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Hang all your rooms with one large pedigree;
'Tis virtue alone is true nobility:

Which virtue from your father, ripe, will fall;
Study illustrious him, and you have all.

IX.

ELEGY ON MY MUSE,

THE TRULY HONOURED LADY, THE LADY VENETIA

DIGBY; WHO LIVING, GAVE ME LEAVE

TO CALL HER SO.

BEING HER ΑΠΟΘΕΩΣΙΣ, OR,

RELATION TO THE SAINTS.

Sera quidem tanto struitur medicina dolore.

WERE time that I dy'd too, now she is dead,

Who was my Muse, and life of all I said;
The spirit that I wrote with, and conceiv'd :
All that was good, or great with me, she weav'd,
And set it forth; the rest were cobwebs fine,
Spun out in name of some of the old Nine,
To hang a window, or make dark the room,
Till swept away, they were cancell'd with a broom!
Nothing that could remain, or yet can stir
A sorrow in me, fit to wait to her!

O! had I seen her laid out a fair corse,
By death, on earth, I should have had remorse
On Nature for her; who did let her lie,
And saw that portion of herself to die.
Sleepy or stupid Nature, couldst thou part
With such a rarity, and not rouze Art,

With all her aids, to save her from the seize

Of vulture Death, and those relentless cleis ?6
Thou wouldst have lost the Phoenix, had the kind
Been trusted to thee; not to itself assign'd.
Look on thy sloth, and give thyself undone,
(For so thou art with me) now she is gone:
My wounded mind cannot sustain this stroke,
It rages, runs, flies, stands, and would provoke
The world to ruin with it; in her fall,

I sum up mine own breaking, and wish all.
Thou hast no more blows, Fate, to drive at one;
What's left a poet, when his Muse is gone?
Sure I am dead, and know it not! I feel
Nothing I do; but like a heavy wheel,
Am turned with another's powers: my passion
Whirls me about, and, to blaspheme in fashion,
I murmur against God, for having ta'en
Her blessed soul hence, forth this valley vain
Of tears, and dungeon of calamity!

I envy it the angels amity,

The joy of saints, the crown for which it lives,
The glory and gain of rest, which the place gives!
Dare I profane so irreligious be,

To greet or grieve her soft euthanasy!
So sweetly taken to the court of bliss
As spirits had stolen her spirit in a kiss,
From off her pillow and deluded bed;
And left her lovely body unthought dead !
Indeed she is not dead! but laid to sleep
In earth, till the last trump awake the sheep

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Of vulture Death, and those relentless cleis.] The last word is uncommon is it a different pronunciation of the word claws, adopted by the poet, for the sake of rhyme? or is it a real corruption of some other word? WHAL.

Cleis is common enough in our old poets: it is a genuine term, and though now confounded with claws, was probably restricted at first to some specific class of animals.

And goats together, whither they must come
To hear their judge, and his eternal doom;
To have that final retribution,

Expected with the flesh's restitution.

For, as there are three natures, schoolmen call
One corporal only, th' other spiritual,

Like single; so there is a third commixt,

Of body and spirit together, placed betwixt

Those other two; which must be judged or crown'd:
This, as it guilty is, or guiltless found,
Must come to take a sentence, by the sense
Of that great evidence, the Conscience,
Who will be there, against that day prepared,
T'accuse or quit all parties to be heard!
O day of joy, and surety to the just,
Who in that feast of resurrection trust!
That great eternal holy day of rest

To body and soul, where love is all the guest!
And the whole banquet is full sight of God,
Of joy the circle, and sole period!

All other gladness with the thought is barr'd;
Hope hath her end, and Faith hath her reward!
This being thus, why should my tongue or pen
Presume to interpel that fulness, when
Nothing can more adorn it than the seat
That she is in, or make it more complete ?
Better be dumb than superstitious:

Who violates the Godhead, is most vicious
Against the nature he would worship. He
Will honour'd be in all simplicity,

Have all his actions wonder'd at, and view'd
With silence and amazement; not with rude,
Dull and profane, weak and imperfect eyes,
Have busy search made in his mysteries!

He knows what work he hath done, to call this

guest,

Out of her noble body to this feast :

And give her place according to her blood
Amongst her peers, those princes of all good!
Saints, Martyrs, Prophets, with those Hierarchies,
Angels, Arch-angels, Principalities,

The Dominations, Virtues, and the Powers,
The Thrones, the Cherubs, and Seraphic bowers,
That, planted round, there sing before the Lamb
A new song to his praise, and great I AM :
And she doth know, out of the shade of death,
What 'tis to enjoy an everlasting breath!
To have her captived spirit freed from flesh,
And on her innocence, a garment fresh
And white as that put on and in her hand
With boughs of palm, a crowned victrice stand!
And will you, worthy son, sir, knowing this,
Put black and mourning on? and say you miss
A wife, a friend, a lady, or a love;

Whom her Redeemer honour'd hath above?
Her fellows, with the oil of gladness, bright
In heaven's empire, and with a robe of light?
Thither you hope to come; and there to find
That pure, that precious, and exalted mind
You once enjoy'd: a short space severs ye,
Compared unto that long eternity,

That shall rejoin ye. Was she, then, so dear,
When she departed? you will meet her there,
Much more desired, and dearer than before,
By all the wealth of blessings, and the store
Accumulated on her, by the Lord

Of life and light, the son of God, the Word!
There all the happy souls that ever were,
Shall meet with gladness in one theatre ;

7 Whom her Redeemer, &c.] The Apotheosis abounds in scriptural allusions, which I have left to the reader; as well as the numerous passages which Milton has adopted from it, and which his editors have as usual overlooked, while running after Dante and Thomas Aquinas.

And each shall know there one another's face,
By beatific virtue of the place.

There shall the brother with the sister walk,
And sons and daughters with their parents talk;
But all of God; they still shall have to say,
But make him All in All, their Theme, that day;
That happy day that never shall see night!
Where he will be all beauty to the sight;
Wine or delicious fruits unto the taste;
A music in the ears will ever last;
Unto the scent, a spicery or balm;
And to the touch, a flower like soft as palm.
He will all glory, all perfection be,
God in the Union, and the Trinity!
That holy, great and glorious mystery,
Will there revealed be in majesty!
By light and comfort of spiritual grace;,

The vision of our Saviour face to face
In his humanity! to hear him preach
The price of our redemption, and to teach
Through his inherent righteousness, in death,
The safety of our souls, and forfeit breath!
What fulness of beatitude is here?
What love with mercy mixed doth appear,
To style us friends, who were by nature foes?
Adopt us heirs by grace, who were of those
Had lost ourselves, and prodigally spent
Our native portions, and possessed rent?
Yet have all debts forgiven us, and advance
By' imputed right to an inheritance
In his eternal kingdom, where we sit
Equal with angels, and co-heirs of it.
Nor dare we under blasphemy conceive

He that shall be our supreme judge, shall leave
Himself so un-inform'd of his elect,

Who knows the hearts of all, and can dissect

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