On the much lamented death of that incomparable lady the Honourable the Lady Oxenden. A pindarique ode. / by Mrs. Randolph.

On the much Lamented Death Of that Incomparable Lady The Honourable the Lady OXENDEN . A Pindarique Ode . By Mrs. Randolph . I. AH ! 't is too much , relentless Fate ! No more impartial may we stile thee now , So nicely thou dost chuse thy Victims out of late , Still the most perfect soonest feel thy Blow . His larger Circle yet the Sun Has hardly twice compleatly run , Since thou didst on that great Example seize , Of Queens the wisest and the best That ever any Age , or any Nation , blest . Could not that Glorious Royal Prize Thy greedy Cruelty suffice ! But must thou still go on , and with a spiteful Hand , Snatch ev'ry Ornament of our unhappy Land ? And few they were ( alas ) she left behind , In whom her Vertues singly shin'd ; Here they did so conspicuously unite , And each of them so eminently bright , Their Lustre did too soon direct thee right . II . In vain , exceedingly in vain , From thee , my Muse , I think to find Relief , Thou canst not help me to complain , Broken and useless now is thy neglected Lyre ; Too little Art thou hast , and too much Grief , This Theme a more exalted Strain , A better Genius does require : Yet ha ! Should all their utmost Skill conspire , The sweetest , liveliest Strokes of Poetry When drawn for her , how flat and dead they be ! Whoever would her Character endite , Must first have learnt , like her , to think and write . III . All Excellencies , Moral and Divine , With Intellectual , did in her combine ; So solid was her Judgment , so acute her Wit , So well she did employ and govern it : To ev'ry useful kind of Knowledge she aspir'd Scorn'd by those narrow Bounds to be confin'd , Which to her Sex are enviously assign'd , And 't was as easily by her acquir'd , As speedily , almost , as 't was desir'd : Nature ( who doubtless did foresee , How short her Time was here to be ) So accurately did her mind contrive , And did such quick perception to it give , That she Perfection might attain , And all the Ends of Life might gain , Before most others do begin to live . IV . Her great Endowments , which to all were known , Seem'd hidden from her self alone ; Her Wit was cloath'd in mildest Innocence , Such as could neither give , nor take Offence ; Goodness her whole Composure seem'd to be , From the least visible Defect 't was free , Excessive only in Humility : That so attractively she did express , With such engaging Sweetness in her whole Address , As was peculiar to her Mein , In others 't is so seldom seen , 't is hard to fit it with a Name In her it always charm'd , and always was the same . V. No Storms of Passion ever could molest The happy Calmness of her Breast , A proper Temple for that sacred Dove , That does a peaceful Habitation love , Religion over all her Vertues reign'd , Their Lustre and Security maintain'd , Not to her Closet or the Church confin'd , ( Tho' there with constant Fervour still it shin'd ) Nor yet unprofitably spent , In Theory alone , and Argument , ( Tho' that exactly too she understood ) But in the nobler Task of doing good . In her the ancient Christian Charity We did , but now ( alass ) no more shall see , It is too antiquated grown , For Ladies in these Days to own : But she was form'd by Heav'n , to show What Nature when improv'd by Grace could do ; This stupid slothful Age to teach , To what a Height Humanity might reach . VI . A Soul so made for those bright Seats above , From its Celestial Mansion could not stay , Nor longer be confin'd to Mortal Clay ; It grew impatient to remove : Tho' ne'er did Nature better yet An outward Frame to such a Spirit fit ; As 't will hereafter shine in Robes of Light : 't was here adorn'd with almost matchless white . So sweet an Air , such perfect Symmetry , And that exact Proportion did agree , With such a Soul compos'd of Harmony , Could Vertue drest in Humane Shape appear , Just such a lovely Form she 'd chuse to wear . Thou sooner , Muse , her Beauty shoud'st have told But that , tho' in its self 't was great , And many others it outshin'd , 't was darken'd by the Lustre of her Mind : As in a beauteous Picture richly set , With most Attention we behold the Face , And hardly mind at all the Case , Tho' edg'd with spark'ling Stones , enrich'd with purest Gold : So whilst in her bright Soul we see , So fair an Impress of the Diety , We scarce had Leisure to observe the Shrine , The Saint that dwelt there cast a Splendor more divine . VII . The Blest , who now Triumphant reign , A strict Communion don't disdain With us poor Militants below ; And certainly it was that Truth to show , That on that solemn Day , All-Saints Day ( 96 ) Which to their Memory we yearly pay , Her Guardian Angel summon'd her away . A Pledge of that Communion she was given , ( As fit a one as Earth could yield to Heaven ) And we should ill that Sympathy maintain , If now whilst they rejoice we should complain . To thee ( bright Saint ) were but our Sorrows known , The guilty Tribute ( sure ) thou would'st disown ; We must not mourn , since thou art blest , However hard , extremely hard it be , Our stubborn Grief must be supprest , Since 't is injurious to thy Memory : How muchthy Vertues we admire , By Imitation will the best be shown , And that 's a Task will all our Lives require . FINIS .