dayes sample shew'th Set in their graves in 'th morning of their youth A needfull caution to the younger frie Sith life it selfe is but uncertaintie And death no time prescribes or can it stay But it will come at all how'rs of the day That every one they stand upon their guard Remembring ever that death never spar'd Youth for youths sake But for the practice of his bow will slay All sorts of game that comes within his way Be 't Stagge Buck Hynd Doe Herse Calfe or Phone All 's one to him and he to all is one Whether it out of season be or in Impartially he reaketh not a pin Ah when I heard them sorrowfully say That thou wert dead the very like dismay In every face I did observe mee thought As when in Pharo's Land sad newes was brought That in one instant time and casually One was found slaine in every familie Somuch unhappy tydings one nights scope Can bring to light to strangle all our hope Sith when to day with joy I heard them tell The worst is past and hope thou shouldst doe well The morrow next by breake of day I heare The Passing-bell invite thee to thy Beare And to prepare thy selfe for going hence Which message though with Christian confidence Through strength of highest hope and faith-unfain Didst readily and joyfull entertain So like a full ripe nutt slipt from the shell Thou slip'st away and bad'st us all farewell But well without thee Ah! how can wee fare With whose sweete company we wont repare Our former losse of time which wee mispent In idlenesse or things impertinent Oh my deere WELD whose conversation was So lovely unto mee could sighs alas And true-shed teares the characters of griefe Unto thy sicknesse added have reliefe Had it in power of learned Leach-craft ly'n Or in the miracle of Medicine A noble Art no doubt which can againe New twist the thred of life nigh crackt in twaine Could devout pray'rs of friends have thee repriv'd From death and made thee to be longer liv'd Thou shouldst not now thy Friends and Parents backs Have cloath'd all over thus in mourning blacks Ne all their heavie hearts shouldst now have clad In sable mantle of thoughts dark and sad Ne should my Muse have on thy heavie Herse O heavie Herse attend in sable Verse Ne yet the eyes of my ink-stained quill On my white-cheekt leaves these blacke teares distill How lovely wert thou living unto all All for thou wert not sullen-cynicall Nor of a supercilious-haughtie eye But affable and full of courtesie Well pleas'd with mirth and harmlesse merriment Which but injuriously can ne're be shent How did all hugge thee and embrace for thy ' Thy hardly-sampled selfe and company How joy'd all at thy comming and in heart How sad and sorrowfull at thy depart Yea and now dead how doth each thing retaine Like love to thee and of thee beene as faine When weary thou thy death-bed didst forsake How readie was thy winding-sheet to take Thee in her milke-white armes not satisfi'd Till wholly to her selfe the did thee hide And next thy coffin being very proud At'th second hand t' injoy thee in thy shrowd For love of thee the sheete where thou dost dwell Doth hugge and kisse much like the loving shell That for the almons sake the tender skin Encloseth round where th'almond lyeth in And then the Earth which living lov'd thee so To kisse thy feet where ever thou didst goe With no lesse love doth now embrace thy chest Within her owne deere bosome long to rest Till thou whom shee seemes so in love withall In thine owne dust into her armes dost fall Last when thy soule of thee did take her leave An Angell readily did it receive And in his winged armes did it convey Nimbly to Heaven and still all the way With sacred kisses courted it and sang To it a Requiem sweet whereat it sprang In 's Armes for joy no doubt for very joy That it should now so suddenly enjoy The blessed vision of her Lord who dy'd Ingloriously her glory to provide How can I then but living thee admire Whom ' live and dead both Heaven and Earth desire Farewell deerfriend too soone ripe long to last Happie young man who so long journey hast In so small time dispatcht such hap as this The first heires of the first world long did misse And staid sometimes a thousand yeares well nigh Ere they as thou su'd out their Livery Happy young man and fortunately blest In all and amongst all not blessed least In thy Mecoenas that thrice-noble Lord Who count'nance to thy learning did afford Ne onely did thee hold in great regard But thee with bounteous hand did oft reward And grac'd thy person for thy vertues sake Mote learning-selfe and learned men him make Full great requitall gentle Lord for this And make his fame the golden Starres to kisse And by the power of their mightie Muse The praises eccho lowd of the Great Bruce And honour him who in so deere account Holds the true sonnes of the Syonian Mount Him leaving henceforth standing brave enrowl'd Amongst the Ancient Roman Peeres of old Mecoenas Varus Pollio Patrons all Whose show'rs of bountie downe did daily fall On merit and true worth and men of Art Cherisht and by their goodnesse kept in heart Forsooth the Lord whom I so truly vant All noble vertues in his bosome hant And as himselfe indeed right learned is Which Ah great pittie most great men doe misse So hath hee al 's ' a bounteous heart to prize And tender vertue and good qualities In all in whomsoever they appeare The very essence of a noble Peere Pardon great Lord this poore Parenthesis Which but the skirt of thy just praise doth kisse And which by way of humble thankes I send In name of my late living now dead friend Who living honour'd thee and spake all good Of thee and thine and thy rare bountihood That in his sicknesse didst so oft addresse Thy messengers and golden messages Yea and in person daign'st to visit him Where in he read to him thy great esteeme That had not mortall beene his maladie It much had made to his recoverie The joy and heartie comfort he conceiv'd Of'th gracious words and deeds from thee receiv'd God recompence this love to thee and thine Tenfold which thou to that deere friend of mine Whilst I returne againe to make an end Of this course webbe which I did him intend Which ere I fully finish take by the way Deere NAT this little what I have to say Unmanly 't is I know for men alive With Soule-divorced bodies once to strive Yet well as once I lov'd thee I must have A Contestation with thee in thy Grave Wee see by proofe 't is usuall in our Land For Traders having got into their hand All upon trust from others what they may Oft suddenly to breake and run away For their owne ends not caring to undoe Their Creditors with wives and
Whose riddle who so wise is to unfold Why the Suns course it daily follows so That as that to the South or West doth goe So broad or narrow this doth shut or ope And hight for thy ' the faithfull Heliotrope Then with Rose-buds if Rosebuds may be found It tissue thicke and traile it all around And last a traile of winding Ivie let Run all along on either side beset With sprigs of Daphnis stain'd with drops of gold And Olive leaves that still with peace doth hold In signe that hee with conquest dy'd in peace And doth the number of the Saints increase In eviternall peace free from annoy Of all this worlds fond cares which wont destroy All true content and racks mens hearts in twaine And makes them old before their time to gaine Some one or other worldly good which hence They must not with them beare and this torments Their very soules and makes that grudgingly With great reluctance hopelesse many die So nor in life nor death with peace are blest But to returne whence I too farre digrest Now on his Herse a counterpoint be cast And on this counterpoint this Garland plac't In token of th'integritie and truth And single Caelibat of his chast youth For single life right soberly maintain'd And kept from being vitiously profan'd Gaines thanks of God and man and with renowne And happy praise both life and death doth crowne Now forward set in order two and two And to the Temple doe before him goe Some with long Rosemary-branches in your hands Dangling with blacke and ashie-pale Ribbands And some againe with both your handfulls come Of sav'ry Dyll and senting Marjorum And that Thessalian herbe whence busie bees Suck hunny and with waxe doe load their knees And all the way with slips of wormwood dresse In signe of this dayes bitter heavinesse Clean-purging Isop bring and Germander With Cotton and her sister Lavander Bring Balme that quickly heales any green wound And sage that all the vitall parts keeps sound And Camomel how ever meane and base The Embleme of true constancie and grace That doth against all scornfull feet oppose And much more sweet for thy ' and thicker growes And Sallet-budded Broom wholsome and good To purge and eeke the waterish-wasted blood Bring Strawberry Primrose Plantan leaves Toutsain And all what ever Simples soveraigne For mans reliefe for in or outward cure Bring some of all leave none behinde be sure Bring Saint Iohns Wort whose vertuous oyle may dare For skill in healing with selfe Balme compare And Lungwort soveraigne above all the rest To ease the straitned bellowes of the brest And all the worts that ere yee reckon can For they are all wel-willers unto man And let not herbe of Grace forgotten bee Which as 't is such with him doth well agree For full was hee of grace and as 't is Rewe It us befits our rewfull hearts to shew Yea Rushes bring which strewed wont to been To welcome friendly strangers seldome seene But bring no hearbs I charge of evill fame That banefull ever to mans life became To let in death ere their appointed howre By their cold juice and inward deadly power Therefore I you areed no sleepie slip Of Poppie 'mongst your other hearbs let slip No Coloquintida ne no Henbane Nor Hemlocke that intoxicates the braine Nor Fennell-finkle bring for flattery Begot of lies and fained courtesie But above all as yee love him this day Whose funerall yee doon attend I pray Bring not the leaves of that sowre Indian fume The common Mountebanke which not the rheum But all diseases else to cure dare vaunt At least prevent which in our bodies haunt Which taints the breath and worse than any goat Doth make it stinke whereon men so do doate That morning Noone and Night they wont it take And their continuall deere companion make So like that poysonous Arrian Heresie It all the world hath over-run well nigh For now all matters ended or begun Must through this smoakie purgatory runne And all what ere wee eate and drinke is choak'd Yea sacred meat and drinke therewith are smoak'd With that pragmatick-crotched-pated Fryer Who Niter first devis'd to set on fire And to discharge it from that fatall gin To 'th bane of men to thunder neere of kin May he of all posteritie be curst Who brought this weed in daily practice first Ah for 't was this unsavory fulsome weed That traiterously conspir'd his death indeed Provoking him to cough which broke a veine Within his lungs first causer of his bane All wee for thy ' who now bewitched are With this deceitfull drugge in time beware Now all ye mourners who the honour have To beare him on your shoulders to his grave Take up your load and weeping all the way Unto his shadie chamber him convey The mother earth is readie to receive Her welcome child there in her armes him leave Thus finisht is midway my dolefull song Which ere I any further doe prolong My selfe I doe apply and turne my speech To whom it most concernes and them beseech For his deere sake whose memory is deere As was his life and love to mee too here In Jet or Touch these sorry lines ingraffe Too much though true is for an Epitaph Here WELD hath left his body in this Tombe In pawne till hee againe from Heaven come Whither hee 's gone on pilgrimage before The happy Saints to visit and adore His blessed Lord and Saviour till Doomes-day Where hee to wait on him intends to stand Then underneath his Monument write this Though of farre better hee most worthy is In plates of shining Brasse of purpose made And in black Marble on his Grave inlaid Here lyes the Mould the Coffin and the Shell That doth the Shell the Mould and Coffin hold Where late our deare friends blessed soule did dwell Now Heaven is to this blessed soule the Mould The Coffin and the Shell become untill The generall Assises of the world when all Soules their owne Moulds and Coffins shall fulfill And to their old Shels every Kernell fall In hopefull expectation of which day Our worthy WELD whom wee so justy mourne Leaves here his Gage that he 'll no longer stay Than he must needs but suddenly returne True signe that of his word hee will be just Thus in his absence to leave us the care Of his deere dust as his Feoffees in trust O Grave for his sake sacred be well ware No violence be done unto his dust But kept inviolate untill he come Till then religious Ashes rest in peace More than Mausolus in his glorious Tombe Till the renewing of your lives old lease And as a poore Appendix to his Tombe Writ so as to be read vouchsafe a roome To this my secret plaint and private mone Conceiv'd in silence to my selfe alone When at his grave I did recall to minde The fickle-fraile condition of mankind Ah for my friend who wish'd and lov'd mee well I him as well I
be releast Could ere redeeme such is the law of all Onely like fruit some sooner and some later fall I saw this blossome blasted in the spring I saw this flower wither'd in the budde And to my hearts eternall sorrowing This lamp new lighted beeing all too good Longer to burne in it owne oylely blood I drowned saw and quite extinguished Such is condition of all fleshlyhood Just like a buble that 's ingendred Of ayre and blistred water which eftsoone Breakes and with each small puffe of winde 's againe undone Monocchio non e misero nel presenza del cieco VVHen I consult the sacred Histories And other Stories of inferior sort And finde therein what under mysteries And plainly what they of mans life report Oft in the prime oft suddenly cut short And every day sad samples thereof see Mee seemes they secretly do mee exhort To fit my selfe the very next to be And meekly more my misery to beare Compar'd with others greater in degree As hee whose one eye perled is and bleare Seemes blest to him who can at all not see So they who others greater griefe and mone Can call to minde gaine strength to beare their owne Animali d'ogni sorte se trovarno nel Rete della morte HOw many a subtile snare and guilefull gin Hath man devis'd and daily doth devise To take all sorts of feather'd fowles therein Some birds nathlesse so warie been and wise Not to be tane for all his subtilties But there 's a fowler layes his deadly gins Man to intrap as man doth birds surprize Spreading his nets when his life first begins And though all things his fatall nets perceive Yet never bird this fowler could deceive All sorts to him beene all indifferent Ringtailes Buzzards Puttocks Ravens Crowes Pyes Th' imperiall Eagle and the Falcon Gent Pigions Parakitoes Peacocks and Popingies And Nightingales which pipe and minstrelize By night to all that fearfull shunne the day Yea and the Phoenix if yet mortall eyes Such Phoenix ever saw as Stories say In that foule-crab-fac'd-fowlers horrid hands Must gasp their last-fetcht-breath see where he stands O'gni dolore nuntio di morte SOre sicke him chanc'd a jolly Courtier fall Though not to death as he him surely thought But death unthought of doth upon him call And readie was away him to have caught Whereat amaz'd this Courtier him besought Not all so suddenly him to surprize But respit him some time that so he mought Prepare himselfe to die before he dies And three dayes warning prayes him send before He from this light his life did meane to reave To which death soone agrees so takes his leave Many yeares after as this Courtier sate For ought he felt in perfect strength and health Seriously thinking how to antidate Anothers life and seize on all his wealth Death suddenly comes skipping in by stealth Crying away The Gallant him upbraids of promise breach Not I quoth death but thou false to thy selfe Five fits o' th stone foure agues two fevers each Gray-haire the paine and losse of teeth all these With many a wrinkle since I from thee went My warnings and fore-runners I thee sent Dopo il Givoco cosi va nel sacco il Re come il Pedone IF in my weake conceit for selfe disport The world I sample to a Tennis-court Where fate and fortune daily meet to play I doe conceive I doe not much misse-say All manner chance are Rackets wherewithall They bandie men like balls from wall to wall Some over Lyne to honour and great place Some under Lyne to infame and disgrace Some with a cutting stroke they nimby send Into the hazzard placed at the end Resembling well the rest which all they have Whom death hath seiz'd and placed in their grave Some o're the wall they bandie quite away Who never more are seene to come in play Which intimates that even the very best Are soone forgot of all if once deceast So whether silke-quilt ball it bee or whether Made of course cloth or of most homely lether They all alike are banded to and fro And all at last to selfe same end do goe Where is no difference or strife for place No odds betweene a Trype-wife and your Grace The penny-counter's every whit as good As that which in the place of thousands stood When once the Audit's full cast up and made The learned Arts well as the manuall Trade The Prisoner and the Judge upon the Bench The pampred Lady and the Kitchin-wench The noble Lord or Counsailor of State The botchy-Lazer begging at the gate Like Shrubs and Cedars-mingled ashes lye Without distinction when they once do dye Ah for unpartiall death and th'homely grave Looke equall on the freeman and the slave So most unpartiall umpires are these twain A King with them 's but as a common Swain No upper hand 'twixt dust of poore and rich No Marshall there to sentence which is which And once resolv'd to powder none can ken The dust of Kings from dust of other men But as at Chesse when once the game is doon The side which lost and that as well which woon The victor King and conquer'd pawne together Jumbled are tumbled to th' same bagge of lether Without regard whether the pawne or King Therein lye uppermost or underling Nathlesse all sorts each sexe of purpose winke And of this destinie doon seldome thinke Living alacke as life should never faile And deeme of death but as an old wives tale Post mortem nescio cujus VVHy do the mightie beare themselves so high And vant their parentage and long discent Why do the rich so swell with surquedry Of their huge wealth which is but to them lent But till their lives uncertaine terme be spent Though where's the odds or what 's the difference Between the wealthy and the indigent When both unto the grave once part from hence Within a while their dust so mingled is That none can safely say this dust was his or his So have I seene the boistrous-body'd oake That above all her wide-spred armes enhanc't I saw it lopt with many a sturdie stroke From side to side I saw it thorow lanc't I saw it fall and headlong disadvanc't The silly shrub that there beside was growne I likewise saw quite rooted up and rancht I saw them both into the fire throwne I saw them wasted and in ashes lye But whethers ashes were by no meanes could discry Il sonno e una morte vivente VVHen I doe weigh how little differing Life is from death how little or nought at all Death is from sleepe when neere so small a thing Can make them all be transubstantiall Oh what amazement on my minde doth fall And I do wonder how I sleepe or wake Sith unto death in nature they so neere partake And in the morning after quiet sleepe When I consider to how