ascend When streames of sulphur through our veins do glide And scarce the sense of sorrow doth abide This time how miserable may we guesse Where want of sense is chiefest happinesse When the distracted Soule can scarce devise How to supply the weakest Faculties Of the disturbed Bodie but presents Vnto the Eye strange objects strange portents And antique shadowes when the feverish rage Sets us on Iourneyes oft and Pilgrimage And entertaines our wild and wandering sight With monstrous Land-schips able to affright A man in 's wits when the deceived Eares Doe apprehend what ere the Fancie feares The grones of Ghosts and whispering of Sprites The silken tread of Faeries in the Nights The language of an ayrie Picture howles Of funerall Dogs and warnings of sad Owles The Tast distasteth all things and the same Is sweet and bitter when the inward flame Furres the swolne Tongue the quick Feeling marr'd Knoweth no difference betweene soft and hard Such a confused Error doth distract The labouring Senses so is the Fancie rackt By the dire sicknesse when from place to place The Bodie rolleth and would faine embrace Some Icie cooler but alas the heat Asswaging there ensues a Marble sweat 'Twixt Death and Nature wrestling then appeare Those deadly Characters which th'Ensigne beare Before approching Fate which notice give None spotlesse die how ever they did live A sicknesse comfortlesse when we do feare To see those friends whom we do love most deare The Ministers Devotion here doth stick By leaving Visitation of the sick Making the Service-Booke imperfect when We see a crossed Doore as 't were a Den Of Serpents or a Prodigie we shun The poore distressed Habitation The Death as comfortlesse where not appeares One friend to shed some tender funerall teares Black Night 's the onely Mourner No sad Verse Nor solemne flowers do deck the drearie Herse Some few old folke perhaps for many a yeere Who have forgot to weepe attend the Beere Such whose drie age hath made most fit to keepe Th' infected without feare but not to weepe Whose kin to death made them not feare to die Whose deafenesse made them then fit companie Vnto the sick when they were speechlesse growne A miserable Consolation But had you look'd about you might have seene Death in each corner and the secret teene Of angrie Destinie No sport dispells The mists of sorrow a sad silence dwells In all the streets and a pale terror seizes Vpon their faces who had no Diseases So usuall 't was before the Morne to die That when at Night two friends left companie They would not say Good Night but thus alone God send 's a ioyfull Resurrection If two or three dayes interpos'd betweene One friend by chance another friend had seene It was as strange and joyfull as to some When a deare friend doth from the Indies come Throgh the nak'd town of death there was such plenty One Bell at once was faine to ring for twenty No Clocks were heard to strike upon their Bells Cause nothing rung but death-lamenting Knells Strange that the Houres should faile to tell the Day When Time to thousands ran so fast away Time was confus'd and kept at such a plight The Day to thousands now was made a Night Hundreds that never saw before but di'de At one same time in one same Grave abide That our weake Fancies if we did not hold It Profanation here to be too bold Might wonder what being strangers they would say To one another at the Iudgement Day Some by their feare to go to Church debarr'd Anon are carryed dead unto the Yard The Church-yards gron'd with too much death opprest And the Earth rests not ' cause so many rest And Churches now with too much buriall fed Fear'd they should haue no meetings but of Dead Death fell on death and men began to feare That men would want to carry forth the Bere The Bearers Keepers Sextons that remaine Surpasse in number all the towne againe Friends here kill'd friends womb-fellowes Kill their Brothers Fathers their Sons and Daughters kill their Mothers By one another strange so many di'de And yet no murder here no Homicide A Mother great with Child by the Plagues might Infects to Death her Child not borne to light So killing that which yet ne're liu'd the wombe Of th'aliue Mother to th'dead Child was tombe Where in the fleshy graue the still Babe lying Doth kill his Mother by his owne first dying Her trauaile here on Earth she could not tend But finishes in heauen her Iournies end To others frolicke set vnto their meales Secure of death slie Death vpon them steales And strikes among 'em so that thence in speed With heauy Cheere th' are borne the wormes to feed To some at worke to others at their play To thousands death makes a long Holy-day Death all conditions equally inuades Nor riches power nor beautie here perswades Old dye with young with women men the rage Of the dire Plague spares neither sex nor age Most powerfull Influence of ruling Starres Which with blind darts Kill more than bloody Wars Resistlesse Famine greedy Time or when The threatfull hand of Tyrants striketh men Into pale terrour more than all diseases Ah happy hee who heauen least displeases FINIS HOLLAND his Hornet To sting a Varlet OR A few Satyricall lashes for one that did falsly accuse him to the late Lord Keeper of a Libell against IOHN OVVENS Monument in Pauls By ABRAHAM HOLLAND Against one that impos'd a Libell on me to the late Lord KEEPER WHosoe're thou wast that thus Mistaken or Malicious The last I doe imagine that Didst Father on mee this vile Brat A stinking Libell goe and bee Scorn'd of all as much as mee May I know thy Name in Time Libell'd in some Ballad-Rime May I heare thee 'bout the Street Begging Offall for the Fleet May'st thou cry in tuned Prose Cornes haue you on your Feet or Toes Or Rats to catch and in the end Veniee-Glasses haue you to mend May Iustice make thee so to lacke To offer Lines to all in Blacke And succeed if Vengeance linger At last the one-Legg'd Ballad-Singer Foule ill thy judgement couldst thou find None whom thou couldst thinke inclin'd To Libelling but me no one That made lewd Verse but me alone No itching Scriuener that doth make Verses by an Almanacke No lazie leaden-witted Asse Professing Poetrie alas No Latin'd Merchant whose fine clothes Scorne that hee should write in Prose No parcell-Gentleman that vowes Hee can still the Latine towze No busie Lawyers Clerke that still Will vsurpe Poeticke skill No pretie Toy no learned Foole Nor clownish Vsher of a Schoole Couldst thou find none but must disperse Mee the Author of that Verse So basely libellous and durst Me of all men picke out first To bee thy Toung-Ball or didst rather Thy owne bastard on mee Father A Palsey take my Muse if I Knew how to make a quicke reply To them who did this Fame disclose Whether it were Verse
still Retaines a heart unbroken acts more ill Than all his life before that soule is Steele Which doth not bleed that hell which doth not feele The present blow It is with us who here Hourely view death as when exempt of feare At an Ostend or such a Siege to die The Souldiers thought it a Necessitie And so did slight it when each houre were showne So many others Death's t' assure their owne Endeared Friends I am well and better much And in more sweet securitie than such Who thinke of a long life by these death 's here Being freed from what is worse than death the Feare Seldome is Christian Valour better gain'd Than when 't is by such miserie obtain'd I doubt not but that Fame which still doth use To spred abroad more large than certaine newes Hath blaz'd our State and haply doth assure As you suppose farre more then we endure Thus farre let me your doubts herein suffice Rumour it selfe can scarce Hyperbolize Our Reall woe Feare it selfe cannot vow There is more Mischiefe than wee suffer now If you shall heare of Streets wherein the Grasse Doth grow for want of men that use to passe Or Smithfield turn'd a medow or a plaine Wherein the Horses Kine and Sheepe againe May feed rather than sell or of poore men That in their Graues together lie by ten By twenties or by more or sodaine Fates Of people dying in the streets and gates Doe not suppose it false we wretches trie What other Ages shall hold Poetrie A March in midst of August and the Star That raigneth now farre from Canicular In all but the effects not cloth'd in bright And scorching Sun-shine but in midst of Night And Winter stormes as if the Plague did flie Wrap't in those clouds to fright the troubled Skie And blast mortalitie the ayre the while Scarce in a Moneth strikes forth one pleasing smile Muffled in damps so close that from beneath Wee deeme it hard by any way but Death To see bright Heauen againe The Rurall swaines Begin to doubt the Vsurie of their paines And Prophesie a Famine and the Earth Choked with Carkasses threatens a Dearth As a Reuenge The Skies the while doe showre Downe poysonous tempest to augment the power Of her pretended Malice while the breath Of blacke contagious windes doe transport Death Through the enuenom'd ayre Earth Aire and Skie Conspiring to our great Calamitie In what a case poore London stands to show Would aske a Pen and Muse that onely know How to write griefe alas it is become A Theatre of Tragedies where some Di'de i' th' first acts and many slaughters past God knowes what murder shall be in the last I liue not in it but in Chelsey aire Where Death but in his Out-rodes doth repaire And thence doe onely heare the murmuring Bels Disclose the slaughter by the frequent Knels Yet as a tender Mother though shee haue A Child interr'd and sleeping in the graue Yet will she oft goe see the tombe and dew His dust with pious teares and oft renew His Posthume exequies so sometime I Goe to behold the Citie and espie As I doe walke along the widdow'd streets Nothing but sorrow in each face that meets In the Large ruine nothing but a griefe That speakes it selfe in silence true and briefe Ah deere Sirs it is changed from the Place Yee knew it once when as the beautious face Of Gallantrie inrich'd the Streets and Eyes Of frequent beautie made it a Paradise And the Delight of Nations whose concourse Thither and the Refluxe as from the Source Of humane Kinde did make it seeme to bee The Center of the World the Worlds Epitome Death now alas hath not begun but led His Triumph through the Towne and largely spred His gloomy wings in circuit o're the Walls Attended by ten thousand Funerals As if those Pageants raised to renowne Our deere Queenes Well-come and great Charles his Crowne Had bin of purpose made a Wofull throne For Death and Fate to sit spectatours on When I see these thinke you I can forbeare But praise that God who let 's me still be here And makes me not a Spectacle as they That now are mine and liu'd but yesterday Deare Friends it is not London but the shade And Carkasse of that place in ashes layd Where you shall see in stead of sport and play A false yet as it seemes a Holiday The Doores shut up and all the Streets about But here and there a Passenger walke out So solemne silence that a man would say 'T were a light Night or Seruice-time all Day The Bells as frequent as when oft they sound When a yong Prince is borne or new King crown'd Which heard a Stranger might be brought to sweare The Fift of August or Nouember there Were Solemnized now which to assure The Bon-fires almost euery night procure A Shade of Ioy which if you right will Know As funerall Piles not solemne Bonfires glow The Bells in their sad language almost tell They ring no Holiday but speake a Knell The Doores so shut that one in them might doubt Whether it were to keepe Death in or out What Muse shall I inuoke t' indite a rime That may expresse our miserable time Where the pale Visages of men expresse Farre aboue Poetrie the Heauinesse Of Gods sharp Scourge where the Red wand affrights The Starring Passenger and troubled Nights Are spent in Burials when what e're we see Is but an Argument of Miserie The Wormwood-Nosegayes the trembling Pace Of them that passe though they haue Herbe of Grace And curious Boxes to repell the ayre Which might assault them seeming to out-dare The will of Destinie Nor can I blame Our weake Mortalitie which thinkes no shame To show a frailtie deeming perhaps that Fate Can yeeld to Soueraigne Bezoar Mithridate Or such Death-killers let us thinke so still So wee root out that weed of Sin and ill Which taints our soules so though for many yeares It haue preuail'd wee 'l drowne it in our teares And Kill this Giant Plague which through the towne As an unloosed Lyon beareth downe What e're it meets making no doubt to strike The cloudie Cedar and low Shrub alike So quicke and fast that it makes men to say 'T will not be long untill the Iudgement Day Absolue the Massacre Death so doth shrine To bring the Vniuerse to light againe So few are borne to life so many Die Lucina doth not Tith Mortalitie As if Death would not leaue untill for all Doomesday doe make one fire one funerall When now the Weeke-bills almost reach unto The summe which that of th'yeare had wont to doe If from the Towne a Stranger should but spie How the affrighted People hast to flie In trembling heapes hee could not but suppose The ransack'd Citie taken by the Foes And now possess'd and the remaining rout On a strict composition flying out Enter the Citie you shall meet with there A fearefull Valour an audacious Feare Where men doe
Honours and beguile Their early feares with too late hopes alas They little thinke that now the soyled Grasse Vsurpes their deare embraces and grim Fate Sits pale vpon those Beauties which of late They made their Ages comforts who now shall Ah! be bound to them for a Buriall O call to mind this Fatall Yeere wherein * Equally justly sent Thy Iustice hath been equall to our Sin Both great O let thy blessed Goodnesse still As it is wont to doe surpasse our Ill. Those men whom we did love whom we did trust Should be our Shields are turn'd to Shades to Dust Let the in-throned Soule of IAMES implore That after Him thou punish His no more Let the great Sprite of OXFORD which hath past The Sentence of thy Anger be the last Thou plaguest vs withall and let us know That still thou pittiest us poore men below But never let this Land endure againe That wofull solitude which once did raigne In our faire Cities which neglected left In a deplored ruine shew'd the theft Of angrie Fate when scarce a tenant Mouse Was left in many a faire unpeopled house But the sad Owles and Night-Ravens aloofe Did keepe their Revels on the silent roofe When at high Noone one passing by should meet A Mid-night Darke and silence in the street When in the wayes well-pav'd and worne before By frequent steps of men there now grew store Of uncouth Grasse and Harvests now apace Grew where they once were sold i'th'Market-place When as no Merryments no Sports no Playes Were knowne at all and yet all Holy-dayes No Papers then over the doores were set With Chambers readie furnish'd to be let But a sad Lord haue mercie vpon vs and A bloodie Crosse as fatall Marks did stand Able to fright one from the Prayer The time Then held it an inexpiable Crime To visit a sicke friend Strange Stoure wherein Love was a fault and Charitie a sin When Bad did feare infection from the Good And men did hate their cruell Neighbour-hood 'T was a deplored time wherein the Skyes Themselves did labour and let fall their eyes When one might see the Sunne with sallow hayre And languishing complexion dull the ayre Looking eeu'n so as when at Chryses Plaint He went like Night the Graecian troupes to taint With sad Infection when his dire shafts cast Kill'd more than Hector in the nine yeeres past The Heavens were cloth'd with bleak mists the aire With the thick Dampe was struck into despaire Of future clearenesse or serener day But that the Clouds for feare ran oft away The Night whose dewie shade had wont to tame The soultry reliques of the Mid-day flame Distill'd no Crystall Pearles vpon the ground But wrapt in vaporous smoake and cloath'd around With poysonous Exhalations did affright The trembling Moone whose dim and paler light Look'd with that countenance as if againe Her silver hornes should ne're escape the Wane So to renew her Circuit The dull Quire Of sickly Starres shew'd now no smiling fire But shone like un-snuff'd Tapers as if Fate Did give them leave now to prognosticate Their owne estate not others and applie Themselves at last to sad Astrologie The poyson-clutter'd Springs with Plague infus'd Ran not with Crystall torrents as they us'd But in dull streames as them dire influence fills With fainting pace scarce reach'd unto their rills And languid Rivers which before did passe The Crystall with their clearenesse now alas Looke muddie without stirring and their streames That wont to be all spangled with the beames Of the blithe Sunne now in a weltring floud Ran not with water but prodigious bloud Those Trees whereof the Antients us'd to rayse Their Funerall Piles might in these fatall dayes Burne at their owne Death's which in sad despayre Spred not their leavie beauties through the ayre But suffer'd Autumne in the Spring forlorne And ferall Cypresse now had cause to mourne Poppeyes themselves this time in death did sleepe And the Myrrhe-tree had reason here to weepe A Funerall Perfume those gaudie flowers Which wont to make Ghirlonds for Paramours Mourn'd in their drouping braverie and spread The ground at their owne deaths as for the dead The Corne grew not as if it meant t'undoo Men not with Plague alone but Famine too Herbes Physicks Soveraignes here infected die And for themselves could find no remedie The brute Beasts now which Nature to bestow The Excellence on Man did make with low Downe-looking Postures first did feele the rage Of th'Earth-borne Plague and died before their age The long-liv'd Hart this time to die began Before it reach'd unto the age of Man The faithfull Spaniell by his death did trie The mischiefe of his well-nos'd Facultie And ranging with quick Sent did soonest prove Th' infectious Malice of the Dogge above The lustie Steed scouring in 's Game apace Lights on Deaths Gole in middle of his Race The nimble Fowle as th' ayre it flyes around Flags his sick wings and sinkes unto the ground Not long before to the remorselesse Skie In sillie Notes have sung his Elegie The lucklesse Night-Ravens which us'd to grone The death of others now might Dirge their owne The Snow-plum'd Swan as it did gently ride Vpon the silver Streame sung forth and di'de Anon the Damp dares breake into the Walls Making a way by thousand Funeralls Who can expresse th' astonishment and feare Which doth at entrance of a Plague appeare Even so the fleeced Heard doth tremble when An Aburne Lion hungrie from his Den Breakes in among 'em then you may behold The pale-look'd Shepheard gaze upon his Fold With helpelesse pitie the poore Lam-kins creepe Vnder their Dams the sillie trembling Sheepe Stand full of cold amazement at the sight Small hope for mercie and lesse hope in flight Expecting onely which of all shall scape The readie horror of the Lions rape Other Diseases warning give before That we may reckon and acquit the Skore Of our sinnes Prodigalitie in this We scarce can be resolved whether 't is Sicknesse or Death it selfe so quick it tries The strength of Nature so soone poore Man dies That many to repose in th' Evening lying Have made their sleepe true kin to Death by dying Before the Morne Ah! who would then deferre A preparation for this Messenger Of bless'd or curs'd Eternitie What man Would still presume to sinne that knowes the span Of short uncertaine Life Yee gracious Powers That measure out the minutes and the houres Of this our wandering Pilgrimage restraine These sodaine slaughter-men or good God waine Vs from our sinnes that wee may neither feare The rape of Death nor covet to be here O curbe this raging Sicknesse which with sense Bereaves us of the meanes of Penitence When a dire Phrensie seizeth on the Braine Full of resistlesse flame and full of paine That Madnesse which no cure can well appease Is but a Symptome unto this Disease Our bloud all fire as if it did portend We were not here to stay but soone
for 't Thus in many places The worthiest mens rewards haue bin disgraces Thus Athens wont her best deseruers use Thus Rome her noble Statesmen to abuse With death or banishment thus still wee trie Contempt ensues familiaritie Yea Prophets as our Sauiours selfe did deeme In their owne Countries still haue small esteeme Well whatsoe're this Towne doe thinke you let It thus bee Knowne All England's in your debt Yet are there some I dare avouch it good Ingenuous mindes who hauing understood Your worth and merits loue your very name Though farre remote yea and admire the same I doubt not yet deare Father e're you die By timely Fate to see you rais'd as high As your well-weigh'd ambition aimes at which Is to bee sweetly well content not rich T' enioy your friends and children and they you To spend your fading old yeares residue In sweet tranquillitie and liue with such As will respect and honour you as much As here they slight you and the time from hence Shall all your past misfortunes recompence All comforts fit for age shall you be giuen Your onely care to make your path for Heauen And if my selfe a Poet may presage You shall haue yet an old new Golden age God will not end your aged dayes so long As you may still helpe and doe good among His people here But as a Captaine when He meanes to exercise his faithfull'st men He puts them upon dangers makes them trie Disasters hardnesse and all miserie That when at last the foe shall be repair'd They bee not found unskill'd and unprepar'd Sicknesse is but a mustring show wherein Wee learne to fight to skirmish and to win At the last combat Death in that tide Happy is hee that oftest Sicknesse tride Such as did all-wayes in full health remaine Are oft poore wretches lamentably slaine As untri'd Souldiers Though once Fate by God Shall of your fraile make a period To his Friends in the Time of his Sicknesse A resolution against Death FRiends if it bee my lot as some men vse To pay their debt sooner than you would chuse To harsh exacting Fate I would not haue You stand lamenting o're my youthfull Graue As if it were my Prison and I throwne There on a desperate Execution I know there 's no release from 't yet more free Know I this prison than your libertie I would not haue you raile at it and say That it from you had closely stolne away And treacherously betray'd your Friend alas They erre who thinke they into th' graue doe passe As to a Punishment and therefore call It the sad Vrne the Place of Buriall The house of Lamentation Lifes Thiefe The Den of Sorrow and the Cell of Griefe You wrong it by these Names It is my Bed Where Lifes Day spent I lay my wearied And o'retoyl'd Body in a long deepe Night Till hee that giues all Day renew my Light It is my sleeping chayre my chayre of State Wherein I sit equall with conquering Fate And out-face Death daring him if hee can To challenge more than I haue payd of Man Make him my Sinnes-bill cancell and agree That Christs crosse o're it my acquittance bee As a poore Traueller whom the conceite Of a long tedious Iourney thitst and heate And wearinesse tormenteth by the Way Longing for home all he can doe doth Pray For some Refreshment at the last espies The joyfull smoake of his owne Countrey rise To bid him welcome then with Pleasures Teares Hee casts away both Languishment and Feares And smiling takes the next Banke hee doth see So pleasing is my Graue so sweet to mee This piece of Ground which you in scorne perchance Miscall my Graue is my Inheritance That 't is intayl'd on me the Law averres By due succession from my Grandfathers Mine it hath bin by right since Adam curst Man with this Blessing and possess'd it first While I haue Life heere I am but Lifes Ward And by my Nonage from my right debarr'd Death giues me that 's so long kept from my Hand I 'me now at Age and come unto my Land Nor thinke my Purchase too soone gayn'd but call My eight and twentie Climactericall My Graue's my long-sought Inne to which at most It can be said that I haue ridden Post Whither retyred some perhaps will feare The sawcie Wormes will bee intruders there To feed upon me whilest my Faith protests It is not so they bee my bidden Guests What Man is hee that hauing in the Time Of life committed some foule haynous crime And knowing that the Fame of it 's inroll'd In characters of Brasse yea were 't of Gold That would not praise the hand and friendly call Which scratches out the sad Memoriall Wherein doth liue his Infamie what soule That knowes this fleshly Table doth inroll The Memory of our Faults that would not call Wormes and the Graue Redressers of our Fall The one of which doth hide the other devoures All that was guiltie shamefull bad of ours Our Graue's the veyle which shadowes from the eyes Of Posthume Malice our Iniquities This wretched thing you mourne for and behold The dreary Linnen and the Earth to fold This thing compact of sinewes Bone and Blood The Receptacle both of Sinne and Food Death's ready Executioners This This is not Holland but 's Effigies Which when 't was best and by the Soule could moue Was but a liuely shape of God aboue And onely bless'd in that but now alas That chiefe Ingredient of the curious Masse That gaue it Actiue Life is ta'ne away And Nothing left but ruine and Decay A thing so despicable base and vile That lest it should surviving Men defile Wee Prison'â— first in Linnen then in Wood Then ramme it deepe in Earth and to make Good The rest lest it againe approach the Day Make marble Bulwarkes o're the wretched clay Egyptians hence did their dead Kings embowre In tombes as bigge as their blaspheming Towre Raising in weaker mindes sometimes a doubt How they at th'Resurrection will get out Of these strong Prisons whose unweldy Frames Seeme rather to oppresse than raise their Names Doubtless this wretched thing call'd Man whose curse Light upon all things is than all things worse When once his soule is gone The silly Flower Though dead and wither'd yet retaines some Power Availeable in Physicke Cattell when Th' are dead themselues nourish the liues of Men And dead Grasse theirs And Corne is neuer good Vntill it bee cut downe and us'd for food No tree so rude no shrub so base no beast So vile but dead serues for some use at least For ornament wee loue to see by skill A curious limb'd Picture and stand still To gaze upon it yea wee can endure To see Deaths shaddow and grim Portraicture Though ne're so ugly when against a wall Set a dead man indeed amongst us all You scarcely shall finde one that will not flie As at a Monster or grim Prodigie Doe you then grieue to see this Bugbeare toy This
bee so faint-hearted to feare a thing so common and certaine Was euer poore Labourer sorie after his painefull dayes worke to repose himselfe in sleepe Shall wee then ouerlaboured by a toilesome life grudge to goe to our sweet long and Care-ending sleepe Shall wee desire still to bee in our Nonage and not like heires of Eternity receiue our euerlasting Inheritance Our life is a Banishment from the heauenly Ierusalem shall wee bee grieued by Death to returne from Exile Why feare wee Death which is but the Funerall of our Vices the resurrection of our Graces and the day wherein God payes us our wages Life is neuer sweet to them that feare Death neither can he feare any Enemy that feares not death Did some of the Heathen but reading an uncertaine Discourse of Life hereafter seeke their owne Death to come unto it and shall wee certaine that there is a Life hereafter full of unspeakeable felicitie bee affraid of the way which GOD hath ordained as a passage to it Death is our yeare of Iubile and shall wee not reioyce in it Let euery one then O Lord who desires to bee free'd from sinning and offending thee cry out with PAVL I desire to bee dissolved and to bee with CHRIST A PRAYER Made and vsed with Companie in the aforesaid Visitation O Eternall GOD to whom by Creation wee owe our Beeing from nothing by Sanctification of thy holy Spirit a better beeing from worse than nothing by Redemption and Adoption a joynt Inheritance and Brother-hood with the King of Glory IESVS CHRIST by whom wee are bold to call thee Father neither art thou ashamed to acknowledge us Sonnes For all thy benefits O Lord wee giue thee most humble thankes in that it hath pleased thee to preserue us to this time from the dangers of Hell and Death but especially O good Lord that thou hast giuen us a sence and feeling of our owne sinnes and misery so that wee may call for Mercy before wee goe into the Graue and bee seene no more Wee most humbly and upon the Knees of our soules doe thanke thee O Lord that in this thy great Visitation this great Assizes of thine this fearefull Plague wherein the Graue hath swallowed up so many thousands that it hath pleased thee to command thy raging Minister the Destroying Angell but gently to touch us with an Arrow that was not pointed with Death as if hee had sayd to us Goe away Sinne no more lest a worse thing fall upon you Wee confesse O Lord that our sinnes deserued equally yea more than theirs whom thou hast taken away and yet O Lord wee still remaine to praise thy Name in the land of the Living Which if thou doest continue O Lord thou hast ingaged us to a sodaine and speedy newnesse of life with true Contrition for our former most haynous sinnes and a living in Holinesse and Righteousnesse all the dayes of our life But if so bee this bee but a gleame of thy mercy to trie our Faith and Constancy and that thou hast ordained at this time to make an end of our liues most wretched Pilgrimage thy will bee done O Lord. But ô speake Peace unto our Soules that they need not tremble at this great Seperation O Lord wee know Death is but a shadow and the feare of it more terrible than it selfe Let neither the ouglinesse of it nor of our sinnes distract our mindes when they haue most need to bee busie in obtaining thy grant of a better life Blot out all our offences O Lord and the manifold sinnes of our youths make them O Lord though they bee red as Scarlet yet as White as the wooll of thy immaculate Lambe CHRIST IESVS Wash them O Lord in his Blood and by his wounds let us bee healed from the stinking sores and ulcers of putrified and festred Sinne So that O Lord we may smile at Death and embrace the very terrour of it Repell O Lord the Divell and all his ministers who in these times of affliction are most ready to lay before our weake soules a large Catalogue and bill of our most haynous offences telling us that thou art a just GOD and wilt not heare the prayers of such great offenders but O Lord there is Mercy with thee that thou mayest bee feared yea that thou mayest bee loued Grant O Lord that though wee be euen swallowed vp of death and desperation yet wee may lay hold upon the precious Merits of thy deare Sonne and our loving Saviour so that either in life or death wee may crie with a true Faith and Comfort Come Lord IESVS come quickly To whom with thee the Father and the Holy Ghost bee all honour and glory now and ever AMEN A Vale to his best Part. DId not Religion controll I would say Farewell my Soule But so much as may depart Farewell I say my soule and heart Since from thee I 'me forc'd to flie I 'le enter no meane Heresie But will thinke it may agree A Body without Soule that 's thee Thou hast my soule and so behau'd I am in hope it may bee sau'd My heart 's in thee or mee or both And yet if seperate I am loth Thou hast not all know for thy part I am a niggard of my heart Farewell I say and though 't is paine To say this word Farewell againe Farewell yea so that thou may'st liue A thousand Vales I will giue That this Vale true appeare Take a Farewell and a Teare From thy A. H. Abraham Holland Hauing made many EPITAPHS for others made this Epitaph for himselfe and on his Death bed dictated it to his Brother H. H. PAssenger that wilt bestow So much time to read this know Here 's one a lasting sleepe doth take Till Christs Trumpet bid him wake This is that Gole whereto the man That lyeth here interred ran This the Race-end to which at most Jt can be said that hee rode Post. Let Him sleepe quiet and doe Thou Leaue Sinne not by and by but now Delay not houres which swiftly glide As a full Torrent or quicke Tide Knowing thus much good Christiā passe But with this Thought I am He was Denatus 18. Februarij 1625. Vnto these Post-humes is added NAVMACHJA OR A POETICALL DESCRIPTION OF the cruell and bloudie Sea-fight or Battaile of LEPANTO Most memorable BY ABRAHAM HOLLAND Revised by the Author and now againe Published Printed for HEN HOLLAND M.DC.XXVI TO THE READER that asketh what when and where was this Battaile of LEPANTO IN the yeare of CHRIST IESVS 1571. His open Arch-Enemie the Great Turke having had many Victories by Land in sundry Nations as well in subduing whole Countries as in taking many strong Cities and Castles from the Christians which confined neere his Territories enforcing the Christians either to renounce their holy Faith or to endure unspeakeable Slavery themselues their Wiues and Children beeing daily bought and solde in open Markets like Horses Oxen and Asses The Turke by this time had Conquered many
HOLLANDI Post-huma A FVNERALL ELEGIE OF KING IAMES WITH A CONGRATVLATORY Salve TO KING CHARLES An Elegie of the Magnanimous HENRY Earle of Oxford A Description of the late great fearefull and and Prodigious Plague and divers other patheticall Poemes Elegies and other Lines on divers subiects The Post-humes of ABRAHAM HOLLAND sometimes of Trinity-Colledge in CAMBRIDGE The Authors EPITAPH made by himselfe CANTABRIGIAE Impensis HENRICI HOLLAND 1626. The Names or Titles of the ensuing ELEGIES c. AN Elegie or some Post-hume teares for King IAMES and A Congratulatorie Salve to King CHARLES An Elegie on the Death of the Magnanimous HENRY Earle of Oxford c. A Poeme written in the late plague-Plague-time to divers the Authors endeered worthy Friends then in the Countrey A Description of the late great and prodigious Plague A Satyricall Poeme against one that did falsly accuse the Author to the late Lord Keeper of a Libell against IOHN OVVENS Monument in Pauls A Poeme of his owne deere Father being Sicke A Poeme to his Friends in his owne sicknesse with a resolution against Death A Letter savouring of Mortification written in the time of the late Visitation of the Plague to his deere Brother H.H. A Confession of his sinnes to God with a testimony of his Faith A metricall Version of part of the 73. Pslame T. C. the Authors endeered friend his poeticall Version of the 91. Psalme A Meditation on the 6. Psalme verse 4. and 5. With some other Meditations in his Sicknesse and a Prayer His Bodies Vale to his best Part. His Epitaph made by himselfe TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND HIGH-BORNE HEROE GEORGE LORD GORDON EARLE OF ENGIH AND CAPTAINE OF THE GVARDDV-CORPS commonly called IEAN DV-GVARD to his Majestie of FRANCE Sonne and Heire apparant to the most Noble and Valerous the Marquisse of HVNTLEY Right Honourable MY LORD The Author of these Poemes and other Lines my deere Brother being lately Deceased and I loth that his Elaborate workes should die be buried in Oblivion thought good rather to commit them to the Presse And doe make bold to make choise of your Noble Selfe desiring you to deigne the Patronage of them And I am induced so to doe in two respects First because your Honour is the Prime Mecaenas of the Muses of your Noble Ranke that I know of Great Britaine Secondly for that I am not ignorant of you Honours fauourable and benigne acceptance of some other the Authors Poemes from his owne hands Why shall I then doubt of your Acceptance of these The Orphanes of him who to say no more whiles hee had breath as he was much obliged so did highly prize and honour your Lordship Vouchsafe therefore most Noble Lord not onely the Patronage hereof against the malevolent detractors and vulgar mouthes if any such there be but the pardoning of my audacitie herein beeing altogether unknowne unto you Now Noble SIR as the World knowes you were one of King IAMES his Northerne WORTHIES so who will denie but our gracious King CHARLES accompts you no lesse And that your Honour Name and Fame are not confined within the Empire of Great Britaine appeares by that thrice honorable Office conferred on you by the most Christian French King I pray GOD giue you increase of Honour on Earth and hereafter immortall Honor in Heaven And so I humbly take my leaue of your Noble Lordship Your Honours most obsequious to be Commanded H. H. TO The ingenious and ingenuous Reader especially such as were the deceased Authors Friends GENTLEMEN I haue enterprised to commit these ensuing Lines my deceased Brothers Orphanes vnto the Presse at mine owne proper Charges not to make them common for I hold them better worth than to bee exposed to the vulgar View of euery Ignoramus or Non-intelligit The world already beeing full fraught and farced with stuffe fit for their vnderstanding What these are I need not tell you that knew the Author And for your sakes principally haue I made this Impression of no more Copies than I thinke to distribute vnto yee his and some of mine owne endeered worthy Friends I hope you will vouchsafe them benigne Acceptance and me condigne thankes by which I shall bee encouraged to publish other his larger Labours which I haue lying by mee And so I wish you all an heartie Vale and of you take my leaue Yours to Command H. H. MICHAEL DRAYTON Esquire and Poet-Laureat in Commendation of the AVTHOR and his first published Poeme NAVMACHIA BY this one Lim my HOLLAND wee may see What thou in time at thy full growth mayst bee Which Wit by her owne Symetrie can take And thy proportion perfectly can make At thy Ascendant that when thou shalt show Thy selfe who reades thee perfectly shall know Those of the Muses by this little light Saw before other where to take thy height Proceed let not Apollo's stocke decay POETS and KINGS are not borne euery day E C. Master of Arts vpon the same SEnd forth young-man from Muses wombe Thy other Royall Births at home But slowly slowly send them forth Lest for their number and their worth The enuious hand of Fates take hold And crop thee for they 'le thinke th' art Old I. W. I C. Vpon the same THat this small Piece the World should hazard first Of other better Workes thy Muse hath nurst To wonder I was forc't unless 't bee done As a small Starre doth usher forth the Sun E.P. Theologus amico suo ARAHAMO HOLLANDO D. PHILEMONIS F. in NAVMACHIAM suam NAumachiam lustrando tuam mihi flumine visus Iugenij placido desperijsse tui Arma virum tabulas Guleas Scuta per â—â—das Aspicio mens est Carmine mersa simul Emergo tabulas votiuas dedico Musae Docte HOLLANDE tua quae bene facta canit FINIS AN ELEGIE OR SOME POSTHVME TEARES VPON THE ROYALL HEARSE OF OVR LATE SOVEREIGNE IAMES KING OF GREAT BRITAINE France and Jreland Defender of the Faith c. Who Died at his Manour of THEOBALDS the XXVII of March 1625. By ABRAHAM HOLLAND Printed for HEN. HOLLAND M.DC.XXVI TO THE RIGHT HIGH MIGHTIE CHARLES OF GREAT BRITAINE France and Jreland the first King of that Name and second Monarch Defender of the FAITH c. Sole Inheritor of his Royall Fathers KINGDOMES and VERTVES AND To King IAMES his Jmmortall Memorie This Elegie is Consecrated by his Sacred Majesties humblest and meanest Subject AN ELEGJE OR Some Posthume teares vpon the Royall Hearse of our late Soueraigne King IAMES NOw that the Land hath nigh forgot to weepe And IAMES the Good more peaceably doth sleepe In his vnblamed Vrne and th'Vniversities Vpon his Hearse from their lamenting eyes Haue throwne their Pearles through the widdow'd Towne The curious wits haue jewelled his Crowne Pardon if now poore I doe spend a teare Though farre vnequall to my care to beare My sorrow company if I commence A Nania now and end it two yeares hence I 'le chide my
scarre-crow layd aside to shun th'annoy Of the beholders or for my Soule is it That you doe mourne which now doe throned sit Surfetting with pure Ioyes and holy mirth And smiles at that for which you weepe on earth That 't is dislodg'd from that debauched Inne Which helpt it ne're in ought but onely sinne I would haue giuen you leaue to mourne if then I had by suddaine Death bin summon'd when Wretch'd man I labour'd to the height of sin And bolder grew the deeper I grew in When Vice was turn'd to custome and each deed Though ne're so impious did perswade with speed Another worse as if Despaire had bin The beastly Pander to unbrideled sin But Heau'n be bless'd Heau'n better lou'd my soule Than without stay to let it headlong roll To everlasting Death and so did Kill The Body sooner to retayne that still The Soule as hee inspir'd it pure nor at all Conscious of sinne no not Originall Thinke you I feare those things which you doe call By such blacke names The Griefly Funerall The Fatall beere sad Flowers and dreary Hearse The mournefull Followers and the weeping Verse Thinke you already I doe not disdaine The mightie tapers and the sable traine Or e're I doe expire thinke you my soule Will be so cowardly to feare the toll Of a sad bell whose heauy language goes Deadly as if it did intend to close It's voyce with mine Thinke you I doe not spie The dolefull silence of the standers by As if they all were speechlesse and from me Did draw one generall stupid sympathy Me thinkes I heare the silly Women say Hee is whole chested and will goe away By dying upward and some other trie If that my legges be cold and straight doe lye Here 's one doth Iudge my feeble Pulse and cryes ' Cause shee must bee the Friend to close mine eyes Another maketh Triall of my Breath Thus doe I heare 'em furnish me for Death But ó let me not heare them let my sprite Bee busie then in purchasing a light More sweet then Life it selfe may wholly I Bee fix'd in thoughts of Immortalitie Let me then an audacious Client stand Pressing to Kisse my unseene Sauiours hand And let me bee so busie in my Prayers That not the Feare of Death nor ougly cares Throng'd in the memory may disturbe the Soule Which now is neere to Heav'n her capitoll In the last Triumph after Conquest wonne O're Death and Hell and grim Perdition T is a toy to thinke when life is past That Fate did lagge or else made too much hast When wee die quickly or by tedious Age Fulfill the circuit of Lifes Pilgrimage In my opinion a Day-ag'd Child Hath when it dyes a race as well fulfill'd As Clymacterick Old men I confesse Not with so many out-rodes yet no lesse Exactly Nature doth averre the same And a day Rose aswell an Age may claime As the long liued Oake Though Time devoure The one so slowly th' other in an Houre If'cause I dye before you you repine I 'le thinke you enuy at this blisse of mine And wish't your owne there 's nought but sinne in me That could deserue long life and miserie Which Sinne the God of Mercy quell'd and check't The cause and after tooke away th' effect Long life or if because I dye so soone And come into mine Evening at the Noone And full Meridian of mine age you erre And doe not know what blisse the Fates conferre On mee hereby by which I shall obtayne As I now dye to rise at last againe In fresher youth The Marriner behold To gather up a little Pelfe and Gold Contemned Death If hee doe chance to finde A nearer Cut to China or to Inde Reioyceth and shall wee who through this vale And gulfe of miserie in Life doe sayle Grudge if the Fates doe show a nearer Haven Our Purchase being no Gold nor Pelfe but Heaven FINIS A LETTER Savouring of Mortification written and sent in the time of the late Visitation of the Plague to his deere Brother H. H. in LONDON DEare Brother I am sorry your other occasions would not permit mee to enjoy your company longer at my last being at London especially in this time of sorrow when the dearest friends are not able to say to day wee will meet to morrow which me thinkes cannot choose but put euery man in minde how carefull hee ought to bee that though in our Kinred and Friendship wee be separated on Earth wee may by true repentance and relinquishing our sinnes gaine that blisse that at the reunion againe of soule and body in that happy communion of Saints we may meet againe with joy Our small Village here as an out-member of your great Citie suffers proportionably with it the heauy stroke of Gods wrath insomuch that whole Families of the most curious preventers haue beene wofully swept away especially a Gentleman lest to keepe the Countesse of Nottinghams * This house is called the Kings Nurcerie House who with his Wife a beautifull Gentlewoman and foure most sweet and louely Children and their Man are all gone I hope to blisse and their Mayd that is onely left lying at the mercy of God Wretch that I am why delay I one minute to cast my selfe prostrate at the feet of Mercy and prepare my selfe for the like passage Within these few dayes most of this house in the judgement of men were likely to out-liue mee whose wilde and looser youth threatens a too timely old-age They liu'd in a beautious House a refined and pure Ayre wanted neither Antidote nor assisting Physicke and yet alas they now are not they are dust and ashes and the food of Wormes O! the depth of the wisedome of our great GOD hee saw that it was good for them to dye to gaine a better life and for us that by their deaths wee may learne and prepare our selues to dye Ah Brother thinke not this is a time Rhetorically to set forth a sorrow or passion thinke not but my heart speakes what I write I know the reward of Sinne I know the value of a Soule thinke not but while it is in my power by the merits of CHRIST I will haue a care and prouidence for the price of my Saviours blood my Soule Deare Brother I doubt not but you are so well prepared and armed against this Visitation of God that my weake devotion is either needlesse or unable to assist you Yet I desire you not any way to deject your selfe onely in the humiliation for sinne in this great Assizes of Almighty God where we all are brought to our Trials For my selfe I thanke the comforting Spirit of God I haue not beene these many yeares in so great securitie as I am in this time of imminent danger When euery minute telling me I must die and that God knowes how soone I now and but now begin to liue alas the time that I spent before was but death and I liu'd but in a dreame A
apace that one might then Haue thought th' had been all mouing Iron men And now the Martiall steely-pointed staues Were snatch't in hast the heauy murdring Glaues Bowes bent to slaughter weighty Courtelaxe And Darts Death's Harbingers the black bill axe And other armes which before rusting stood But now are brought forth to be skour'd with blood Our saile-wing'd fleet launcheth fro'th'shore now eased Of it's dread burden nor was th' earth more pleased To see from her one hideous terrour past That grieu'd to see another come as fast One might haue thought the battell was begun To see how Neptune first was thorough run How the sterne brasse his curled forehead tore And trembling waues were strucke by cruell oare Each Fleet the Captaines had deuided soone Into the formes of the halfe-circled Moone But as their furious hornes together met These two halfe-moones a full Moone did beget Which like to that in Heauen as it did goe Made the fleet waters strangely Ebbe and Flow. Now as with proud aduance they neerer came Those beasts which gaue the saile-rul'd vessels name With an aspect more grim than is their life As breathing nought but bate and balefull strife Come fiercely forward all as if from thence They meant to moue their painted Residence The Lyon Elephant and sauage Hogge The Libard Tygre Ounce and cruell Dogge Sternely affront each other one might guesse In midst of Sea a sauage Wildernesse Wherein with admiration one might see So many a fierce wild beast so many a Tree But now our valiant Generall traversing About the fleet encourag'd them rehearsing This speech wherein he brauely did exhort To th' Fight which ready cut th' Oration short Courage braue friends and that is all I pray Strength cannot want where Courage leads the way But what need I th' vndaunted hearts excite Of them whose eies me thinks already fight Looke as ye doe and ye shall neuer need Weapons or hands to make your foes to bleed Your look's shall strike'em dead and warlike sight Shall put your fearefull enemies to flight What ere ye aime at heere before you lie Honour Reuenge Spoile Riches Victorie Which if they mooue not see your Natiue Land Your Nurse your Mother see how she doth stand A farre to marke which of you best shall render The Meed of Nurture who shall best defend her Them will she honour brauely then driue backe This vast Sea-monster which is come to racke Your Nursses entrailes com't but once to Land The very Earth will be affraid to stand It 's cruell brunt whither if reach it can The blood and teares will make an Ocean Deeper than this I see 'em now repaire O let my Omen vanish into aire Vnto our Land see how like Wolues they rage About the coasts sparing nor sex nor age See how they pull strong wals of Citties downe Leauing the men as naked as the Towne They raze your sacred Temples and not leaue A hallowed place where after ye may heaue Your hands for aide to heav'n Your Altars frames These wicked wretches with prophaned flames Sacrifice to their anger yea they dare To open Ghostly Tomb's and thence lay bare Your Ancestors sad Coffins whose dead ashes In stead of teares their Childrens blood be-dashes They dragge our ancient Parents vnto slaughter Answering their dying grones with cruell laughter Our younger Wiues and Sisters they deflour And baselâ— make our neerest kinsmen our Most hated foes our tender infants rawle Scarce borne being borne vnto their funerall These things which heav'n be thank't I but suppose Vnlesse yee helpe will once aduance our foes Say that our Nauy be farre lesse than theirs Haue not great ships amids their swift carriers Beene staid by little Remoraes Then on And let not this cold Element whereon We are to fight quench those couragious flames Which burne in euery manly brest that aimes At immortality but strike so sterne That the dumbe fishes may heereafter learne To speake your praises and each waue report Vnto it's neighbour in how valiant sort Ye fought till that the Oceans vtmost bound And farthest Thule with your fame shall sound Yea that the Sun when he at night shall presse This way may goe and tell th' Antipodes What acts he saw nor yet of ayd despaire The Sea it selfe if need shall aske will spare A thousand of his streaming arm 's for you All fish prooue sword-fish to fight for our due Thinke for no refuge heere to flie your hand Not feet must bring you backe againe to land No longer will the time with vs dispence What my speech wants my sword shall recompence Now 'twixt a thousand liues a thousand death 's Of time one little winged minute breath 's The loud-mouth'd Gun onely expects the fire At touch of which as burnt it should expire It 's skrieking voice groning that so much death Should be accomplish't by th' infectious breath Of it's dire mouth Darts ready are to part To hide their heads in some ill fortun'd hart Arrowes and Muskets leuel'd seeme to kill Before they can in act in fierie will One might haue thought viewing this fearefull sight ' Thad bin the picture of a Navall Fight But harke th' amazing signes of battell sound Making the lands remote and rockes rebound The shrill voic't Trumpet and couragious drum In barbarous language bid the foes to come Death's horrid vizar now begins t' appeare In their pale faces terrour and gastly feare In their amazed hearts doth panting rise And future blood bath's in their fiery eyes Sterne Cruelty aduanceth in their lids With headlong fury stalking in the mids Apelles present here or one so skil'd Might haue made pictures hence that would haue kil'd The thundring Ord'nance now began to rent Th' amazed aire the flames before it sent Seeme lightning and as deadly bullets flie Prodigious haile seem'd to powre downe the skie Smoake made a clowdy mist and all together Seeme on the sea to make tempestuous weather To call for ayd here stands as much in stead As in that place when from a doubtfull head The seauen-mouth'd Nilus with a desperate shocke Headlong doth tumble from th' amazed rock Making the people on the neighbouring shelues That hearing him they cannot heare themselues Thus the fights noyse made many a man to fall In troublous death a silent Funerall Alas those Elements which vse t' vp hold Our crazy liues with their iust heate and cold Making compact our bodies constitution Striue now to cause it 's vtter dissolution The quicke and piercing fire as it doth burne Their wofull carkasses doth freezing turne Their minds to quaking feare and I hill despaire The liquid flitting and all-searching aire Admitts remorsles shot and murdring darts Denying breath at last to coole their harts The theevish water though it ran away With suttle shifts did notwithstanding slay And swallow most with a deuouring flood Onely poore earth starke still astonished stood Who viewing this would not haue thought a wonder That without raine wind lightning