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A19911 A select second husband for Sir Thomas Ouerburie's wife, now a matchlesse widow Davies, John, 1565?-1618.; Overbury, Thomas, Sir, 1581-1613. Wife, now a widowe. 1616 (1616) STC 6342; ESTC S109367 27,255 98

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hee did ascend Whence brightly falling grac't a gloomy end A Friend of Faith or Heau'ns most faithfull Friend Still pray'd to know the number of his Dayes To be prepar'd the better for his Ende Then hee that knowes his latest moment stayes On ●…rer Ground thogh neer Deaths horrid house Than they that stād on Rocks more dangerous A prease of People prest to pray for grace For him that dies at heau'ns bright gates do beat And wings make of their Words to fanne the Face Of Highest Iustice so to coole her heate This was His priuiledge that so did die Heau'd vp to Heauen past reach of Infamie A violent-violent-death then to the soule is mild But on the BED of Death most sterne is Hee Where oft he makes our Minds Manners wild Then Grace nor Nature with it doth agree But Hee Al-wise repos'd in Passions strife Held this strait Death the easiest dore of LIFE The force of feare those succors oft betray Which Reason offers but this ill-good Man No councell held with feare in Deaths affray But in his Triall tryde what Reason can Affoord for fence without distracted mood So made his worst of Ill his best of Good To fall from Fortune sitting on her Knee From Wife and Children and what else is deare Yet from the helpes of Reas'n not once to flee Is compleat Uertue making Uice to cleare Her way to GLORY through shames nether hell This Cast was ill but thus he plaid it well So well a Cast so ill is seldome plaid Scarse in a world of Time we meete with such whose worth too cheap imploid in iudgmēt waid Was found more deare then cleare on tryals Touch Abstracting from his fault worth makes his fame To fly to heau'n to glorifie his shame If those in this sadde Playes Catastrophe Play their dire Parts no worse all Dignitie Is lesse then is their Blisse and gloryes-Sea Wherein ore-wholm'd they shall still liuing dye But Courage comes frō Heau'n it must giue That Worth in Death on which Fame still shall liue But t' is an Hell to all voluptuous hearts To leaue Youth Beauty Honors Wealth and all That 's deere to Sense to play such dismall parts And from the height of State with shame to fall But what of pure necessitie must bee Must well be borne to honor high-Degree For publike-hate though for the hatefull'st Cause Will soone be turn'd to Loue by playing well Unpittyed parts Nay it makes Iustice pawse Ere doome them death who neere it so excell Thogh Common-hate the great'st Offenders teares Yet it bewails their wel-born death with Teares For though it burne as quenchlesse yet it is Extinguisht quite by seeing loth'd ones play Beloued Parts in Death or Miseries Their Eyes that hold their hearts their hearts doe sway A ruthfull Obiect though most loath'd before Is pittyed when fell Spight can doe no more O Diu'll how canst thou beeing as thou wast In thy Creation most Angelicall And but in Will for one prowd Thought disgrac't How canst thou ioy in so much griefe of all Why art so prest but on meere Fraylties Spells For Mankindes plague to leaue the nether Hells What Charmes and Incantations haue such strength As frō those Holls to hale thee there being bound With Chaines of Darknesse of the shortest length Lyes it in their words Sense or in their sound No t is no word of Reprobation can Command thy Seruice but to cousin Man Thou art a Spirit and therefore canst thou looke Into the Brest of NATVRE and thence take Her chiefest Secrets from the darkest Nooke Or Loue or Lust t'enflame enrage or slake Thou canst by such make Puppets tho of lead To strike Desire in liuely'st Bodyes dead Thou on the Bodyes oft of blessed Soules Hast leaue to vse thy pow'r in various kindes But for theyr Good else Hee thy pow'r controules That guards their souls frō harm trō ill their minds Yet waking and asleepe thou canst to fight Produce but Shades to make the Minde too light And Mindes so light will lightly nothing weigh Of Shame and heauyest Death that lye betweene Them and their Ends who make it but a Play To drowne a Comedye through hate and teene In Blood and Bane such Turners were of late Asturnd vpō these Poles such Spheares of Fate Can Witch-craft in the Abstract so bewitch The Mindes of those of Minde and Meanes to be So base for Lucre so to touch Shames Pitch As still will cleaue to theyr Posteritie But Charmes can make no soules to sinne so sore But such as GRACE had less for sinne before Now prostrate let me deer Liege turne my speech To thee who in thy Iustice lookst ' like God No such Crime spat'st thou yet stād'st in the Breach Thy Iustice makes to stay Heau'ns iustest rod So thou like God dost grieue whē thou hast cause To cut off those whom thou hast made by lawes And though thou lose their Bodyes with iust griefe To please thy iuster Iustice yet thy Care Deare Care to giue their fainting soules reliefe Yer Death giues leisure so doost spoyle and spare In iust Ires grace that tho thou them forgo The HEAD doth with the Members suffer so Drad Lord I would thy patience were not prou'd So much with crimes of so immense extent And that thou sphear of all our State wert mou'd Vpon no aduerse Poles of discontent So should thy lower spheares of rule obay But thine and moue as thine their diffrent sway The Care 's a Canker to thy sacred life Thou hast to keepe thy compound people one Twixt worlds of aduerse powrs are worlds of strife Which humane-powre can scarce in shew attone O then who weighs a Burden of such stresse But is opprest with weight past Heauinesse But we that lie as farre from wealth as warres In low obscuritie of state do see With sight the more contracted all the starres That light to see thy cause of iealousie Whose oppositions in thy spheare of Pow'r Oft giue for which we grieue thee cause to low'r But as an Arch of many stones composd Would fall but that they one another let So may their odds in thy states Arch inclosd Make it more euen so more strength to get Though one Stone fall to ruine let his place Be soon supplyd by one of greater grace Then the more weight of powre they do sustaine The firmer will the ARCH be to vphold Thine HONORS burden folded in thy TRAIN And make thy state and stay more manifold So shall thy stay when states re-chaosd lie Make thee great Steward to ETERNITIE Finis SPECVLVM PRODITORI This takes the vulgar Eare That loues the plaine and cleare But neither mine nor those That hugge proude Verse in Prose KIngs Gods on Earth so call'd by Him of Heau'n How dismall is your Deities estate Who while you life do giue are life bereau'n And oft for too much lone get too much hate Whose surest Forecasts stand on sixe and seauen Which with you Soueraignes
will Their proper good keepe from improper ill And such an hand still beare thou on the raines As bridle may with ease their Coltish will With ease to either for to neither paines Are pleasing so that kindnesse do not kill As fond Apes do their yong Thy children so Thy will with ease shall still both do know Yet to their carriage euer haue an Eye And check when least they trip lest much they fal Nay beare not with them euen the light est lie The burden's more than may be borne with-all So with strict vse of going-well they will With pleasure beare thē selues most vpright still Thy Seruants Portions of thy goods if ill Mend with sound strokes but yet remember'd be Thou hast a Master too and thwartst his will Then strike for that as he for this should thee Do as thou wouldst be done to is his Heast Than do no more but so to do is best Those of her Sex set vnder her command Leaue to her chastisement when they mis-do The Seruant-maide waits on her Mistresse hand Then by that hand she should be punish't too It 's far more lowe then mans worth should aspire To hurt a maide in sport much more in ire Hirelings that are not yet as meniall More freely vse then thy bond-seruants still Yet not as to one good giue grace to all But let thy front distinguish good from ill From whose squint-eyes hide wel thy il-vsd pow'r For it they 'l vent with breath as soft as sow'r Prouision soule of hospitalitie To Inne it well must be the husbands care Magnificence liues by Frugalitie Be sparing then to spend and spending spare Beare and Forheare forbeare least vaine expence Of wealth to beare vp thy Magnificence Labour to Be but idle be to Seeme Sith but to seeme is idle so shalt thou Be held more deere the lesse thou dost esteeme Of thine owne worth To rise then is to bow But in thy house thou must retaine that state That there is fittest to predominate Thou must b' a King a Prophet and a Priest To gouerne teach and pray so Masters ought To be lesse good than wise doth ill resist To be more good than wise is euill thought For gouernment for such will fall at length By the strong pow'r of their owne weaknes strength When thou dost feast so that the poore fast not Feast thou as oft as well thy state may beare Haue Guests that haue no pleasure in the pot But sadly game some witty as austere So shalt thou bind to thee in loue at least Men worth thy meate in earnest and in iest Life and Societie do so accord As if they be diuided die they will And frolicke Fate doth lightly load that Bord That seeds the honest and the hungry still Yet boord no Buffons that are boorders broad Their Loue is light and yet a heauy loade They are but Baskets of the Diuels almes Which keepe his scraps of wit for wicked wills These wound with will then giue witty balms With laughter seed than bring in saddest Bills Meere moaths of great-men good-mens eyesores O! I would nor good nor great men such did know Then such to shun and with them other Pests Pray euer to be taught in Wisedomes schooles And craue the Master of thy soules requests To blesse thee from the sacrifice of fooles Be thou not Bell whose guilefull Priests did eat While senslesse he lookt on his means meat Let Mornes and Eu'nings neuer passe their prime But with the little Church or petty state In thy home's signiory pray out that Time To be preseru'd from Sense so reprobate Then Wisedome Feare and Loues deuotion shall Be as Triumvirate to rule thine All. And when thy life thus spent draws neer her date Let Prudence and Compassion penne thy Will For they 'l make Loue and Right so part thy state As All shall like and for it loue thee still So Thine and th' other Thine the poore shal be Still ioy'd in griefe and grieu'd in Ioy for thee Now sleeps this husband in his latest home While heau'nly glory watcheth when he wakes To take him to her temple from his tombe Sith Fame her selfe of him an Idoll makes But Heau'nly glory enuy'ng his Fames praise Swallows Fames beams into her brighter raies Which will but more discouer by their light The best of husbands staines that scarce appeare By which their own clear raies becom most bright Yet all too browne for her that is more cleare Then shine fair Pair tilsom more heau'nly sprites Do make your glory like the light of lights And let her Fame flie euer in the Aire Of the sweet'st Muses breath that ere shal breath The Aire of Art and Nature till Despaire Damne Enuy looking stil but for her death But selfe-life cannot die Then this deare Wife Shall liue till death be endlesse Glories life Finis DIVERS ELEGIES TOVCHING THE DEATH OF THE NEVER TOO MVCH PRAISED AND PITIED SIR THOMAS OVERBVRY T'Insult vpon the wretched is a Crime That harsh and hatefull makes the smoothest Rime If One all Ils in one should perpetrate His Person should be priuiledg'd from hate In loue that makes men God-like for if God Be grieu'd where he hath cause to vse his Rod The griefe is for the Person not the paine Which partly he in loue doth so sustaine He made not Death nor doth he take delight To damne for doing wrong but for his right Nor for his right grieues soules to ruinate But dy'd in loue to saue them from his hate The Iudge that would be lik'st him when he giues His Doome on the Delinquent most that grieues Powders his words in Eye-brine so to tast Of grace to them that so condemn'd are grac't Then let no fault how-euer capitall The faultie Person make so loth'd of al That he for it should so be'rest of heart As in despaire to wracke his better part Though one should ruine all the world yet he If we could helpe it should not damned be For for but temp'rall faults eternall Torters We cannot wish t' our killers and be Martyrs But yet O yet To let the good-man die For goodnesse shewne without our lowdest cry For Iustice for so damn'd so diu'lish Crime Were iust damnation to the Place and Time Wherein we liue and Priests might sermon thus T were better to be ill than good with vs. Enough for that but ne're enough of Him That so was wrackt Then flow my Tears swim Sad Muse therein till thou attaine the Port Of his Arts-fame beneath his Good-report And yet that fame aboue our sight doth fly For rich composure in sweete Poesie And percht so hie aboue our cunnings spheare That All may follow still but None come neere No Line in his rich Numbers confluence But more than bounds a boundlesse Sea of sense Through all the Cauernes of a Braine as pure As euer did the Queene of Art immure They glyded still with vnconceiued sleight Yer they to view transported
his conceit Nor onely so but held the best things vaine That easly fall into a world of Braine But onely that he tooke that hardly fals Into the Braines of Arts best Generals That ere his Theughts obiected were to sight Our Sense might wel perceiue his thoughts to fight For place and grace and all to grace his Wife Now matchles widow were they thus in strife His Common-sense and phantasie conuey'd Their Obiects to his Iudgement to be weigh'd But for hervse yet so as hee is thought To be the Best that euer Arte hath wrought His Mindes cleare Eye pry'd narrowly to spie What well would grace her yer it come to Eye Not like some idle Poets of our Time That ouersee great Reason for small Ryme And from Inuention take what comes vnwaigh'd By Iudgement with the Understandings ayde To farse great Bookes with Ignorance farre greater Which neretheless oft better sell than better Minerua mend this Misse or take them hence That strangle innocent Intelligence With lines too rude for Mules But our Apollo Made none that made not all his Priests to follow Drawne by the Eares to the Similitude Of his Artes beauty and Beatitude But enuious FATE vnable to abide A Man that was like God so glorifide For faire Desert with Uenom did inuent A way to bane the wittiest Innocent That euer dyde to liue for liue hee must And shall in fame a Martyr in his dust For wrackthe was for his Integrity By the high hand of Pow'r and Iniury Who for but leading blinded Loue aright Was ah misdone by that Loues banefull spight O pittie past compare O dire Euent Of truest loues so laudable intent Words cannot vtter it and Wit 's too weake To shew the ruth of it Swell heart and breake Then sith nor words nor wit can ere suffise To shew the ruth that from lesse fals doth rise And t'vndergoe the blaze of this distresse Makes my Pen straddle with the heauinesse Rest here sad Pen sith all thy sable Teares Are lighter than this Cause of cares and feares For if from thee but one Teare should descend So blacke as It that Teare would feare a Fiend Or if through thee one Teare should fall in Print So sad as it that Teare would teare a Flint I. D. An Epitaph WIt Art and Nature made a three-fold warre To reigne 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 peace in him which here doth lie Wit straue with Art and both though regular With Nature ioyning straue for Soueraigntie But Prudence with her powr's still bent to peace Keeping the Sconse that did his whole command The warre surceased for his Worthinesse That onely It had then the vpper-hand Yet selfe-diuided-honesty beheld That peace in warre with her owne Charitie Thē bent her powr's to make their powr's to yeeld So all sub du'd to selfe-Integrity But Fate best friend but to the most profane Stirr'd vp the hand of Hate in heart of Pow'r And all in shew of Loue to worke his bane So from Minerua's crown soone cropt this flow'r Yet ere it went it left such Aire though dimme As makes all sweete that sauours but of him Mirum in Modum IFeuer Time or Fate produc't such Crimes As may shake hell with horror but to neare The instant NOW may flow to After-times To drownd thē with amazement griefe and feare For if the fluxion of this instant NOW Effect not That noght wil that Time doth know Yet Time as yet but shewes as through a glasse Part of the whole but by that parts extent Iudgement may guesse in euill it doth passe As farre beyond beliefe as precedent Loue fain would hide it yet heau'ns iustest hate Deems that grace damnd that it would palliate Yet Iustice nought reueales but for the day Wherein her tryals be and that 's no more Than the Offender doth himselfe bewray Which is but part of trecheries greater store This poyson-plague is so contagious that T is fear'd it spreds to inwards of more state Should I my selfe at whom Loue first doth aime And yet not selfe-loue so offend I should In Conscience damne my selfe t'an hell of shame Sith neither Time nor Place such sinne do hold For greatest Crimes but to extenuate Is but the Doers crime to aggrauate To cloke a fault so fowle and yet so cleare Is in the Sunne the vgliest Toade to hide With banefull aire through which it doth appear More vgly farre and by it more espide Then Penitence not Impudence doth win The greatest grace t'acquit the greatest Sin None otherwise then as the Lion's said To spare to spoyle his humble yeelding prey So by high'st grace is highest Iustice staid At point to strike when yeelders mercy pray But her t' affront with pride or stubbornnesse Makes her more horrid and grace mercilesse Say Greatnesse VVhat accompt wilt make to heau'n For making those that tend thee to attend On nought but mischiefe not to be forgiu'n Standst thou not charg'd with both their crime If so a world of Penitence must cleare end A sinne so base perform'd at rate so deere And O! suppose you heare your captiue's cals Deepe groanes and out-cries while in 's bowels rag'd An hell ofhe ate yet moand but by the wals Resounding but his griefe 's cries vnasswag'd In whom the force of Nature being yong Wrastled with paine his torments to prolong As Life and Nature had with Bane and Death Cōspir'd to make him feele more Deaths thā one So groan'd he stil as Death would seise each breath He fetcht for life yet liu'd but still to groane Yea groane alone and that in hells of paine Augments the griefe nay makes it more than raigne Hee tooke no meate but in it Poyson tooke Nor Drinke he drank but brewed was with Bane Yet as if poyson had it selfe for sooke It ceas'd to kill but yet grew more immane For so it rag'd within him that it made His Heart-strings crack yet did their breach euade Iustice great Arbitresse of all that 's done In Time or Place though outwardly but blinde Because shee knowes no persons needs must run Vpon thee blind-old led thereto by Kind For nought stands in her way but down it goes Though high as heau'n to hellish ouerthrowes Then deem I MERCY well prouides for such As so offend by Iustice so to fall For so thogh for their crime their soules do grutch Yet haue they Time and helpes more speciall Then others further off the stroke of DEATH To saue their soules with losing well their breath That happie-haplesse Soule the last of Three That First were Well-misdone for this misdeede Being bound to Death yet spake as being free And praisd the Iustice that his death decreede So seem'd to glorie in his death of shame Sith it did glorifie hie Iustice Name Had Grace met Arte and Nature in his Head As Courage in his Heart with Cunning met He might haue rul'de those that haue gouerned But rising with the Sommer-Sunne now set Did set with him by whome
subiect are to Fate What Diu'lls can enuie then such Dcities Whose Heau'ns are hells of short-sweet miseries Toyle ye to shield their liues that shoot at yours And make your selues of Soueraigns sou'rain slaues Spēding your Brains strengths precious howrs As if yous selues dig'd for your selues your graues For th'hollow subiect graue like you deuoures Whom ye make hollow oft with welfare's waues For if ye fill Ambition Spight or Feare Ye fill the Sailes wil quite you ouer-beare Men-beasts borne subiect yet can neuer beare Your births allotment What O what is it That makes yee like vile timber-wormes to weare The Poasts sustaining you What grace or Wit Appears in facts where your owne fals appeare Will ye needs rise to fall not sure still sit If needs ye will foule be your fairest fall Sith ye would rise by ouerthrowing All. Cannot the ten times worse then ill successe Of gracelesse Gowries worse farre worse assay With heaps of horrors so your thoughts oppresse That these should freez your souls w cold dismay Dāger Death ye heard could not distress Our heau'n holp King who throgh both made his way For kings are Gods who with a frowne can make The Arme of flesh for feare all force forsake Or know you not a crowne is of such weight That no disloyall hand can it transferre But crusht it is to nothing with it straight Cannot this thought your hands from this deterre On Treason doth an hell of horrors waite Which in it selfe against it selfe doth warre Then that which in it selfe is at this stay Must fall else Truth doth lie and soone decay Conspirators haue nought but pale mistrust Sad thoughts and terrors euer them attending B●… Princes on their sides haue subiects iust T●…r Guards their Maiesties their Lawes defending What hart dare maugre al these be vniust All these their powrs against the traitor bending Then how can Traitors be so ouer-bold When such great fears their harts do vnderhold Their tyred wits though beaten night and day Can make no shift a traitorous life to saue The gultie conscience doth it selfe bewray And thoughts turmoild no staid aduisement haue Feare strikes them so that tost they cannot stay But iudgement makes vncertaine as a waue The flowing streames of honied Eloquence Can nere sustaine the weight of great offence Pure Innocents with vndefiled tongue By instinct of Nature haue perswasiue powre But guilty ones defilde with bloud and wrong Their faltring tongues are euer most vnsure So full of Discords is Rebellions Song That it no eare in tune can ought allure Though Art aid Falshood with her powrs yet shal Truth naked trip them so they needs must fall The bended brow of Iustice sore dismayes The guiltie though their wits in glory shine And sickle Feare their iudgement still betrayes Presenting strange Chimeras to their eyne Which so the soule with horror ouer-layes And Reasons right discourse so wrests in fine That all that from the Minde or Mouth proceeds Within it selfe then disagree must needs The passions of annoy more strongly worke Within the mind then those from ioy proceeding Now if sweet Ioys in merry minds that lurke Do hinder Reason strange distraction breeding Much more will feare of pains all paines exceeding Reason must then of force forsake the Helme When waues of woe the bodies barke orewhelme Who enter Treasons maze are like the men That runne too desperately into the Sea If they escape it will be iudged then That they were fortunate the wracke to flee And out of Dangers mouth to come agen But if they perish then it said will be They cast themselues in to be cast away By desp'rate fore-cast cause of their decay For as an Arrow glanceth on a stone For want of softnesse in the stone to stay it So treason lightly will be ouerthrowne Though for fit time Wit willeth to delay it And keepe the same the while from all vnknown That likely God nor man can well bewray it Yet out it will and like an Arrow glance Vpon the foyling Flint of hard mischance A blessed death a cursed life excuseth For no man's truly blest before his end So a curst death a blessed life accuseth But when that life and death to death doth tend It seems the soule life wilfully refuseth For she in life and death doth but offend From such a life and death grace keeps all those That to Prides Naturals are mortal foes The more that Empire doth enlarge her bounds The more is Fortunes empire ouer it Who scorns to thrust at slaues but kings she woūds And on their Seats doth oft make slaues to sit And sitting there in sport she them confounds So bandies kings and slaues as she thinks fit But slaues are racket kings are her hand bals Which being greater haue the harder fals Senec. These seldom meet with siluer-hairs though care Doth for that tincture Time anticipate The Liege that lies on beds that sumptuous are Sleeps more in feare than beggers at his gate Whom the gray morne hath seene high past compare The blushing eu'n hath seen in abiect state A world of mouthes they feed courts they keep Whose stabbing dreams do make thē start in sleep The purple robe is oft re-purpelled With royall blood that from the heart doth stream When homly rags thogh rent are nere made red With th'owners bloud sith they do range a reame And yet not rule it as the Sceptered These sleepe secure in many a golden dreame While Princes lie on thorns of pricking feares That make their daies to interdict their yeares In tooth som'st disb the banefull baite doth lie And Treason diues into the sweetest wine At euery bit they feare her treachery And doubt each draught they drinke they drink their fine O! if as through a glasse we might espy The swarms of fears and cares their hearts confine We would not stoope to gather vp a crowne If as the crowne the cares must be our owne The princely Ports no sooner ope are set But diuelish Enuie glides through all vnseene But hates as hell the Neat-heards Cabinet Whilst Princely Peasant with his Sommers queen Hee frolicks it as free from dread as debt And liuing so a King himselfe doth weene But if he erre it is an error sweete To meet Kings thoughts and not their cares to meete In Maple Mazer or Beach-bowle hee quaffes And lifts it not to mouth with shaking hands His Loue and Hee eats drinks and sleeps laffs And shee obeyes and hee in loue commands Twixt them are neither Iealousies nor Chases For breaking Wedlock or Subiections Bands But they enioy Loue peace and merriment And therewithall the Kingdom of Content They fear not Fortunes frowns nor way her fawns Their great'st ambition is to liue to loue Much Coyn they need not much less pretious pawns That by a Cow can liue and pleasures proue Yea feede with her on Sallets in the Launds In Weeds yelad as homely spunne as woue Milke being their best