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NOTHING is here for tears, nothing to wail | |
Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, | |
Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, | |
And what may quiet us in a death so noble. | |
Let us go find the body where it lies | 5 |
Sokt in his enemies blood, and from the stream | |
With lavers pure and cleansing herbs wash off | |
The clotted gore. I with what speed the while | |
(Gaza is not in plight to say us nay) | |
Will send for all my kindred, all my friends | 10 |
To fetch him hence and solemnly attend | |
With silent obsequie and funeral train | |
Home to his Fathers house: there will I build him | |
A Monument, and plant it round with shade | |
Of Laurel ever green, and branching Palm, | 15 |
With all his Trophies hung, and Acts enrolld | |
In copious Legend, or sweet Lyric Song. | |
Thither shall all the valiant youth resort, | |
And from his memory inflame thir breasts | |
To matchless valour, and adventures high: | 20 |
The Virgins also shall on feastful days | |
Visit his Tomb with flowers, only bewailing | |
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice, | |
From whence captivity and loss of eyes. | |
All is best, though we oft doubt, | 25 |
What th unsearchable dispose | |
Of highest wisdom brings about, | |
And ever best found in the close. | |
Oft he seems to hide his face, | |
But unexpectedly returns | 30 |
And to his faithful champion hath in place | |
Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns | |
And all that band them to resist | |
His uncontrollable intent, | |
His servants he with new acquist | 35 |
Of true experience from this great event | |
With peace and consolation hath dismist, | |
And calm of mind all passion spent. | |
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