An Elegie upon D^. Donne. 



UR Donne is dead ; England fhould 

 mourne, may fay 

 We had a man where language chofe 

 to ftay 

 And fhewher graceful! power. ^ I would not praife 

 That and his vaft wit (which in thefe vaine dayes 

 Make many proud) but, as they ferv'd to unlock 

 That Cabinet, his minde : where fuch a ftock 

 Of knowledge was repof'd, as all lament 

 (Or fhould) this generall caufe of difcontent. 



And I rejoyce I am not fo fevere, 

 But (as I write a line) to weepe a teare 



^ In the edition of 1633, the poem opens thus \^ — 

 Is Donne, great Donne deceaf M ? then England fay 

 Thou'haft loft a man where language chofe to ftay 

 And fhew it's gracefull power, l^c. 



For 



