The melancholy and pleasant humour were in him so contempered, that each gave advantage to the other, and made his company one of the delights of mankind. His fancy was unimitably high, equalled only by his great wit; both being made useful by a commanding judgment. His aspect was cheerful, and such as gave a silent testimony of a clear knowing soul, and of a conscience at peace with itself. His melting eye shewed that he had a soft heart, full of noble compassion; of too brave a soul to offer injuries, and too much a Christian not to pardon them in others. He did much contemplate-especially after he entered into his sacred calling-the Mercies of Almighty God, the Immortality of the Soul, and the Joys of Heaven : and would often say in a kind of sacred ecstacy,"Blessed be God that he is God, only and divinely like himself." He was by nature highly passionate, but more apt to reluct at the excesses of it. A great lover of the offices of humanity, and of so merciful a spirit, that he never beheld the miseries of mankind without pity and relief. He was earnest and unwearied in the search of knowledge, with which his vigorous soul is now satisfied, and employed in a continual praise of that God that first breathed it into his active body: that body, which once was a Temple of the Holy Ghost, and is now become a small quantity of Christian dust :— But I shall see it re-animated. Feb. 15, 1639. I. W. AN EPITAPH, WRITTEN BY DOCTOR CORBET, LATE BISHOP OF OXFORD, ON HIS FRIEND DR. DONNE. He that would write an Epitaph for thee, He must have Language, Travel, all the Arts, He must have such a sickness, such a death, 5 Dr. Richard Corbet, an eminent Divine and Poet, born at Ewell in Surrey, and educated at Westminster, whence he removed to Christ Church College, Oxford, in 1597-98. Upon entering into Holy Orders, he was made Chaplain in Ordinary to King James I.; and in July 1630, he was consecrated Bishop of Oxford. In April 1632, he was translated to the See of Norwich, and he died July 28th, 1635. He was, according to Aubrey, a very convivial man, and in his younger years, one of the most celebrated wits of the University, and his volume of Poems is both a rare and meritorious production. TO THE MEMORY OF MY EVER-DESIRED FRIEND DOCTOR DONNE. AN ELEGY BY H. KING, LATE BISHOP OF CHICHESTER. To have liv'd eminent, in a degree Beyond our loftiest thoughts, that is, like Thee; At common graves we have poetic eyes Rich soul of wit and language-we have none. For, all a low-pitch'd fancy can devise Thou like the dying swan didst lately sing, So much as for an epitaph for thee. I do not like the office; nor is't fit Thou, who didst lend our age such sums of wit, Commit we then Thee to Thyself, nor blame No So Jewellers no art or metal trust, To form the diamond, but the diamond's dust. H. K. AN ELEGY ON DR. DONNE, BY IZAAK WALTON. OUR Donne is dead! and we may sighing say, And I rejoice I am not so severe, And wonder not; for when so great a loss Dull age! Oh, I would spare thee, but thou'rt worse: Thou art not only dull, but hast a curse Of black ingratitude; if not, couldst thou Part with this matchless man, and make no vow Some sad remembrance to his dying day? Did his youth scatter Poetry, wherein Lay Love's Philosophy? was every sin Pictur'd in his sharp Satires, made so foul, That some have fear'd sin's shapes, and kept their soul |