On the Death of a Nobleman in Scotland, buried at Aithen

AIthen, thy Pearly Coronet let fall,
Clad in sad Robes upon thy Temples set,
The weeping Cypresse, or the sable Jet.

Mourne this thy Nurslings losse, a losse which all
Apollos Quire bemoanes, which many yeares
Cannot repaire, nor Influence of Spheares.

Ah! when shalt thou find Shepheard like to him,
Who made thy Bankes more famous by his worth,
Then all those Gems thy Rocks and Streams send forth.

His splendor others Glow-worm light did dim,
Sprung of an ancient and a vertuous Race,
He Vertue more than many did embrace.

He fram'd to mildnesse thy halfe-barbarous swaines,
The Good-mans Refuge, of the bad the fright,
Unparaleld in friendship, worlds Delight.

For Hospitality along thy Plaines
Far-fam'd, a Patron, and a Patterne faire,
Of Piety, the Muses chiefe repaire.

Most debonaire in Courtesie supreame,
Lov'd of the meane, and honour'd by the Great,
Ne're dasht by Fortune, nor cast down by Fate,
To present, and to after Times a Theame.

Aithen, thy Teares poure on this silent Grave,
And drop them in thy Alabaster cave,
And Ni…bes Imagery become;
And when thou hast distilled here a Tombe,
E…chace in it thy Pearls, and let it beare,
Aithens best Gem and honour shrin'd lies here.

FAme Register of Time
Write in thy Scrowle, that I
Of Wisdome Lover, and sweet Poesie,
Was cropped in my Prime:
And ripe in worth, though green in yeares, did dye.

IUstice, Truth, Peace, and Hospitality,
Friendship, and Love, being resolv'd to dye
In these lewd Times, have chosen here to have
With just true pious —their Grave;
Them cherish'd he so much, so much did grace,
That they on Earth would choose none other Place.

WHen Death to deck his Trophees stop thy breath,
Rare Ornament and Glory of these Parts:
All with moist Eyes might say, and ruthfull hearts,
That things immortall vassal'd were to Death.

What Good in Parts on many shar'd we see
From Nature, gracious Heaven, or Fortune flow,
To make a Master-Piece of worth below,
Heaven, Nature, Fortune gave in grosse to Thee.

In Honour, Bounty, Rich, in Valour, Wit,
In Courtesie, Borne of an ancient Race,
With Bayes in war, with Olives crown'd in Peace,
Match'd great, with Off-spring for great Actions fit.

No Rust of Times, nor Change, thy Vertue wan
With Times to change, when Truth, Faith, Love decay'd,
In this new Age (like Fate) thou fixed stay'd
Of the first World an all-substantiall Man.

As earst this Kingdome given was to thy Syre,
The Prince his Daughter trusted to thy Care,
And well the credit of a Gem so rare
Thy loyalty and merit did require.

Yeares cannot wrong thy Worth, that now appeares
By others set as Diamonds among Pearles,
A Queens deare Foster, Father to three Earles,
Enough on Earth to triumph are o're yeares.

Life a Sea-voyage is, Death is the Haven,
And fraught with honour there thou hast arriv'd,
Which Thousands seeking have on Rocks been driven,
That Good adornes thy Grave which with thee liv'd:

For a fraile Life which here thou didst enjoy,
Thou now a lasting hast …reed of Annoy.

WIthin the Closure of thi… Narrow Grave
Lye all those Graces a Good-wife could have:
But on this Marble they shall not be read,
For then the Living envy would the Dead.

THe Daughter of a King of Princely Parts,
In Beauty eminent, in Vertues chiefe,
Loadstar of Love, and Loadstone of all hearts,
Her Friends, and Husbands only Joy, now Griefe▪
Is here pent up within a Marble Frame,
Whose Paralell no Times, no Climates claime.

VErses fraile Records are to keep a Name,
Or raise from Dust Men to a Life of Fame,
The sport and spoyle of Ignorance; but far
More fraile the Frames of Touch and Marble are,
Which envy, Avarice, Time e're long confound,
Or mis-devotion equalls with the Ground.
Vertue alone doth last, frees man from Death,
And, though despis'd and scorned here beneath,
Stands grav'n in Angels Diamantine Roles,
And blazed in the Courts above the Poles.
Thou wast faire Vertues Temple, they did dwell,
And live ador'd in thee, nought did excell
But what thou either didst possesse or love,
The Oraces Darling, and the maids of Jove,
Courted by Fame for Bounties which the Heaven
Gave thee in great, which if in Parcels given
Too many, such we happy sure might call,
How happy then wast thou who enjoyedst them all?
A whiter Soule ne're body did invest,
And now (sequestred) cannot be but blest,
Inro…'d in Glory, 'midst those Hierarchies
Of that immortall People of the Skies,
Bright Saints and Angels, there from cares made free
Nought doth becloud thy soveraign Good from Thee.
Thou smil'st at Earths Confusions and Jars,
And how for Centaures Children we wage wars:
Like honey Flies, whose rage whole swarmes consumes
Till D…st thrown on them makes them vaile their plumes.
Thy friends to thee a Monument would raise,
And …imne thy Vertues; but dull griefe thy Praise
Breakes in the Entrance, and our Taske proves vaine,
What duty writes that woe blot… out againe:
Yet Love a Pyramid of Sighs thee reares,
And doth embaulme thee with Fare-wells and Teares.