Classic Poem

Gon are those Halcyon dayes, when men did dare
Do good, for love undrawn by gain or fear;
Gon are our Heroes whose vast souls did hate
Vice, though't were cloath'd in sanctity or state;
Gon is our Awbrey who did then take's time
To dye, when worthy men thought life a crime.
One whose pure soul with nobleness was fill'd,
And scorn'd to live when peace and truth were kill'd.
One, who was worthy by descent and birth,
Yet would not live a burthen on the earth,
Nor draw his honour from his grandsires name,
Unless his progeny might do the same.
No guilded Mammon , yet had enough to spend,
To feed the poor, and entertain his friend.
No gaping Miser whose desire was more
T'enrich himself, by making's neighbour poor,
Then to lay out himself, his wealth and health,
To buy his Countries good and Common-wealth
Religion was his great delight and joy,
Not as 'tis now to plunder and destroy;
He lean'd on those two pillars faith and reason,
Not false Hypocrisy, nor headlong treason.
His piety was with him bred and grown;
He'ld build ten Churches, e're he'ld pull down one.
Constant to's principles; and though the times
Made his worth sin, and his pure vertues crimes,
He stood unmov'd spite of all troubles hurl'd,
And durst support but not turn with the World
Call'd to the Magistracy, he appear'd
One that desir'd more to be lov'd then fear'd;
Justice and Mercy in him mingled so,
That this flew not too high, nor that too low:
His mind could not be carved worse or better,
By mean mens flattery, nor by great mens letter:
Nor sway'd by Bribes, though profer'd in the dark,
He scorn'd to be half Justice and half Clerk;
But all his distributions ev'nly ran,
Both to the Pesant and the Gentleman
He did what nature had design'd him to
In his due time, while he had strength to do
And when decay and age did once draw nigh,
He'd nothing left to do but only dye.
And when he felt his strength and youth decline,
His bodies losse strengthen'd his souls design:
And as the one did by degrees decay,
I'other ran swifter up the milky way.
Freed from those sicknesses that are the pages
Attending Natures sad decay and ages,
His spotless soul did from his body fly,
And hover in the heav'nly Galaxy,
Whence he looks down, and lets the living see,
What he was once, and what we ought to be.