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And I myself, who now love quiet too,
UPON THE DEATH OF
THE EARL OF BARCARRES.
By living mortals of th’immortal dead,
"TIS folly all that can be said }
And touch the universal shore.
And, if it seem'd ridiculous to grieve Because our friends are newly come from sea, Though ne'er so fair and calm it be; What would all sober men believe, If they should hear us sighing say, “Balcarres, who but th'other day “Did all our love and our respect command; “At whose great parts we all amaz'd did stand; } “Is from a storm, alas! cast suddenly on land?"
If you will say—Few persons upon earth
Though God, for great and righteous ends,
To perfect his distracted nation's cure, Or stop the fatal bondage 't was to endure; Yet for his pains he soon did him remove, From all th'oppression and the woe Of his frail body's native soil below, To his soul's true and peaceful country above: So Godlike kings, for secret causes, known Sometimes but to themselves alone, One of their ablest ministers elect, And send abroad to treaties which they' intend Shall never take effect; But, though the treaty wants a happy end, The happy agent wants not the reward, For which he labour'd faithfully and hard; His just and righteous master calls him home, And gives him, near himself, some honourable room.
Noble and great endeavours did he bring To save his country, and restore his king; And, whilst the manly half of him (which those Who know not Love, to be the whole suppose) Perform'd all parts of virtue's vigorous life; The beauteous half, his lovely wife, Did all his labours and his cares divide; Nor was a lame nor paralytic side: In all the turns of human state, And all th' unjust attacks of Fate, She bore her share and portion still, And would not suffer any to be ill. Unfortunate for ever let me be, If I believe that such was he,
Whom, in the storms of bad success, And all that Error calls unhappiness, His virtue and his virtuous wife did still accompany'
With these companions 't was not strange That nothing could his temper change. His own and country's union had not weight Enough to crush his mighty mind He saw around the hurricanes of state, Fixt as an island 'gainst the waves and wind. Thus far the greedy sea may reach; All outward things are but the beach; A great man's soul it doth assault in vain Their God himself the ocean doth restrain With an imperceptible chain, And bid it to go back again. His wisdom, justice, and his piety, His courage both to suffer and to die, His virtues, and his lady too, Were things celestial. And we see, In spite of quarrelling philosophy, How in this case 'tis certain found, That Heav'n stands still, and only earth goes round.
COY Nature (which remain'd, though aged grown,
“Here sure shall I be safe” (said she),