Wednesday, 23 May 2007

An Epitaph upon Felton, who was hanged in Chains for Murdering the Old Duke of Buckingham

By John Wilmot.

Here uninterr'd suspends, though not to save
Surviving Friends th'Expences of a Grave,
Felton's dead Earth; which to the World will be
Its own sad Monument, his Elegie:
As large as Fame, which whether Bad or Good
I say not; by himself 'twas wrote in Blood;
For which his Body is intomb'd in Air,
Arch'd o're with Heaven, set with a thousand fair
And glorious Stars; a Noble Sepulcher,
Which Time it self can't ruinate; and where
Th'impartial Worm (that is not brib'd to spare
Princes corrupt in Marble) cannot share
His Flesh; which oft the charitable Skies
Imbalm with Tears; daining those Obsequies
Belong to Men shall last, till pitying Fowl
Contend to reach his Body to his Soul.

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