Tixall Poetry/To Cannall, in Mourning
To
Cannall, in Mourning.
What all in black! all mourning! O that weeMistooke the place, or saw not what we see.In favor of our eyes we must be gon,For if we stay, we shall pertake a moaneNot common, since all obiects speake this crosseAs no particular but a general losse.Come gratitude, and let selfe-love depart;Weele stay and hear it, though it breake our hart.Is this the house to which none ever cameUnwilling or unwelcome? Happy fame,But not eternall! for alas, no moreIt can be now as it has beene before. See the sad owners, whose contented lookeUs'd to assure us such, as planet stroake,(Though kind and civill) now instruct our feares,And tell our paine ith' language of their teares.By which moist characters how soone is sedA mothers losse, the Lady Persall dead.A mother unto all, her flowing hartDeny'd not any, as her child, a part.Her liberall hand could not decrease her store,Since her more liberall wish still gave us more.Gratefull let us pay back the debt we owe,Whilst thus our eyes in silent sorrows flowe.