I must affirm it did as much surpass
Most I have known, as the clear sky doth glass.
Constant and kind, and plain, and meek, and mild
It was, and with no new conceits defil'd.
Busy, but sacred thoughts--like bees--did still
Within it stir, and strive unto that hill
Where redeem'd spirits, evermore alive,
After their work is done, ascend and hive.
No outward tumults reach'd this inward place:
'Twas holy ground, where peace, and love, and grace
Kept house, where the immortal restless life,
In a most dutiful and pious strife,
Like a fix'd watch, mov'd all in order still;
The will serv'd God, and ev'ry sense the will!
In this safe state Death met thee, Death, which is
But a kind usher of the good to bliss,
Therefore to weep because thy course is run,
Or droop like flow'rs, which lately lost the sun,
I cannot yield, since Faith will not permit
A tenure got by conquest to the pit.
For the great Victor fought for us, and He
Counts ev'ry dust that is laid up of thee.
Besides, Death now grows decrepit, and hath
Spent the most part both of its time and wrath.
That thick, black night, which mankind fear'd, is torn
By troops of stars, and the bright day's forlorn.
The next glad news--most glad unto the just!--
Will be the trumpet's summons from the dust.
Then I'll not grieve; nay, more, I'll not allow
My soul should think thee absent from me now.
Some bid their dead "Good night!" but I will say
"Good morrow to dear Charles!" for it is day.

IN ZODIACUM MARCELLI PALINGENII.

It is perform'd! and thy great name doth run
Through ev'ry sign, an everlasting sun,
Not planet-like, but fixed; and we can see
Thy genius stand still in his apogee.
For how canst thou an aux eternal miss,
Where ev'ry house thy exaltation is?
Here's no ecliptic threatens thee with night,
Although the wiser few take in thy light.
They are not at that glorious pitch, to be
In a conjunction with divinity.
Could we partake some oblique ray of thine,
Salute thee in a sextile, or a trine,
It were enough; but thou art flown so high,
The telescope is turn'd a common eye.
Had the grave Chaldee liv'd thy book to see,
He had known no astrology but thee;
Nay, more--for I believe't--thou shouldst have been
Tutor to all his planets, and to him.
Thu