Rev. William Cartwright

Francis Palmer, "Upon Mr. Cartwright and his Poems" Cartwright, Comedies, Tragi-Comedies, with other Poems (1651) sigs. **5v-**6.

Great Queen of Shades bring here thy Flowers:
Cut down Elysium to make Bowers
For this sad Hearse: when that is done,
Then weep thy self into a Tomb.

Fates, tear your Books; no more's to do,
Unless you can Create a-new
Out of this Chaos: CARTWRIGHT'S dead,
And with him the World's Soul is fled.

Number by which all things were made,
Is now it self turn'd to a shade;
Nature must needs pine away,
To see her Masterpeece but Clay.

His hand could motion so dispence
To guide ev'n an Intelligence.
The Sun might not thus neerer come,
And burn the World before its Doome.

Who now shall tell us when we Love?
Sing all those pangs and Sighs we prove
When we enjoy; which sweeter Look,
And are more reall in his Book?

Beauty, which is Gods Excellence,
He made the object of the Sence:
Nature was troubled; She ne'r knew
The Rose and Lilly which he drew.

Love's Arrows often do recoile
From rocky Hearts without a Spoile;
But thy sure Quill still wounding sped,
And Virgins kiss'd it as they bled.

Those mortall Powers he did out-flie,
Courting sometimes Aeternity:
Unless that bliss were infinite,
Heaven had not past his Scheme of it.

Plato would say the Gods have Ears,
Who left the Musick of the Spheres,
Wishing he oft had faulty been
So he would thus confess his Sin.

These are but ashes of his fire:
He tun'd Philosophers to his Lyre;
Where thoughts when down he pleas'd to set,
They, like the Trees, in Numbers met.

He Aristotle has unbent,
Made Musick, what he riddles meant,
Cloath'd his own Reason, like his playes;
His Metaphysicks Claims the Bayes.

But he, and Stotevile (that Great Pair)
No longer could breath this dull air:
Nor need they Pyramids: who thus dye,
The Ground it self lifts to the Skie.

Pictures are drawn by mystick Art,
To naked Eyes that shew no part;
But if you put a Glass between,
Then all the Curious Lines are seen.
So look on CARTWRIGHT'S dust (though ne'r so far)
Through these few Papers, you'l behold a Star.