Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A05317
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Great Brittaines sunnes-set, bewailed with a shower of teares. By William Basse
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Basse, William, d. ca. 1653.
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1613
(1613)
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STC 1546; ESTC S104504
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2,937
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26
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GREAT BRITTAINES SVNNES-SET BEWAILED WITH A SHOWER OF TEARES BY WILLIAM BASSE AT OXFORD Printed by Ioseph Barnes 1613. TO HIS HONOVRABLE MASTER Sr RICHARD WENMAN Knight A Soule ore-laden with a greater Summe Of ponderous sorrow then she can sustaine Like a distressed sayle that labours home Some obiect seekes whâ—eto she may complaine Not that poore soule hir obiect can draw from Hir groaning breast th' occasion of hir paine But over charg'd with Teares shee widow-like bestowes Vpon hir best friends eares some children of her woes Not like as when some triviall discontents First taught my raw and lucklesse youth to rue Doe I to Flockes now vtter my laments Not choose a tree or streame to mourne vnto My waightier sorrow now Deare Sir present These her afflicted features to your view Whose free and noble mind were not this griefe your owne Would to my plaints be kind if I complain'd alone But such true arguments of inward woe In your sad face I lately haue beheld As if your teares like floods that overflowe Their liquid shores alone would haue excell'd This generall Deluge of our eies that so Sea-like our earth-like cheekes hath over-swell'd As if your heart would send forth greatest lamentation Or striue to comprehend our vniversall passion And as th' occasion Sir may iustly moue To maid-like sorrow the most man-like heart So may your griefe to your beholders proue The iustice of His grace and your desart For teares and sighs are th' issues of true loue Our present woes our former ioies imparte He loues the living best who for the dead mournes most He merits not the rest who not laments the lost To you I therefore weepe To you alone I shew the image of your teares in mine That mine by shewing your teares may be show'n To be like yours so faithfull so divine Such as more make the publique woe their owne Then their woe publique such as not confine These 〈◊〉 to rimes not yet forms froÌ„ examples borrow Where losse is in 〈…〉 there boundlesse is the sorrow O let vâ— Muse this heavynesse that no Iust heart vncleft at one time can sustaine By fittes and preparations vndergoe Let 's feare let 's hope tremble and hope againe O let vs this dysastrous truth ne're know But rather deafe and stupefied remaine For happier much it were the hearing sence to loose Then loose all sence to heare such an vnhappy newes Like to a changeling in his sleepes become Rob'd of his sexe by some prodigious cause I am turn'd woman watrish feares benube My Heate my Masculine existence thawes To teares wherein I could againe entombe His tombe or penetrate hir marble iawes But O why should I twice entombe him O what folly Were it to pierce with sighes a monument so holy Here then run forth thou River of my woes In cease lesse currents of complaining verse Here weepe young Muse while older pens compose More solemne Rites vnto his sacred Hearse And as when happy earth did here enclose His heav'nly minde his Fame then Heav'n did pierce Now He in Heav'n doth rest now let his Fame catch fill So both him then posses'd so both possesse him still Or like a Nymph distracted or vndone With blubber'd face hands wrong neglected haire Run through moist Valleys through wide deserts run Let speech-lesse Eccho eccho thy dispaire Declare th' vntimely Set of Brittaines Sun To sorrowing Shepheards To sad Nymphes declare That such a night of woes his Occident doth follow That Day in darknes clothes and mourner makes Apollo But of his partes thinke not t' expresse the least Whom Nature did the best in all things forme First borne a Prince next to his FATHER best Then Fram'd a Man to be as he was borne Beauty his youth beyond all others blest Vertues did him beyond his youth adorne What Muse what voice what pen caÌ„ give thee all thy duties O Prince of Princes me youth wisdoÌ„ deeds beauties Fates that so soone beheld his Fame enrould Put to his golden thred their envious sheeres Death fear'd his magnanimitie to behold And in his sleepe basely reveng'd hir feares Time looking on his wisdom thought him old And laid his rash Sythe to his Primest yeares Stars that in loue did long t' embrace so faire a myrrhour Wink'd at Fates envious wrong Death's treason Times errour O Fates O Time O Death But you must all Act the dread will of your Immortall GVIDE O Fates How much more life did you appaule When you his liuely texture did divide O Time when by thy sythe this Flow'r did fall How many thousands did'st thou wound beside O Death how many deathes is of that life compacted That from all living breathes his only death extracted How many braue Deedes ha's the wounded wombe Of Hope mis-carryed now before their time How many high designes haue seene their doome Before their birth Or perish'd in their Prime How many beauties drown'd are in his tombe How many glories with him heavn's do clime How many sad cheekes mourne Him laid in Earth to see As they to earth would runne his Sepulcher to be Like a high Pyramis in all his towers Finish'd this morning and laid prostrate soone Like as if Nighte's blacke and incestuous howers Should force Apollo's beauty before Noone Like as some strange change in the heav'nly powers Should in hir Full quench the refulgent Moone So HE his daies his light and his life here expir'd New built most SuÌ„-like bright Ful MaÌ„ most admir'd But HEAV'NS Disposers of all Life and Death That our pied pride and wretched liues mislike Tooke HIM that 's gone from vs to better breath Vs that remaine with death from him to strike His flower-like youth here there more flourisheth His graces then are now more Angel-like Those glories that in Him so shone now shine much more Our glories now are dim that shin'd in him before And thou faire I le whose three-fold beauties face Enchants the Three-fork'd Scepter of thy Lover That with thine owne eies drown'st thy lap the place That his enamour'd armes and streames would cover Make true and two-fold vse of griefe That grace May with affliction now it selfe discouer These teares thou dost begin to shed for HENRYES sake Continue for thy sinne which made Heau'n Henry take That thy iust Iames who hither to hath sway'd Thy Scepter Many-fold and ample Frame Many more ages yet may liue obay'd T' enlarge thy glories and to yeeld the same Divine examples vnto CHARLES that made HENRY so noble and so great in Fame For who but such a King as He can such another In place of Henry bring who match him but a BROTHER And neighbour Lands to whome our moanes we lent May to our greater losse now lend vs theirs Florence his old Duke mourn'd but we lament A greater then a Duke in flowring yeares Spaine for a Queene hir eies sad moisture spent We for a Prince and for a Man shed teares But France whose cheek's still wet nearest our griefe hath smarted For she from Henry Great wee from Great Henry parted And thus As I haue seene an even showre When Phoebus to Ioues other splendent heyres Bequeath'd the Day downe from Olympus powre When Earth in teares of Trees and Trees in teares Of Mountaines wade Like some neglected flowre Whose sorrow is scarce visible with theirs Downe to my silent brest my hidden face I bow My Phoebus in his Rest hath hid his heav'nly brow FINIS A MORNING AFTER MOVRNING LEt me no longer Presse your gentle eies Be'ing of themselues franke of religious teares But stanch these streames with so lace from the Skies Whence Hymen deck'd in Saffron robes appeares Let Henry now rest in our memories And let the Rest rest in our eies and eares Now He hath had his Rites Let Those haue their adorning By whose bright beames our Night of mourning ha's a morning And now my Muse vnmasque thee And see how A second Sonne in Henries place doth shine See Fiue great Feastes all meete in one Day now Our MAKER keepes his Sabaoth most divine Isis and Rhene are ioyn'd in sacred vow And faire Eliza's Fredericke's Valentine The Court in ioy artires hir splendent brow The Country shroues And all in mirth combine Fiue-times he hallowed The Day wherein GOD rests Saints triumph Princes wed Court CouÌ„try feaste's FINIS