Raven he was, yet was no gloomie fowle, Care came not nigh with his uncomlie head. Somewhile the thicke embranching trees amonge, Where Isis doth his waters leade alonge, Kissinge with modeste lippe the holie soyle, Reflecting backe each hallowed grove the while; Here did my raven trie his dulcive note, Charming old Science with his mellow throat. Sometimes with scholiasts deep in anciente lore, Anon loud laughter shook the arched hall, For mirth stood redy at his potento call. Oxforde, thou couldst not binde his outspred wing, My raven flew where bade his princelye king; Norwiche must honours give he did not crave, Norwiche must lend his palace and his grave; And that kinde hearte which gave such vertue birth Must here be shrouded in the greedie earth. Ofte hath thy humble lay-clerke led along, POEMS. DR. THOMAS RAVIS. In the following tribute to the memory of a fellow-collegian, and predecessor in the deanery of Christ Church, it will not be too much to conjecture that Corbet was urged by gratitude for kindness experienced while the latter was young. The 66 Elegie" was evidently written immediately upon the interment of its subject, as towards its conclusion he complains that no tomb was raised over his remains; a complaint which was soon after obviated, when a fair monument was erected, bearing the following inscription, which contains all that is necessary to be told here of the circumstances of his life and character: |