LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection
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A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
Part II. When reading Part II, Part I is inverted and reversed.
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
Source Created or Published:
folio 12 verso || folio 13 recto
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On Richard Earle of Dorset x Sexton bee mute I knowe thy ill taught tongue, I speaking this Lords praise may doe hi m wrong. Tis past all mortals power: then much more thine, To tell his vertue dwells within this shrine, Yet if illi'trate persons pass this way, And ask what Iewel gloryfyes this clay. Then tell his name, no more: that shall suffice, To draw downe floods of teares, fr om druest eyes. Say Dorset s ashes this Tombe hath in keeping Then lead them forth, for theyl grow blind with weeping. x Vpon one drowned in the snow Within a Fleece of silent waters drown'd Before my death was knowne a graue I found. That which exi'ld my Life from her sweete home For greife, straight snoze it selfe into a Tombe. One Element my angry fate thought meete To bee my Death, Graue, Tombe and winding sheete, Phœbus himselfe my Epitaph had writ But Note: ['snoze' is a copying error for 'froze'] page break 13. But blo [u] tting many ere he thought one fitt. Hee wrote vntill my Graue and Tombe were gone And twas an Epitaph that I had none. For euery one that passed by that way, Without a Sculpture re a d that there I lay. On an ould woeman. x Scilla is tootlesse yet when shee was younge Shee had many teeth & to much toungue. What shall I then of toothlesse say But that her toungue hath wore her teeth away x An Elegy on D r Rauis by D r Corbet When I passe Pauls & trauaile in the walke Where all our Britaine sinners sweare & talke Old Henrie Ruffine Bankrupts, South sayers And youths whose cosenage is as old as theirs And there behold the body of my lord Trod vnder foote by vice which hee abhord It wounded mee the landlord of all times Should let long liues & leases to their crimes But to his sauing honours doth afforde Scarce soe much Sun as to the Prophets Gourde Yet since swift flights of enuy haue best ends Like breath of Angels which a blessing sends and vanisheth withall while fowler deeds Expect a tedious haruest of badde seeds I
Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.