Englands Tribute of Tears

Unwelcome Tydings over-spreads the Land,
The Great, the Wise, the Iust do weeping stand;
What is the cause of Loyal Subjects Tears,
Those Crys and Sorrows which invade our Ears.

What Castles, Towns or Cities have we lost,
Or hath the Rebels our good purpose crost?
Or hath our Valiant Warlike-Troops misled
Oh! no, the grief is that Great Grafton's dead:

Renowned Hero, whose unhappy Fate
Vntimely Death his Days did terminate;
Whose boyling Blood, like to the early Spring,
Ambitious was to serve his Royal King.

Insulting Death, thus daring to surprize
So great a Soul, could nothing less suffice
Thy famish'd Iaws, but such a Hero bold,
Who scorn'd by Rebells for to be controul'd:

And did the greatest hazzards freely run,
And by his mighty Arm great things has done;
The Monuments and Rolls of lasting Fame,
Shall Crown his Courage, Conduct, and his Name.

The warlike Grafton did no labour spare,
A Loyal Heart he in his Breast did bear;
Resolving still King William's Cause to fight
'Gainst France and Rome that wou'd oppose his right.

The Dutch and French when they were both Engag'd,
He see the odds, which made him soon Enrag'd;
And coming up, he did the French destroy,
Thus kill'd the Monsieur and the poor Dear-Joy.

And thus the Fleet of France was forc'd to fly,
While Dutch and English, Crown'd with Victory,
Did fill the Enemy with dread and fear,
His true Heroick Courage did appear.

And thus his Loyal Soul still promp'd him too
The Irish Rebells, them for to pursue;
And to Chastize them for their Villany,
Against King Williams Crown and Dignity.

Vnto the Siege of Cork he March'd with speed,
Thus while he did his Warlike Forces lead,
The Fates upon our Valiant Hero frown'd,
For in this Battel he receiv'd a Wound,

Whereof he Dy'd, well may the Nation Mourn,
And all in tears pay Tribute to his Vrn.
His Life he lost, Religion to maintain,
And we shall ne'r behold him here again.

In a Religious Cause it was he fell,
Therefore we hope his Loyal Soul will dwell
Amongst blest Saints and Angels, to enjoy
True Bliss, where Mortal Cares can't him annoy.

All State and Glory of this present Life,
Incumber'd is with trouble, care and strife;
On Fortunes restless Waves we often steer,
Meeting with many Disappointments here.

But happy is the Man that here can make
His Peace before the world he does forsake,
As this most Noble Duke we know has done,
His Eyes with true Repenting tears did run.

We must acknowledge Trouble he went through,
Yet like a Lamb he bid the world adieu;
And Angel did Conduct him on their Wings,
As a Rich Present to the King of Kings.