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A18733 A feast full of sad cheere vvhere griefes are all on heape: where sollace is full deere, and sorrowes are good cheape. Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604. 1592 (1592) STC 5231; ESTC S104981 9,770 20

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youth A mighty minde in stature meane that ventred life full oft On sea or land among the best that looked most aloft Good writers haue in seueral bookes set forth his value throw That those which on the seruice lookes should honor Holstocke now As lyfe got laude so he at death to friends and children said O babes before I yeeld vp breath and Pilgrims part be plaid I blesse you all and giue my goods among you as I may Then in the bed shrunke downe his head and went like blaze away The good he did in his accounts where soule now pleading is He feeles where heauenly ioy surmounts all kind of earthly blis FINIS The Epitaphe of Doctor Vnderhill latelie B. of Oxforde WHat helpeth hap or due deserts to bee in fauour here Whē life is mixt with such orethwarts we buy our fortunes dere Gay gold or pearle brought home from farre at end consumes away Great fame attainde by peace or warre doth quickly heere decay The loue of friends and fauour won of wise and worthy wights Steales hence like shadow of the sun or stars in moonshine nights Sate I not safely Vnderhill in calmie vale below From bitter biasts and tempests still how ere the winde did blow What suddaine storme then troubles me that had so sure a seate Hath winters wast blown down my tree that feard no summers heat O tell harde Destnies why you did enuy my happy state Infury now O God forbid I should cry out on fate Or braule chide with churlish Death for when we hence must goe What beareth life or draweth breath are horve to die I knoe My friend is gone the passing bell hath rung his rusull end The graue God wote we see full well doth for his corse attende Now Vnderhill lyes vnder ground knit vp in sheete full short Whose wit and learning did abound as Oxford makes report He Bishop was of that faire seate where floods of wisdome floes To whose sweet springs and Fountaine great a world of people goes O would to God he had beene there when he his time did waste And caught conceit some other where that halde him hence in haste His lyfe was such that none could staine with any blot or crime Vnmatcht alone he did remaine and so spent all his time In chaste content and single wise a good report to gaine As one that did this world despise and held all pleasure vaine Held house and table in such rate as though his rent had bin As great as any hie estate whose wealth comes flowing in Kept men that had good gifts of grace lou'd those that worthy were To schollers shewd a cheerfull face relieu'd them eu'ry where His bounty and large librall minde did daily so exceede That he was glad some cause to finde to helpe all those that neede His words were of so great a waight to ballance eu'rie case That who so heard his iudgement straight would giue his wisedome place His sensure made the sentence cleere so shut vp the dout That sure a ioy it was to heare him canuase questions out His loue and zeale to Prince and state in Pulpit was exprest And what thereof he did debate surmounted all the rest His hauiour was so sweet and meeke that men might easely know No vertue was in him to seeke he made so full a showe For friendship faith and dealings iust he past the greater sort An vpright man of speciall trust with passing comely port A thunder-bolt to forraine foes a skurge to each new Sect And one the Lord aboue had chose to be his owne elect Full long before his leaue he tooke and life made his last end Vnto the heauens did he looke and praied with a frend And when the pangs of death arose as sicknes did increase He held vp hands and eyes did close and went away in peace O England hadst thou many such to be thy Iewels now Thou could'st not praise those men too much if thou wilt way them throw Not I alone lament the losse for many more there be A liue to beare this heauy crosse of sorrow now with me FINIS The quick I fawne not on the dead may none dispise Speake well of those are gone is likt among the wise The quick must die or droope as fairest flowre in field Vnto the strongest troope the weakest force doth yield So to the vertuous sort that leaues good name behinde I yeeld but true report to call the dead to minde The vnhappy mans deere adewe that findes nothing good cheape but sorrowe IF Scipio said hys Countrey was ingrate And would not haue his bones be buried there If Tullie found a most vnthankfull state Whose foule rebukes no manly minde might beare Then I may walke like Pilgrim eu'ry where As one compeld to shunne from natiue soyle Where labour long reapt nought but losse and toyle Youth first be guilde in Court with hope forlorne Than middle age all wearied with sharp war And nowe olde eld to liue in lack and scorne Whose wounded limbs showes many a wofull skar And sundry waies consum'd with trauaile far These open plagues and inward griefes of mind Cryes out and saith my Country is vnkinde I seru'd in field foure Princes of greate fame Borne vnder those an humble subiect true Three other Kings of great renowne and name In faithfull sort I seru'd for wages due But heere liege Lords I doe appeale from you That neuer did aduaunce my loyall hart For treble toile for paines nor iust desart Ten thousand haue found Fortunes fauour good Since I began to tread the steps of time And thousands rose that in meane places stoode And to the top of Fortunes wheele did clime Since I possest one dram of worldly slime Yea eu'ry Waspe and hatefull Homble-bee Sucks vp the sap of my poore Cyper tree Like Tantalus I feede and faint for foode No better fare at Fortunes hands I finde Still neere good hap yet farre from quiet moode Tost vp and downe like fether in the winde Neuer thought on but euer out of minde As world should thrust a man from credite quite So seemes to die and yet must liue in spite If any one that stands at VVell-head still Had freely fild my empty bucket bare Or of himselfe had show'd me such good will To leaue some drops of water to my share That I had beene refresht as others are My thirstye throate or skalded hart had felt Some sucker sweet that now with heate doth swelt Or if good mindes of men had broke the yee That keepes by cold the fountaine frozen hard Or turnd the cock the conduit or the vice That vnder locke is long shut vp and bard Or to the Prince my simple sute prefard I silly man had sure possest some place That should make glad my selfe and all my race No Butter cleaues nor sticks vpon my bread No Honny-combes will breede in my bare hyue My gold but glasse my siluer worse then lead My luck as bad as
A Feast full of sad cheere Where griefes are all on heape Where sollace is full deere And sorrowes are good cheape At London Printed for William Holme and are to be sold at his shoppe neere the great North doore of Paules 1592. To the Right Worshipfull my most worthy affectionate friend Maister Iohn Stannop one of the Queenes Maiesties Priuie Chamber Post-maister of England Thomas Church-yard wisheth much hap great health with great prosperity and increase of desired credite I AM BOLD RIGHT VVORshipfull on the generall report of good people and great commendation that the worthiest sort giues you besides mine own affection to present a fewe sorrowfull verses vnto your protection and iudgement And the rather moued to write of some sad inuention because I neuer knewe you delight in light or wanton discourses Many times I haue beheld the eeuen carriage of your behauiour and good inclination towards vertuous exercises studies that many wayes produced as much benefite to those you fauour as procured profit and commoditie to your selfe a naturall disposition of a good minde necessary to bee about Princes and a blessednes that in these dayes is not common among men And for feare I should runne too far in those causes by manifest speeches which is not commonly allowed I desire no more in you but a continuance of goodnes and those vertues rehearsed and so fall I to my purposed matter The troth is good Sir in the long pilgrimage of mine I purchased many good friendes requisite for my infortunat life which friends did no soner encrease but in a manner as quickly went away either by death or some vnwelcome accident and loozing dayly one or an other that stood mee in great steede I bethought me ouer-often on my great losse so shaping a kinde of lamentation in that behalfe to expresse the want of such friendes I presumed to offer you this simple Pamphlet as a testimony to be thankfull to those that did me pleasure the Bishop of Oxford one of the chiefest and to keepe their fauour I honour and loue who now are aliue This trifle in verse is named A Feast of sad cheere because the best banquets I can make to my friendes is but bare Tragedies Epitaphes or such bitter fruite as sewe doe feede on and many takes no taste in the sowrnes of my delicates so little delights a multitude And indeed Syr now I am left voyd of al prouision and am compelled to present such things as comes next to my hande because a Booke called my Challenge dedicated to the honorable Maister Secretarie Wolley hath caried away most or all together of my other conceits yet my hope is this little recreation that I offer you shall be as well accepted as though I could haue feasted you with a finer Banquet for you knowing mine abilitie in furniture and knowledge I trust you will take well in worth what of good will I am able to bring Thus wishing you much harts ease worldly hap and heauenlie felicitie I take my leaue desiring you with fauour to reade that which followeth The Epitaphe of the Right honorable the Earle of Worster that last died Knight of the most honorable order of the Garter NO day so cleere but brings at length darke night Faire flowers doe fade as fast as they doe groe No torch nor lampe but burnes away their light Sunne shines awhile then vnder clowde doth goe The lyfe of man is heere compared so It lasts a space till borrowed breath be paid And then cold corse in Tombe or graue is laid No honor wealth nor force nor wisedomes lore Nor famous praise Prolongs our daies VVhen Death drawes neere and man may liue no more The greatest Kings are onely borne to die Like poorest men their passage hence they take And noble Earles that sits in honor hie And all estates of life an end must make Yet waile I will for worthy Worsters sake His loyall loue to Prince and Country such As in our age can not be praisd too much In Wales well likt in England honord still For lordly minde And hart most kinde To all his friendes which wan the worlds good will Brought vp in Court among the Princely sort Of manner milde as his estate might forde Held stately house with traine and princely port Right spare of speech yet wise and waer in word Most glad of guestes and pleasant at his boord Full franck and free where things were nobly spent To each degree of nature throw-well bent As though a spring in Ragland Castle were To pleasure those That bounty knowes And had desire to draw sweet water there This Earle had ioy to haue his stable fild With faire great Horse that were for seruice fit And was himselfe in ryding as well skild As any man that myght in saddle sit Could vse the Horse with euery kinde of bit On horse and hound had much desire to looke In building to a great delight he tooke In all good gifts and artes had sure some sight Like noble man That now and than Could passe off time with matters graue or light And whan best proofe of him good people had A sicknes came and tooke him hence in hast The newes whereof makes friends neighbors sad Who hopes his soule the heauens haue imbrast Loe Lordings all how heere our time we waste Our daies are short our race is quickly run We slip away like shadow in the Sun To day on foote to morrow downe in graue From world we goe Both hie and loe All Adams seede no better surety haue FINIS THE EPITAPH OF the Right honorable Sir Iames Acrofft late Controller of the Queenes Maiesties Housholde IF world were waxt vnkind and would forget what heere is done And cleane weare out of mind the doubtful race that men do run True writers should reuiue time past for feare old age would rust And some young heads aliue would burie vertue in the dust VVhere are our famous Kings the shepheards of our English heard That conquerd many things and made our enemies all affeard Our world remembers none with princely Tombes or blast of praise They are no sooner gone but their renowne in world decayes Their Counsellers likewise whose wisedome held vp tottring state Once dead we doe despise we beare in breast such hart borne hate Thus world is worse then nought his care and iudgement is so small It neuer takes no thought for nothing heere that may befall But God that all doth see and giues man grace and gift of pen Of late hath moued mee with verse to honour worthy men Than come Syr Iames Acrofft a Knight who serud 4 princes great Who Fortune fauourd oft and who sate long in Senate seate Who was a while vizroy and then of Wales vizpresdent to Did many roomes enioy which none aliue may easily doe Come take the Crowne Ciuicque that Caesar gaue for true renowne Not one may weare the like in warlike fielde or walled Towne But those that