No More Learning

And feare, thy _wantonnesse_ should now, begin
_Example_, that hath ceased to be _Sin_?

And that _Feare_ fannes their _Heat_; whilst knowing eyes
Will not admire 10
At this _Strange Fire_,
That here is _mingled with thy Sacrifice_:
But dare reade even thy _Wanton Story_,
As thy _Confession_, not thy _Glory_.
And will so envie _Both_ to future times, 15
That they would buy thy _Goodnesse_, with thy _Crimes_.

_Tho: Browne. _




_On the death of D^r DONNE. _

I Cannot blame those men, that knew thee well,
Yet dare not helpe the world, to ring thy knell
In tunefull _Elegies_; there's not language knowne
Fit for thy mention, but 'twas first thy owne;
The _Epitaphs_ thou writst, have so bereft 5
Our tongue of wit, there is not phansie left
Enough to weepe thee; what henceforth we see
Of Art or Nature, must result from thee.
There may perchance some busie gathering friend
Steale from thy owne workes, and that, varied, lend, 10
Which thou bestow'st on others, to thy Hearse,
And so thou shalt live still in thine owne verse;
Hee that shall venture farther, may commit
A pitied errour, shew his zeale, not wit.
Fate hath done mankinde wrong; vertue may aime 15
Reward of conscience, never can, of fame,
Since her great trumpet's broke, could onely give
Faith to the world, command it to beleeve;
Hee then must write, that would define thy parts:
_Here lyes the best Divinitie, All the Arts. _ 20

_Edw. Hyde_.


[On the _&c. _ _Also in =Deaths Duell. = 1632_]

[4 thy] thine _1632_]

[6 tongue] pens _1632_]




_On Doctor =Donne=,

By D' =C. B. = of =O.
=_

Hee that would write an Epitaph for thee,
And do it well, must first beginne to be
Such as thou wert; for, none can truly know
Thy worth, thy life, but he that hath liv'd so;
He must have wit to spare and to hurle downe: 5
Enough, to keepe the gallants of the towne.
He must have learning plenty; both the Lawes,
Civill, and Common, to judge any cause;
Divinity great store, above the rest;
Not of the last Edition, but the best. 10
Hee must have language, travaile, all the Arts;
Judgement to use; or else he wants thy parts.
He must have friends the highest, able to do;
Such as _Mecoenas_, and _Augustus_ too.
He must have such a sicknesse, such a death; 15
Or else his vaine descriptions come beneath;
Who then shall write an Epitaph for thee,
He must be dead first, let'it alone for mee.


[On _&c. _ _Also in Corbet's Poems 1647_]




_An Elegie upon the incomparable D^{r} DONNE. _

All is not well when such a one as I
Dare peepe abroad, and write an _Elegie_;
When smaller _Starres_ appeare, and give their light,
_Phoebus_ is gone to bed: Were it not night,
And the world witlesse now that DONNE is dead, 5
You sooner should have broke, then seene my head.
Dead did I say? Forgive this _Injury_
I doe him, and his worthes _Infinity_,
To say he is but dead; I dare averre
It better may be term'd a _Massacre_, 10
Then _Sleepe_ or _Death_; See how the _Muses_ mourne
Upon their oaten _Reeds_, and from his _Vrne_
Threaten the World with this _Calamity_,
They shall have _Ballads_, but no _Poetry_.
_Language_ lyes speechlesse; and _Divinity_, 15
Lost such a _Trump_ as even to _Extasie_
Could charme the Soule, and had an _Influence_
To teach best _judgements_, and please dullest _Sense_.
The _Court_, the _Church_, the _Vniversitie_,
Lost _Chaplaine_, _Deane_, and _Doctor_, All these, Three. 20
It was his _Merit_, that his _Funerall_
Could cause a losse so _great_ and _generall_.

If there be any Spirit can answer give
Of such as hence depart, to such as live:
Speake, Doth his body there vermiculate, 25
Crumble to dust, and feele the lawes of Fate?
Me thinkes, _Corruption_, _Wormes_, what else is foule
Should spare the _Temple_ of so faire a _Soule_.
I could beleeve they doe; but that I know
What inconvenience might hereafter grow: 30
Succeeding ages would _Idolatrize_,
And as his _Numbers_, so his _Reliques_ prize.