Abraham Cowley,
An Elegie on the Death of my Loving Friend and Cousen…
“ Bewaile his fatall and untimely end : Who hath such hard, such unrelenting Eyes, As would not weep when so much Vertue dyes? The God of Poets doth in darknesse shrowd His glorious face, and weepes behind a Cloud. The dolefull Muses thinking now to write Sad Elegies, their teares confound their sight : But him to Elysiums lasting Joyes they bring, Where winged Angels his sad Requiems sing. ”
