AN ELEGIE
WRITTEN UPON THE DEATH OF
DR. RAVIS,
BISHOP OF LONDON.
When I past Paules, and travell’d in that walke
Where all oure Brittaine-sinners sweare and talk[36];
Ould Harry-ruffians, bankerupts, southsayers,
And youth, whose cousenage is as ould as theirs;
And then beheld the body of my lord
Trodd under foote by vice that he abhorr’d;
It wounded me the Landlord of all times
Should let long lives and leases to their crimes,
And to his springing honour did afford