Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A10256
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An elegie upon the truely lamented death of the Right Honorable Sir Julius Cæsar Knt. Master of the Rolles, and of Snt Katherins: and one of his Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell. Wept by Fra: Qua
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Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.
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1636
(1636)
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STC 20538; ESTC S110573
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2,440
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14
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AN ELEGIE VPON THE TRVELY LAMENTED Death of the Right Honorable Sir JULIUS CAESAR K nt Master of the Rolles And of S nt Katherins AND One of His Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell Wept by FRA QVA. Micat inter omnes Iulium sidus velut inter ignes Luna minores LONDON Printed for Iohn Marriot 1636. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE AND MOST WORTHY OF DOUBLE HONOR The Lady CAESAR Wife to the Right Honorable Sir JVLIVS CAESAR K nt Late M r. of the Rolles AND One of His Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell WEE are all prisoners for a debt we owe to Nature committed to the Gaole of this transitory world Some pay sooner Some later All must pay As yesterday our Blessed Saviour paid it To day your deare Husband paid it A bitter example sweetly followed He followed Him in his life He followed Him in his death and so close in both that as in life he was assuredly His by Grace so in death he is most certainly His in Glory Madam my most entire affection hath performed this last service to his deare Remembrance which I present to your Noble hands beseeching Almighty God to comfort you and hereafter to raise you to the same pitch of Glory where he is Madam Your La v faithfull servant FRA QUARLES TO MY HONORABLE FRIENDS Sir CHARLES CaeSAR Knight Sir IOHN CaeSAR Knight ROBERT CaeSAR Esquire You Noble Brothers GIve me leave to make you Partners in my Dedication with this honourable Lady as she is Partner in your Losse How much I am bound to this service I appeale to you How much my expressions come short of his merit I appeale to the world His worth and my grief require stupifaction rather then language Leves loquuntur ingentes stupent He hath left you the rich Inheritance of a rare example which if you truely follow shall follow you to that glory which hee enjoyes whose gray hairs you have brought in peace and honor to the ground The servant of his memory and your vertues FRA QVA. An Elegie LEt such invoke the Muses that have Art To broach their studied tears get by heart Their ill-weigh'd sorrows that can scrue their brains To any tuneing from Threnodian straines To love-sick Sonets and from thence can call Their fancies to a light-foot Madrigall Let those invoke whose mercenary ' Affections Are dry and cannot give without directions From moist Melpomenè but stick the Herse With a faire texted lamentable verse More sorry then the Makers trickt with flowers Of bare Invention which the twilight showers Of Nature ne'r bedew'd Let such as they Invoke the Muses whilst we cut our way Through these our Alpine griefes and sadly rise With the sharp vinegre of suffused eyes Our high spring-tides are full no need to borrow A dropt ' encrease the deluge of our sorrow O were the triviall subject of our Tears A private losse where one dull Mourner beares His single load ingenious Grief might find A golden Meane and meanes to be confin'd A privat sorrow gains a soone reliefe And griefe not Common is a common griefe But where a sad calamity shall presse The publique shoulders what ô what redresse Can full complaints expect What Member first Shall help to binde when every Member's burst Such are our sorrows such disasters now Enforce our melting souls to overflow The banks of swelling Passion which appeares A troubled Sea of Epidemick teares O that the hearts of men had equall scales To weigh that losse which my sad heart bewailes T is not a Father or a Friend or One Whose death soft Nature bids us to bemone Which we lament that sorrow would extend But to our selves and with our selves would end Such losse is load enough but may be borne On well prepared shoulders and outworne But this ô this exceeds where every brest Which hates not Vertue hath a Interest The Church hath lost a Patron and the State Bewailes an honourable Potentate The King a Counsellour the Court Of Conscience a just Iudge the greater Sort A sweet familiar what the Poore has lost Reader the Poore shall tell thee to their cost He was the Cripples Staffe the blind mans Eye The Lawyers Curb the Clients Chauncery He priz'd the world with things that had no price A Paul to vertue and a Saul to vice A painfull Planter for the poore to gather The Widows Husband and the Orphans Father 'T is He 't is He whose honorable Dust Our eyes embalme and tender to the trust Of thanklesse earth whose relamented death Estates our griefe and lends a secret breath To our faint Quill 'T is He whose righteous Balance did while-ere Deale Iustice so as if Astraea were Return'd from heav'n or Saturns conqu'ring hand Had new regain'd his long usurp'd Command From his deposed Son His heart was Stone To pleading Vice and Wax to every Grone His Wisdome Bounty Love and Zeale did rise Like those foure Springs that watred Paradise And with their fruitfull Tides did overflow This glorious Island on whose banks doe grow Faire Grifit of Honor fragrant Flow'rs of Peace Full Crops of plenty laden with increase Who shares not in our griefe what eye forbeares To be a willing Partner in our teares What friend of Goodnesse will not claime a part In our great losse or not entaile his heart To plenteous Passion so that Babes unborne May hold our Lordships with a Clause to mourne But stay what need what need we presse a teare When every eye becomes a Volunteire Thus wrapt in shades of night in sheets of Lead See see our noble Senator lies dead Whom Art and Nature and diviner Grace Made far more honourable then his place His earth-transcending thoughts thought scorn to take Joy in earths Honor where few years could make So flat a Period His aspiring mind Was free of heav'n disdain'd to be confin'd Who finding earth accustom'd to deprive Of Honor giv'n not having more to give He bid Goodnight and sweetly fell asleep So left the world so left us here to weep Thus dy'd our noble Caesar whose high story Of earths Advancement prov'd his step to Glory Our joys goe with him whilst sad we return To lay his Ashes in his peacefull Vrne Rest glorious Soule whose now untwisted Cable Has past the Needles eye whilst we bedable Our cheeks in Brine that ev'n almost repine At those eternall joyes which now are thine O pardon those whose floods of nature would Ev'n waft thee from thy Glory if they could And land thee in this Vale of Teares to tast That bitter Potion that thy soule has past But we have done our whining breath shall cease Longer to vi'late thy invi'late peace Now blessed Saint enjoy the free Reward Of all thy works Possesse those Ioyes prepar'd For thy faire Soule put on th' eternall Wreath Of glory promis'd to thy faithfull death Repleat thy self with everlasting Manna And let thy voice exchange her late Hosanna For joyfull Allelujahs now a Guest Call'd to the Lambs perpetuall Mariage feast FINIS