Classic Poem

Upon the Death of the Most Heroick and thrice Noble Princes the Owld Countess of Darby of the House of Tre-Moulle in France

Thrice wet in Greef, how coms't about
The Taper of thy years goes out
But Fate-turnd-downwards it appeers
Snufft and so drowns it self in Tears
First for thy Loyalty depriv'd
Of Hand, means, and last unwiv'd
When Boulton that rebellious Toun
Upon thy Verteous Mate did frown
And not a Man with in thy Ile
Administred one help the while
But with the Plague of All this Nation
Thou w'rt lyable to Sequestration
Leaving an Offspring to partake
Of thy just Sorrows, and to make
In Gushing Streams such flowds to flow
As Current Speak mishap and woe
Yet Crownd with Constancy again
In Love to Husband, Soveraign
And Frends Thy Name can never dye
But Treasurd up in Memory
Cause Treble Fountains from each Eye.
First the Court mourns for loss of such
As for its sake had done so much
Then Children, Frends, and all that knew her
With their salt showrs come and bedew her
Nor sorrow with in Banks contain
For that which was their loss, her Gaine.