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O N T H E

DEATH

O F T H E

Earl of Rochester.

By an Unknown Hand.

HAT Words, what Senses what Night-piece

can express

The World’s Obscurity and Emptiness 1Since Rochester withdrew his vital BeamsFrom the great Chaos, fam’d for high Extreams:The Hero’s Talent, or in Good or Ill,

Dull Mediocrity misjudging still.

Seraphic Lord! whom Heaven for Wonders meant,The earliest Wit, and the most sudden Saint.

What tho’ the Vulgar may traduce thy Ways,And strive to rob thee of thy Moral Praise !

If, with thy Rival Solomon 's Intent,

Thou sinn'd’st a little for Experiment;

Or to maintain a Parodox, which noneHad Wit to answer, but thy self alone:

Thy Soul flew higher; that strict sacred TieWith thy Creator lime was to descry.

Thus