that Hurricane Beware proud France how thou dost meet a foe Doubly enragd With thy unjust rejoycing his just woe â—east he thy Citys into Ashes turne As a burnt Offering at her injur'd vrne Ephestion dead thus Alexanders host Did Sacrifice whole lands to Deare Ephestion's Ghost Least thy proud fleet with all its prouder names We offer up once more in funerall flames When Caesar dy'd thus did a Comet rise A direfull omen to his Enemyes Tremble Proud France th' heavens will not deny 't Our Queene did pray for what our King doth fight FINIS