Keepe him close, close in thine armes, 70 Seal'd vpp with a thousand charmes. For Pittie's sake, O, hide him quite From his mother Nature's sight; Lest for griefe his losse may move All her births abortive proue. 75 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. See our Essay for notice of 'Mr. Herrys.' In the SANCROFT MS. the heading is 'An Elegie on Mr. Herris. R. CR.' It offers these variations: lines 1 and 2, 'doest:' line 18, 'his' for 'he;' adopted: line 29, 'given' for 'give;' adopted: line 36, 'new' for 'now;' adopted from 1648: line 50, the MS. reads 'rugged' for 'ruddy;' adopted: line 58, 'ah' for 'O;' adopted: line 60, 'And let:' lines 70-71 added from the MS., where in the margin is written 'not printed.' G. ANOTHER.[71] If ever Pitty were acquainted 1 With sterne Death; if e're he fainted, Or forgot the cruell vigour Of an adamantine rigour; Here, O, here we should have knowne it, 5 Here, or no where, hee'd have showne it. For hee, whose pretious memory Bathes in teares of every eye; Hee, to whom our Sorrow brings All the streames of all her springs; 10 Was so rich in grace, and nature, In all the gifts that blesse a creature; The fresh hopes of his lovely youth Flourish't in so faire a growth; So sweet the temple was, that shrin'd 15 The sacred sweetnesse of his mind; That could the Fates know to relent, Could they know what mercy meant, Or had ever learnt to beare The soft tincture of a teare; 20 Teares would now have flow'd so deepe, As might have taught Griefe how to weepe. Now all their steely operation Would quite have lost the cruell fashion. Sicknesse would have gladly been 25 Sick himselfe to have sav'd him; And his feaver wish'd to prove, Burning onely in his love. Him when Wrath it selfe had seen, Wrath it selfe had lost his spleen. 30 Grim Destruction here amaz'd, In stead of striking, would have gaz'd. Even the iron-pointed pen, That notes the tragick doomes of men, Wet with teares, 'still'd from the eyes 35 Of the flinty Destinies, Would have learn't a softer style, And have been asham'd to spoyle His live's sweet story, by the hast Of a cruell stop, ill plac't. 40 In the darke volume of our fate, Whence each lease of life hath date, Where in sad particulars The totall summe of man appeares, And the short clause of mortall breath, 45 Bound in the period of Death: In all the booke if any where Such a tearme as this, 'Spare here,' Could been found, 'twould have been read, Writ in white letters o're his head: 50