On the death of the Honourable Robert Boyle This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B27610 of text R41582 in the English Short Title Catalog. Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 5KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B27610 Wing O310 ocm 31355622

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 Early English books online text creation partnership. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B27610) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 205950) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 1750:36) On the death of the Honourable Robert Boyle 1 sheet ([1] p.). Printed for Samuel Smith ..., London : 1692. In verse. Printed in two columns and enclosed in mourning border, with emblematic headpiece. Reproduction of original in the Bodleian Library.

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 eng Boyle, Robert, 1627-1691 -- Poetry. eebo On the death of the Honourable Robert Boyle n/a 1692 1 575 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2014-05 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2014-06 Sampled and proofread 2014-06 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2015-03 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
skull with shovels, axes, bones and hourglasses

MEMENTO MORI

ON THE DEATH OF THE Honourable ROBERT BOYLE . NOT least concern'd tho' last our Muse appears , With broaken words to bath thy Urn in Tears : She thought to hide within her sighing Breast The sullen Grief , the Torments that opprest Her stiffled Spirits ; till at length a Flame Broke thro' the Trance , amongst the Croud she came Upon thy Sacred Obsequies to wait To weep our Own , not Thine unhappy Fate . Great BOYLE by Birth , Greater by Knowledge far , Natures chief Fav'rite , and the brigtest Star That Heav'ns ere shew'd to guide the Learned World Tho' tumb'ling Seas of Trials , Waves that hurl'd The tender Bark , in quest of Truth rig'd out , And often lodg'd her on the Sands of Doubt , As oft the Rocks of School Disputes were made , And wrack't the Hopes of all the Learned Trade . But by thy Labours guided we may steer Betwixt these Dangers thro' an Ocean clear And pleasing as thy Style enrich't with new Useful Discoveries , and yet always true . Truth was thy aim , Experiments the way , And Nature yielded to thy least Essay . Above the toyl of Bus'ness thy high Mind Stoopt not to glitt'ring Earth , only enclin'd To Universal Good , and valued more An Useful Secret than the Indian Store , Or Great Arcanum , and that Day was lost When tedious Bus'ness or Diversion crost Thy chief Design , th' Advancing Knowledge rais'd In Blooming Youth , and to thy last it blaz'd . In this thy sickly hours were spent , and then Thy Life seem'd lent Three but for other Men . To you the Air new qualities reveal'd , Nor ought within her thin Embrace conceal'd The Pow'rs of Heat and Cold , of Moist and Dry , The Cause of Fixtness and Fluidity You sought , you found : Not the Seas Depth could hide Nor hidden Qualities in Flame reside . The far-stretcht Universe to you seem'd small , You reacht , and yet not only reacht at all . To bring thy several great Designs in view , Were to repeat the Labours you went thro' . Nor were thy thoughts less influenc'd from above , Thy Soul was fired with Seraphick Love . This Christian Virtuoso shew'd the Age , Men may for Nature and for God Engage . Greatness of Mind suits both , and he that 's Wise , Offers to Heav 'n the grateful'st Sacrifice . At last , when Nature call'd , he slept away , Nor ope'd his Eyes till in Eternal Day : No Pain , no Sickness rudely forc't his Breath , 't was a Translation rather than a Death . Th' Airs weight grew heavy for his purer Mind , And on its Spring it mounted up to find A Nature like it self , Divine and Free From Earthly Dross and all Impurity . Equilibrated there 't at Rest remains , Scorning our Joys , and freed from all our Pains . Fill'd with the Knowledge which below it sought ; Fill'd , yet acquir'ing for th' enlarged Thought , Grows more and more Capacious to receive , As the Eternal Mind vouchsafes to give .

LONDON : Printed for Samuel Smith at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Church-yard . 1692.