that hee died Or how could Pin-dust cast on 's skin Cause his death to enter in Nor would then his Physicians skill Suffer such Fleabites for to kill No this was fatall t was his lot That from euery little spot Should be drawne a line athwart To the Center of his heart Or else God from some higher place Seeded Manna on his face And sure t is so or else hee 'd ne're Haue put him in this Omer heere Then let 's now no more lament The dead whose life so wel was spent That now for land hee heauen doth share By his death a greater Heire But our selues for sure t is worse To bee the Mourner then the Coarse Thomas Lockey Art Bac. ERgone non auidos Musarum expalluit haustus Ille puer salso strenuus ore loqui Ergone non imas puduit redolere lucernas Vt damno afficeret mox grauiore Patrem Siccine selegit mors illum ex omnibus vnum Illum delitiae qui modo Patris erat Dissimulare Patêr iam discas vaetibi Fata Inuida si norînt quis tibi charus erit LOoke on his body chequered o're with spots Looke on his soule vntainted with such blots His purer part is frighted at each sore Two Twins were neuer so vnlike before What wonder if a sudden parting bee Where thus the soule and body disagree Edwardus Croke Art Bac. ANd is our griefe so large can't be confin'd To Place to Time but showne to all mankind Must wee remooue his Corps and so conuey Our Thames to Trent and weare another way With teares to dally with our griefe beare About our losse as if wee playd with feare Where doth this iourny after lifes iourny tend This trauaile after death this endlesse end Resting he moues and dead he stil doth rowle As if his body went to seeke his soule 'T was not because we partners seeke of griefe The greatest sorrowes seldome craue reliefe Let 's then diuide our woes and let each care Enioy that want and in such sorrow share T is fit though heere hee died that countreys wombe That gaue him life should likewise bee his Tombe To die and to bee buried in one place Beseemes common mortality his race Merits no captiue rites then let our losse Bee as diffusiue as his goodnesse was What though hee trace mortality and dye Death 's a Refiner of Nobility And in a fresher mould and purer fire Blazons him in a fairer Character This were an honest comfort if being dead Our griefe could haue their obiect buried If wee onely with our mem'ry did beare And with those eies alone to thinke him here But loe here 's part of him which doth extend His life beyond his life nor doth death end Himselfe though halfe himselfe for now in this We both do view although one whole we misse Nor doe we here retaine a Light so cleare As when two Suns pac'd in one Hemispheare Nor doe Tyndarides diuided shine So bright as when they both their Lights combine When two are link't and parted then wee may An obscure twilight call it and no day Memorials of the good and Pictures doe Restore our griefe and make vs loue our woe So when wee see his Brothers shape these lips These eyes of his these cheekes that face it strips Vs of our sence and foorthwith makes vs frame That t is no Brother Picture but the same And writes his Name afresh lest griefe should dye Each limbe of his speakes his mortality This is our ioy our griefe that wee request Almost of that loue to bee dispossest His yeeres I neede not computate since Fate His riper vertues not his yeeres doth date Which who so dares to number must confesse Hee slanders by commending happinesse But 's richer soule wee must admire not praise That groser Heraldry despaires to blaze Adored Saint or more if more there bee Of thy blest Reliques onely knowne to thee Wee doe confesse th' art gone and yet our losse If told is vnderualued so grosse So young are our complaints that wee lament In petty Notions sorrowes rudiment Our infant teares yet knowes not all our woe Because wee knewe not all that was to growe In him a graft all hope but riper yeeres Shall teach vs how to parallell our teares And so improoue wee may as hee did grow In vertue dayly thriuing in our woe Can then that Riuer which by thee doth slide Bee so vnmindfull not to bee full Tide And not ore-flow his bounds O be so good To saue a wonder lest wee force a flood Swell thou Meander streames let flow thy teares Better proportioned to our fruitfull feares Or let that Dog-starre cause thee to bee spent As t did his life our eyes shall weepe a Trent And make his Tombe an Iland thou shalt bee Shelford more famous for mortality And thou the Wel-spring which with Arts didst flow Bereaued Oxford be a well of woe Let Future times this first note learne of thee Here dyed a Stanhope Thus thou learn'd may bee VVEe doe not here examine why His Tutor suffred him to die As if his watchfulnesse had slept For sure hee was by Argos kept And had hee not a Stanhope beene Hee might his Natures Tutor seeme But wee question that which forc't God and man to bee diuorc't That first Question that Where that Why That sentenc'd first our soules to dye If fruit now haue that power of death As in the child-hood of the earth Which Fruit to cloake we Leaues put on Cloth'd with our owne transgression No know his soule so pure so good And how corruption it withstood That needed almost had his skinne Rather to bee baptiz'd then sinne Though Cherries sowne in such a place That what hee ate hee wore in 's face Yet euery twinkling spot did lye Like Starres but in a fairer Skie Such beauty might the Moone remoue Sooner then Endymions loue And from his kisse her light to come Rather then from that common Sun If then Measels spangled thus Imbroidered his face no worse If his disease so modest bee And blush at it's owne cruelty Then what may his beauty claime Whom his sickenesse thus became And in the twilight of his dayes Chequ'red his countenance with Rayes Presaging like a rubyed night The Sunne awak't to shine more bright If then our griefe bee not at height Behold his Fathers sorrowes weight Whose heauy iourney wing'd with feares Caus'd his body sweat with teares And each officious limbe turn'd eye Claiming their duty for to cry And well I thinke all eye was hee That in a double night did see Nor will I euer that approoue When thus it sees that blind is loue For fatherly affection may Though it bee night create a day Now with an honest heresie I could renounce Philosophy That seeing thus their passions knit His Father did his soule beget And if it were not so then why Did's Fathers Fate teach him to dye And by his Propheticke death Make him 's Heire in 's losse
did heau'n call To haue him there so that he needs must fall If so t is well for it was equity Mankind and hee by the same Fate should dye But though th' art dead thy memorie suruiues And thy good deeds shall out-last others liues Guliel Buckner Art Bac. DEpositum Stanhope tuum memorande supremum Ipse pater patriâ concumulauit humo Nec licuit feretro nobis suspendere Carmen Nec Trentae lachrymas annumerare tuo Nostra tamen similes lacrymarum Nympha lacunas Hauriet Trentâ non minor Isis erit WEepe weepe your sorrowes are well paid 'T is a Stanhope here is laid You that see this Monument And cannot at this sight lament The conscious Marble will you show How to discharge your comely woe Either you may th' occasion sit By melting into teares like it Or if you punish nor your eye By weeping cause it fatally Behold his Tombe then may you mone By standing stupid like the stone Yet both these sorrowes are well paid 'T is a Stanhope here is laid Guli Treshans Equitis Aurat Filius IMmitis properare necem Libitina potirâ— Dum tanto exoptat coniuge fata iubet Spiritus ingenium genius decor oris ortûs Stemmata quem celebrant aemula fatae prema â—â— Indole maturum flos indolis abstulit illum Dum numeraet laudes quis negat esse senem Non aeui breuitate fuit fraudata tropaeis Gloria cum fuerit copia nulla nouis Laude viget cuius fraterna videtur imago Accipere parili reddere fata vice In Canem coelestem eò quòd circa initium dierum Canicularium mortuus sit LEge nimis durâ funebria iusta referre Icarij cogis feruida stella canis Icaria peiora precor tibi fata ruina Dùm tua sic lachrymas sorbet anhela sitis Betrus Tryon Armig. Fil. nat max. In Variolarum luem qua interijt HOc Iuuemem placido decus immortale Sepulchro Aspice qui viuens immaculatus erat Dixissem si non fera Mors morbique perosi Polluerant moriens immaculatus erat Ah Laethi crudele genus cum tetrica vultus Abstulit tenero saeuit in ore lues Dulcia deformes ederunt oscula morbi Nec data sunt auido pura labella rogo Tam celeri si saeua gradu ventura fuissent Nonne alia poterant fata venire via Sed Mors saeua decus properauit perdere vultus Ne posset duras flectere forma Deas 'T Is not Nobility that is of force To stop the Progresse of this Tyrants course Nor mortall can vnto himselfe assume A sparke of time when Fate hath past her doome So fraile are all Earths momentary things That Death a Tribute claimes of greatest Kings But Death hath had her pay and he his Crowne Where neither Death can strike nor Fate can frown Gul. Pennyman Armig. filius natu max. Ex Aede Christi WErt not that dayly spectacles deny A difference betweene Nobility And other Pigmy Mortals good and bad The old and young we iust occasion had Of admiration when we doe behold Thee so good young and noble vnder mould But when the Graues and Sepulchres we view We turne our admiration from you Not wondring that a life so short you led But that our selues haue spun so large a thred Of our Mortality when all places see Some dye continually so that we Need draw our neuer-discontinued teares Vnto the Period of our latest yeeres Here one fall's sicke and dyes there another Griefe for whose death killeth perhaps his Brother Father or Mother so it far'd with thee For not thou onely but a Family Did seeme in thee to die for loe thy Father Secure of any worse mishap had rather Suffer himselfe some perill than that death Before his comming should cloze vp thy breath He comes and iourneying thrice with humble knee Fall's to the Earth yet being vtterly Insensible of this through the great fire Kindled by Loue obtaineth his desire Thy Mother fearing that thy houre was come Striues to bring forth another in thy roome And so with motherly compassion loth To lose the one endangereth you both Thy Brother of thy Fortune aemulous Striues to preuent thee whose ingenuous Loue and good-will to thee did then appeare When thy last houre did shew he held thee deare He faine to heauen would thy fore-runner bee And there prouide place for himselfe and thee Wherefore he often offers willingly Ransome to pay for thy deliuery And on condition thou maist here remaine Dyes often but deny'd reuiues againe To his great griefe at last when nought would doe Cryes out and saies Shall we be parted too T is true you must a while yet weepe no more Since all your teares will not his life restore Then since your weeping can't recall him gone Waile not his death seeke to preuent your owne Ad defuncti fratrem DEfunctus foret ipse sibi tantae indolis haeres Si possent iustae flectere fata preces Sed Natura negat cui munera tanta relinquet Cùm nuda Elysios vmbra pererret agros Deuouet haec fratri hunc haeredem ex asse reliquit Quem socium tantae Nobilitatis habet Viue tibi fratri duplicem sortitus honorem Sisque haeres illi moribus ingenio Thomas Ballowe Alumnus AN Heire and dead must some erected Tombe Cloze in the bowels of an earthly wombe Stanhopes great Heire must it a Trophy bee Of his decease boast we in misery Are these the Lands that he was borne vnto To lye dead in some Ephrons Field of woe O tell me Death why is he turn'd to dust Wilt thou plead Fates decree and cry He must Is thy best reason a necessity Or grounded Maxime in Philosophy He was not old for age he did not dye Nor was the onely cause Mortality This was the chiefest reason he deceast Thy hunger was ingenuous and to feast Was thy desire thou 't not picke the bone Of some Anatomy or Skeleton As for a Carkasse hanging in the Ayre Halfe eaten vp by Time thou dost not care The Wormes are Epicures whose enuious strife Deuoures that Carkasse that had giuen them life Nor can I blame them that they so doe eate Though hee 's a Course yet is he dainty meat Eduard Price Alumnus I Thinke it is a policie in Death To take the young and spare the aged breath Nature 's the bane of old men Times decree Sends them a packing Death they need not Thee Thou onely seru'st to crop our tender yeeres To draw from Parents eyes abortiue teares Thou letst them liue their children tak'st away Knowing that sorrow will be their decay But Death pale enuious Death how could'st thou find Out the sweet picture of so pure a mind Me thinkes although thy bloudy Dart were steel'd With thy sad purpose yet it must needs yeeld To see the Father melting into teares His sad acquaintance and his Brothers feares Who sent as many sighes vnto the Pole As might
of breath So that alone which had the might To part them did them co-vnite Nor doth goodnesse cease with breath See liberality after death Gilding each Parish as they fall For each place claimes his Funerall Where he raines a siluer showre Making each Towne like Danaes Towre Or as a snaile which neuer more Returnes the way sh'ath gone before Christals the path where shee doth passe To signifie there her way was Nor any other Tombe shee 'le haue But her shell her house her graue So will Stanhope no where lye But where hee had 's natiuity Though Aegypt claimes hee died in her Yet Canaan must his bones interre Richardus Chaworth Art Bac. IS Stanhope dead and are our eyes yet dry Can wee out-face our griefe so constantly Doth not hard-hearted Athens yet lament That is depriu'd of such an Ornament A Sonne and a Mecaenas Can shee find One that deseru'd so well that 's left behind Mourne then sad Athens and in memory Of such ahopefull Sonne weepe out an eye Doe something that posterity may know So great a losse cannot bee smother'd so And you sad Brothers whose yet weeping eyes Threaten a flood of teares whose memories Are yet fresh-gauld with sorrow whose hearts weepe Channels of blood for teares whose checkes yet keep The furrowed gutters where their sorrow flowes Whose foreheads are the ensignes of their woes Make him a verse or two let him not dye And perish quite from the worlds memory Hurle something into feet and let it runne Madding abroade to tell what Death hath done Had hee this entertainement when hee came To honour Athens might not Stanhopes Name Haue priuiledg'd him from death could Shelford giue Him to himselfe and send him heere to liue And must wee giue him death must Athens prooue A Step-mother and quite forget to loue Yet thus much let vs honour him though dead Let him bee honourably buried Yet that 's not all wee must not leaue him thus Our sorrow must bee more ingenious One that deseru'd to liue so long as he Must not bee hasten'd to his destiny Thus farre his death hath brought him let vs striue To reinfomre him that hee may reuiue And thus much crosse the Fates that thus much durst To make him liue when they haue done their worst Let vs record his vertues which deseru'd To bee ingrauen in gold or bee reseru'd In trusty Caedar which when wee are dead Among our childrens children may bee read Where some may ioy to heare them told and some May lispe them out as they were taught at home They neede not feare mis-reckoning hee had all And all hee thought a number too too small Hee was an heauen on earth in whom combin'd His vertues like a Constellation shin'd In which each starre prickt with a iealous feare Did striue to bee the glory of his Spheare His Noble birth shin'd like a Ruby set To bee the grace of a rich Cabbinet His education shaddowing it o're So well becom'd it that it shin'd the more His pretty and ingenuous face did looke Like the good Title of an honest Booke His comely shape which did become him best Look't like the Sanctuary of the rest As if the patterne were some Deity Which Nature coppied his perfections by Vertues amazed with a fond delight Gazing and doting at so sweet a sight At length with full embraces did oppresse This Microcosme or world of happinesse Where with an emulating industry Each shewing an obsequious Piety Labour'd to better Nature and goe on With that rare work which nature had begun His affable and willing Courtesy Claim'd vpper hand of his Nobility He was right Noble borne of Stanhopes blood But was thrice Noble being borne so good His courteous salutings seem'd to bee Notable Emblemes of humility His heart was like his eyes which towr'd so high They stoopt not to the lure of vanity Doe yee not wonder yet then stay and see His learning ballanc'd with his infancy Marke but how young hee was how ripe in wit His learning him and hee had honour'd it Hee needes not Armes to shew his Ancestry That was so Noble by 's owne Heraldry Neither need Logicke prooue hee was a man When he could proue as much as logicke can Could hee bee idle that with easie paines Summon'd each Coast call'd them by their names Wanted he knowledge whose Minority Durst be acquainted with Philosophy Speake art thou yet so stupid to deny That he was too good for Mortality He was growne old in goodnes and could see The way to heauen euen in his Infancie Henricus Humberston Art Bac. Vpon the custome to pay to euery Parish through which the dead Corps is carried WHy i st you stop our rites as though a Dearth Of Pence had made new ferry-meÌ„ on earth And i st such charges for to dye that wee By Water and by Land too pay a Fee Why with such strictnesse doe you aske your pay As though you bargain'd for the Kings High-way I thought at least our Carkasse might haue bin Quiet in Death in that our latest Inne Or that naild Coffins or vnwrapped Lead From all vexation safe had kept the dead Let him in peace walke to his silent Caue To the long solemne progresse of his graue Trouble not his Procession for ye Him this way wandring neuer more shall see He comes not to possesse your grounds or lands Or â—n your Tenements to seaze his hands He is no Court-messenger to take in Lodgings or house-roome for the State or King Hee 's but 's owne Harbinger to prouide roome E'ne for a little earth sixe foote of Tombe Then let him passe vntroubled with those feares And wee will follow after with our teares O let 's wrap one teare vp to shew his Hearse Hee cannot bee so soone forgot a Verse Well spent Embalmes him richer then the cost Of precious oyntment on his body lost Which onely for the Wormes perfumes his flesh And makes it but more handsome rottennesse But this doth quicken Fame and this doth raise A volume of sorrow for after-dayes That men ten Ages hence may weepe to see Such hopefull Plants such thriuing grafts as hee So young and yet so full of age so good To feele vntimely blasting in the bud As though 't were Natures pride to deale with vs As Mothers with their froward Infants vse Who bribe them quiet with a costly Iemme But being still doe steal 't away agen The world was peeuish froward till to light Was brought this rich this high-priz'd Margarite Which being seene gaz'd on and wondred at Was reconuai'd to Heauen its proper seat Where Angels ware it any blest powers it set In their owne truely-glorious Cabinet No sooner had we seene this Iemme but see The want thereof such happinesse haue wee So blessed are we O what greater ill To haue had good and not to haue it still How we renew our griefe how prone we bee To shead new teares as often as we see Thy Fellow-Brother sadly
doe kisse his feete Hee thinkes they mocke him goes to th' open streete Where as hee walkes beleeues each tongue and eye To speake and looke his Brothers destiny A Lethargie's on mee nor can I write What 's Poet-like while I conceiue this spite Of vniust Fortune yet I cease to brawle A Satyre ill becomes a Funerall If euer it did thine the Poets braine Could ne're inuent such a malignant straine As fortune acts on thee while thou preuent The Dog-dayes Physicke in deaths punishment Thy face may rebeget in th' Mothers Wombe A Monster fram'd of griefe whose liuing Tombe Shall bee the hearts of all that doe lament To see this Coffin this Heires Tenement I dare not cease lest iudg'd by my owne feares To bee as thrifty of my lines as teares Yet who respects them stones doe sweat and weepe Other mens sorrowes but when those that sleepe Awake and know neglect of friends they then Will gratifie more Marble stones then men But feare not thou hee that shall euer see Thy Brothers shaddow sure will thinke it thee Thou liuest in him though dead and as thou dyed Thou seemest to dye in iest so sweetly lyed Each colour in his owne place fear'd to part Thinking thou imitat'st a Players Art But now they 're vanisht yet thou art not farre A Planet here aboue a fixed Starre Thou though an Heire wert but an earthly clod Yet Death hath made thee more an Heire with God Thomas Motershead Art Bac. TErra sepulchrum funus lachrymaebreues Et complementum quodque plebeiae necis Procul recedant fortis et doctus dolor Emanet oculis spiret musam nisi Totus virilis plenus dignus Deo Aeternitati noster atque vmbraepiae Litet Poeta carminis vires sui Hinc mutuetur hinc quibus vitam dedit Ipsum cadauer melius ah daret sibi Sumus argumento docti at nobis tamen Hoc istud aufers victor at quare procul Frater recedit Mors in hunc vires suas Experta victa est igitur in fratrem ruens Pudore rubuit verecundo dolo Intus recedens occupat cordis sinum Et se fateri metuit hinc audax foras Egressus ipse est addit morbo suo Cerasi ruborem cuius insidias ADAM Non ipse fugeret mortis miro modo Rubore nimto pallet ah tandem nimis Et ipse palles spiritus tanquam duos Animaret vnus incipis primùm mori Docesque natum qui patrizauit nimis Nimiumque monstrat indolem promptam suam Leto vel ipso gaudet discens mori Campana magna sonuit nato tibi Ambosque gemuit ipsa secretò tamen Horamque Nonam facta iam fallax boat Mortemque pariter timuit hanc palam loqui Dormite tandem non Magistratus opus Autoritate est ambulat tantum dolor Turgensque factus quisque iam lachrymis suis Inebriatur gemitus Epicuros facit Solare iam te fortiter tandem gemas Solare coniugem ecce qui vicit necem Spes germinantes reuiuentes duos Vno videbis corpore mentem gerens Geminatam in vno fiet Henricus tibi Fraterque ipse cerasa tam fratri mala Labris in ipsis gestat atque eius potest Imago mortis esse qui vitae volet Epitaphium HOc situs in tumulo est pro quo lapis insitus illo Marmoris in lachrymas quisque solutus erit Canus doctrinâ est annis quam paruus at istos Quos natura negat tradidit ipse sibi Nobilitans stirpem virtutum soenore haeres Patris opum merito qui pietatis erat Occidit Oxonij iacet hìc terrae ista gemiscit Ereptum quem sic haec habuisse dolet Debuit at luctus tam publicus esse iacere Vno non poterat tanta querela loco Posuit officij ergò Geor. Aglionby Art Bac. Vpon the vntimely death of the Right Noble Gentleman Master Iohn Stanhope Sonne and Heire to the Right Honourable Philip Lord Stanhope Baron of Shelford SO great so good and yet so soone to dye Sure there was Godhead in 's mortality Of which the greedy heauens enuying the earth Snatcht to themselues leauing to vs a dearth Of goodnesse of vertue a meere penury Blasting the hope of an vnstain'd family Vnstain'd and free from such grand villanies Which poison Honour hee knew none of these Hereditary euils and crimes which some As 'twere essentiall bring euen from their wombe But like to Demi-gods all his Progeny Were good and honest innocent as hee Hee whose refined soule goodnesse alone Ingrost clayming each vertue as his owne Who with his other-selfe did still appeare Like to the Twins in heauen and shone as cleare No cloudy vice did e're eclipse their light They shone by day as th' other doe by night And as they were so did they Brothers proue But not so much by Nature as by Loue. Whos 's sharpest anger ne're did mooue their blood The strife was onely which should bee most good Thus curious Nature stroue to shew her Art In these giuing two bodies but one heart And such an heart which each would sacrifice To dry the teares flowing from eithers eyes Mee thinks I see when one diseased lay The others loue steale the disease away And when his sickenesse broke foorth of the skinne With what resolued loue hee strooke it in To free his Brother and to bee sure at last Rather then faile hee 'd perish by the taste Of fruit enuy'ng his cheekes seeming to bee Th' vnhappy fruit of a forbidden tree By which perceiuing death to hasten on Hee breath'd out prayers with such deuotion That his religious Father doubtfull stood If hee should liue or die hee died so good Whose blest departure prou'd him thus to bee Full ripe for heauen in his infancy Row Crosbey Art Bac. TO tell our losse so well to each man knowne Were to lament our selues not him that 's gone That were to cry out helpe to those that lye By the same griefe dead to eternity Alas that men may fully vnderstand Whom 't is they lose requires thy braine thy hand But since th' art gone and wee cannot relate Thy worth so liuely yet let 's imitate Thy life by one that 's left vs for no other So perfect is as thou art in thy Brother For what thing was it thou enioyd'st aliue That thou didst not impart or wholy giue Vnto thy Brother hee againe as true Thought himself then most blest when most like you And of this loue there euer was such shew As it was thought they would haue both dy'd too Perchance he ate the Cherries for to make Himselfe red-colour'd for his brothers sake But O vnhappy triall they did proue Too crafty farre for his well-meaning loue Did we not lose enough when Adam fell By thee curst Fruit but thou must longer still Produce our miseries and when w' are best By tempting one must murther all the rest Was he too good for Earth
haue made or else excus'd a soule The Roome mournd where he lay the weeping stones Ioyn'd with his friends in their relenting mones Death migt haue well mistaken being sent For one to see so many that wayes bent The Father three times offerd to haue payd Him-selfe for his Sonnes ransome had Death stayd His hasty hand hee had found many more That had bin fitter to haue payd this score Alas he was but in the blossom yet Of tender yeeres though aged for his wit Hee had some insight into euery Art That to Nobility might adde a part His Parents reapt as much ioy from his spring As many childrens Haruest home doth bring But hee is fled away to passe the time Hee ow'd to vs in a farre better Clime There shall his Summer and his Haruest bee Where hee shall neuer any Winter see Then Parents grieue no more for he 's in ioy Doubt not wipe yours his teares are wip't away Death tells mee he was old enough to die And young enough to liue eternally Geruase Warmstrey Alumnus WHat fatall booke is this which doth declare That Noble Stanhop's house has lost her heyre A Sermon preach'd at Shelford ah tisso Stanhope is layd in Earth these lines of woe Demonstrate he is dead yet stay wer 't he Oxford would put on sorrowes liuery Each Colledge mourne in ashes euery Hall Looke like the Embleme of a Funerall Christ-church would sink in ruine were he gon On whom shee built her hopes foundation Dulnesse has seaz'd vpon me can I reade That vertue 's slaine yet iudge not Stanhope dead Betweene which two there was such league that o◠Could not subsist the other beeing gon In Churches why should Death triumph and bee Hanging vp Banners of her victory What siege of Honour has shee won Is' t all That shee has payd to Fate one Funerall And that of feeble youth yong Stanhope dyes ' Cause else shee knowes not where to tyrannize It had beene Iustice if some hoary head Had felt this deadly dart and perished To bee vniust is Death's iust attribute For shee did murder him not execute But why should wee her murders thus relate Death 's but the Executioner of Fate Fate was to blame whose too too greedy hand Did breake his thred of life as loth to stand The leisure for to cut it with her sheeres And so at once rob'd him of many yeeres This is not all his theft's farre greater yet In robbing him Fate rob'd vs all of wit For Stanhope might haue liu'd a worke to raise Which mought frō Sydney's Temples pluck the Bayes At least haue equall'd him such hopes his braine Did promise to the world to bring againe But wee haue lost him strangers which but heare How good he was are forc't to shead a teare Well may his Father say hee is vndone Hee onely knew the worth of such a Sonne Let others thinke it strange that griefe should bee As bold as death to worke a Tragedy Thrice did his Father sound as if his Ghost Would take a Farewell of his son that 's lost Yet wher 's your wonder here at such a sight I would not think it strange to dy outright So would hee but one Death cannot suffice T' expresse his griefe therefore hee after dyes And could his sorrowe quit his son from Death Hee 'd neuer leaue to grieue whilst he had breath Will. Hemmings Alumnus TRiste onus Hexaphori moestaeque Epicedi◠turbae Inuitant lachrymas ore madente pias Occidit alma Hebe patris spes gloria fratrum Qui partu primus funere primus erat Vendicat hanc Natura hanc moesta Academia prolem Arsque suam petit hanc Nobilitasque suam Laurea cum moesca certat numerosa Cupresso Charta istos cineres et leuis vrna petunt Sed de virgineo ne sit discordia vultu Mors citiùs praedam vendicat atra suam Igne crepent gemmae Domini noctescit ocellus Huic gemmae nusquam gemma superstes erit Pingues quos tantùm capiti modò sparsit odores Iam caput et plantas corpus et omne linant Sed tamen vnguento meliori funera lauit Dum soluit nimijs imbribus ora parens At toti lachrymae non suffecêre dolori Pars erat in vultu plus tamen intùs erat Quid miserande Pater langues animoque liquescis Cur fugit exanimis membra supina cruor Siste Pater gemitus et vitae parce ruenti Vitam non satis est huic tribuisse semel Pace tuâ valeant manes permitte quietem Et praeter famam murmura nulla sonent Manibus Augustis non pandit Cerberus aulam Iam canis aethereus regnat astra parat In Eundem HIc splendidius decus Parentū Orta stemmate nobili propago Funestum posuit citò cadauer Et compagine spiritus soluta Languentis malè corporis fauillae Extincta est Lachrymas mouent sorores Et moestae Tragico sonant boatu Dum Parcea indociles fauore flecti Primae stamina dissecant iuuentae Quis non exequijs liquescat istis Et fati scelus improbet seueri Sed fundant Tetricae minas sorores Non condet Libitina saeua Famam Vita perfruitur beatiori Extentoque diu superstes aeuo Vitam artis trahit sepulchra ridet O pectus iuuenis Vale quietum Solennes feretri rogos superbi Dum plaudit famulante musa cantu Et coetus iuuenûm modestiorum O sit terra tibi leuis Precamur Terrae tam leuis antè qui fuisti Franciscus Minne Alumnus ANne ego te Iuuenem Stanhope putabo Senemue Cuius verna dies gloria cana fuit Cuius in decimâ vix quintâ aestate senectus Imperat puerum non puerum esse sinit Sic non iustus eras non fortis doctus ad Annos Sed potuit virtus praecipitare dies Non data longa tibi est facta est longissima vita Nec viuendo breuis sed moriendo fuit Iohannes Donne Alumnus NObilis atque sagax properae virtutis alumnus Et patris patriae gloria prima suae Occidit impubis raptus trieteride quinta Eheu quà m Parcas iam rapuisse pudet Vidêre vt multa canum virtute sorores Crediderant viridis qui fuit esse senem DEATH alas could none but hee Suffice thy greedy Tyranny Wel thou knowst that thousands more Long haue run vpon thy score And with all humility Yeeld themselues as due a fee. Thy subtile cruelty is spide Whilest in one a thousand dy'de Hadst thou tane Achilles Dart Strucke and then releas'd that smart Thou hadst done well Once or twice It was thy sport to let him rise Out of his Bed Now he stray'd Too farre with thee now he stay'd So Apollo slew his friend Hyacinthe against his minde Whil'st the Quoit that he had thrown Smote his gentle Play-mate downe Grieue not then for him that 's gone See Death's sorry for what 's done Let no cryes oppresse your eares Dry O dry