Whose corpse might seem a constellation. O had he died of old, how great a strife Had been, who from his death should draw their life; Who should, by one rich draught, become whate'er Seneca, Cato, Numa, Cæsar, were! Learned, virtuous, pious, great; and have by this An universal metempsychosis. Must all these aged sires in one funeral Expire? all die in one so young, so small? Who, had he lived his life out, his great fame Had swoln 'bove any Greek or Roman name. But hasty winter, with one blast, hath brought The hopes of autumn, summer, spring, to nought. Thus fades the oak i'the sprig, i'the blade the corn; Thus without young, this Phœnix dies, new-born. Must then old three-legged grey-beards with their gout, Catarrhs, rheums, aches, live three ages out? Time's offals, only fit for the hospital! Or to hang antiquaries rooms withal! Must drunkards, lechers, spent with sinning, live With such helps as broths, possets, physic give? None live, but such as should die? shall we meet With none but ghostly fathers in the street? Grief makes me rail, sorrow will force its way, And showers of tears tempestuous sighs best lay. The tongue may fail; but overflowing eyes Will weep out lasting streams of elegies. But thou, O virgin-widow, left alone, Now thy beloved, heaven-ravished spouse is gone, Whose skilful sire in vain strove to apply Med'cines, when thy balm was no remedy; With greater than Platonic love, O wed His soul, though not his body, to thy bed: Let that make thee a mother; bring thou forth The ideas of his virtue, knowledge, worth; Transcribe the original in new copies; give Hastings o'the better part: so shall he live In's nobler half; and the great grandsire be Of an heroic divine progeny: An issue which to eternity shall last, Yet but the irradiations which he cast. Erect no mausoleums; for his best Monument is his spouse's marble breast. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 78: Tycho Brache, the Danish astronomer.] TO THE MEMORY OF MR OLDHAM.