No more with sorrow let it then be said
The glorious Albemarle is dead.
Let what is said of him triumphant be,
Words as gay, as is his Fame,
30And as manly as his name,
Words as ample as his praise,
And as verdant as his bays,
An Epinicion, not an Elegy.
Yet why shouldst thou, ambitious Muse, believe
Thy gloomy verse can any splendours give,