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death_n die_v life_n see_v 16,095 5 3.5035 3 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A18733 A feast full of sad cheere vvhere griefes are all on heape: where sollace is full deere, and sorrowes are good cheape. Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604. 1592 (1592) STC 5231; ESTC S104981 9,770 20

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beares in brest to Country such great loue and zeale As still they doe their best to serue both Prince Common-weale Let Fraunce Scotland both and Ireland shew in louing sort His duety and his troth bid all those Realmes yeeld true report And tell me who can say now borne in this our Brittish soyle He passed cleere this day through such great roomes without some foyle And last in Court of all Sir Iames Acroffts Controller was That credite i 〈…〉 ot small that place through many perrils passe Yet that and 〈◊〉 he rest of honors he possessed heere Fild neyther purse nor chest for he bought all those honors deere VVith losse of time and wealth and dreadfull dangers day and night To hazard life and health and all he had for Countryes right Yea in his brauest boast when he in greatest fauour stood And profits deserud most the Princes died should doe him good Saue one a Queene most rare to whom great God great grace dooth send Tooke of his case som care thought to help him in the end But ere the comfort came his blaze and candle cleane went out And meeke milde as lambe that doth no death nor danger doubt He tooke his last farewell and so lost life lands goods and all To her he serued well so long as he was at her call Loe what mishaps men haue to rise and rule and gouerne mych Yet going to their graue the world may see they die not rych A signe they had no hord but had their hope in Prince and troth By seruice and by sword to purchase fame and treasure both Now lowe in earth he lies that hie did sit and beare great sway Tyll he and wee shall rise and heare our doome at Iudgement day FINIS Sir William Winter Knight his Epitaphe WHat mourning verse or careful cries shal serue where sadnes floes Where soking sighes and blobred eyes a world of sorrowe shoes Be still and mute ô house of ioy giue groning griefe some place Turne sollace sweet to sowre annoy that soone is scene in face Let gladsome mirth goe where it please make woe a welcome guest Bid each delight and wished ease dislodge from troubled brest Let sports and pleasures silent be and name no earthly blis For heauy harts doe best agree where death and dollor is So if you shape your selues to heare what did by death befall This verse may chaunce to change your cheare make you mourne withall A knight here lies but late aliue who purchast pereles praise Who nobly long for fame did striue by seruise sundry waise On sea and land a happy man that bore a Lyons hart Who honor wealth worship wan throw sword and due desart His skill and councell gaue great grace where martial people were And where he shewd his manly face he put his foes in feare A victor that brought conquest home from many a fight and field A Champion that in hard attempts had rather die then yield A chieftain oft that might commaund both ships men good store A gallant guide that throw would goe and leade them all before His presence promisd good successe of all he tooke in hand A cheerefull comfort in distresse a lode-star of our Lande A worthy that had great regard of charge and liues of men A wight in world right well preferd by sword but not by pen. Most graue of words and stout of mind ful constant firme and fast Not turnd like weltring waues with wind nor sturd by storme or blast A targe of proofe to publique state of iudgement deepe and great That could of Countries weale debate like Sage in Senate seate A sparke of Mars by speech lookes wherein the world might spy A warlike mind a worthy head a hart and courage hye His seruice last on sea declard what kinde of man he was Whose worth is of as great regard as gold is from the glasse VVhat want of him haue we the while to leese this Iewell now VVhose valour showne amid this Ile lyke pearle in princely brow Come Souldiours then with drum and fife and sound his deere adue Lament the losse of Winters life in black sad mourning hue Come Captaines all both rich and poore with shot Armor bright And traile your Collours on the flowre in honor of this Knight Come wofull babes come sun and ayre cast off your garments gay And clap on robes of deepe dispaire to waile this dismall day Cold death hath doone vs all this wrong by griefe that body bred For Winter might haue liued long and had not now beene dead If Death gaue not consent thereto that lyes like priuie watch But loe what Cannon could not doe Death made thereof dispatch Yet at the brūt of all this broyle whē conscience cast account How soone the life should leaue this soile and where the soule should mount He held vp hands with staied thought to highest clowdes aboue And so set all the world at nought and died as meeke as Doue We hope the heauens haue embrast the soule we could not keepe And that by grace is Winter plast in Abrams brest to sleepe FINIS The good Maister VVilliam Holstocks Epitaph Controller of the Queenes Maiesties Nauie MVse not to see this man in Tombe all flesh to graue must goe Death calls for life ere day of doome to pay the debt we owe. 〈◊〉 went from world when worlds good wil embrast him eu'ry where For whom his friends sits wayling still and sheds full many a teare What taketh breath and life must die the best and worst takes leaue What comes from earth in earth must lie els we our selues deceaue Then worldlings waile the dead no more he liues dwels in skye For Holstocke did but goe before to learne vs all to die In youth this forward Martiall man was still in seruice great Where he much fame and credite wan through many a warlike feate In age his care of Country such as he lou'd nothing more Whereon he could not talke too much if cause fel out therefore Hys courage alwaies him prefard whiles he in world did liue To worthy place of great regard which Prince did freely giue As he increast to wished wealth or worship through desart He shewd in sicknes and in health a cheerefull librall hart Held house and plentious table still full long and many a yeere Did welcome guests with great good wil that came to tast his cheere Made much of all good vertuous men and what so ere befell Was glad and pleasant now and then with those he liked well Full wise in deede and waer of word and carefull of his charge And alwaies free and francke at boord where his expence was large Belou'd and praisd of poore and rich and prayd for sundry waies Good Holstocke shall be missed much in these hard needy daies A conscience cleere a fayth most fearme a currant stampe of truth Kept touch and promise time and tearme fearde God in age
youth A mighty minde in stature meane that ventred life full oft On sea or land among the best that looked most aloft Good writers haue in seueral bookes set forth his value throw That those which on the seruice lookes should honor Holstocke now As lyfe got laude so he at death to friends and children said O babes before I yeeld vp breath and Pilgrims part be plaid I blesse you all and giue my goods among you as I may Then in the bed shrunke downe his head and went like blaze away The good he did in his accounts where soule now pleading is He feeles where heauenly ioy surmounts all kind of earthly blis FINIS The Epitaphe of Doctor Vnderhill latelie B. of Oxforde WHat helpeth hap or due deserts to bee in fauour here Whē life is mixt with such orethwarts we buy our fortunes dere Gay gold or pearle brought home from farre at end consumes away Great fame attainde by peace or warre doth quickly heere decay The loue of friends and fauour won of wise and worthy wights Steales hence like shadow of the sun or stars in moonshine nights Sate I not safely Vnderhill in calmie vale below From bitter biasts and tempests still how ere the winde did blow What suddaine storme then troubles me that had so sure a seate Hath winters wast blown down my tree that feard no summers heat O tell harde Destnies why you did enuy my happy state Infury now O God forbid I should cry out on fate Or braule chide with churlish Death for when we hence must goe What beareth life or draweth breath are horve to die I knoe My friend is gone the passing bell hath rung his rusull end The graue God wote we see full well doth for his corse attende Now Vnderhill lyes vnder ground knit vp in sheete full short Whose wit and learning did abound as Oxford makes report He Bishop was of that faire seate where floods of wisdome floes To whose sweet springs and Fountaine great a world of people goes O would to God he had beene there when he his time did waste And caught conceit some other where that halde him hence in haste His lyfe was such that none could staine with any blot or crime Vnmatcht alone he did remaine and so spent all his time In chaste content and single wise a good report to gaine As one that did this world despise and held all pleasure vaine Held house and table in such rate as though his rent had bin As great as any hie estate whose wealth comes flowing in Kept men that had good gifts of grace lou'd those that worthy were To schollers shewd a cheerfull face relieu'd them eu'ry where His bounty and large librall minde did daily so exceede That he was glad some cause to finde to helpe all those that neede His words were of so great a waight to ballance eu'rie case That who so heard his iudgement straight would giue his wisedome place His sensure made the sentence cleere so shut vp the dout That sure a ioy it was to heare him canuase questions out His loue and zeale to Prince and state in Pulpit was exprest And what thereof he did debate surmounted all the rest His hauiour was so sweet and meeke that men might easely know No vertue was in him to seeke he made so full a showe For friendship faith and dealings iust he past the greater sort An vpright man of speciall trust with passing comely port A thunder-bolt to forraine foes a skurge to each new Sect And one the Lord aboue had chose to be his owne elect Full long before his leaue he tooke and life made his last end Vnto the heauens did he looke and praied with a frend And when the pangs of death arose as sicknes did increase He held vp hands and eyes did close and went away in peace O England hadst thou many such to be thy Iewels now Thou could'st not praise those men too much if thou wilt way them throw Not I alone lament the losse for many more there be A liue to beare this heauy crosse of sorrow now with me FINIS The quick I fawne not on the dead may none dispise Speake well of those are gone is likt among the wise The quick must die or droope as fairest flowre in field Vnto the strongest troope the weakest force doth yield So to the vertuous sort that leaues good name behinde I yeeld but true report to call the dead to minde The vnhappy mans deere adewe that findes nothing good cheape but sorrowe IF Scipio said hys Countrey was ingrate And would not haue his bones be buried there If Tullie found a most vnthankfull state Whose foule rebukes no manly minde might beare Then I may walke like Pilgrim eu'ry where As one compeld to shunne from natiue soyle Where labour long reapt nought but losse and toyle Youth first be guilde in Court with hope forlorne Than middle age all wearied with sharp war And nowe olde eld to liue in lack and scorne Whose wounded limbs showes many a wofull skar And sundry waies consum'd with trauaile far These open plagues and inward griefes of mind Cryes out and saith my Country is vnkinde I seru'd in field foure Princes of greate fame Borne vnder those an humble subiect true Three other Kings of great renowne and name In faithfull sort I seru'd for wages due But heere liege Lords I doe appeale from you That neuer did aduaunce my loyall hart For treble toile for paines nor iust desart Ten thousand haue found Fortunes fauour good Since I began to tread the steps of time And thousands rose that in meane places stoode And to the top of Fortunes wheele did clime Since I possest one dram of worldly slime Yea eu'ry Waspe and hatefull Homble-bee Sucks vp the sap of my poore Cyper tree Like Tantalus I feede and faint for foode No better fare at Fortunes hands I finde Still neere good hap yet farre from quiet moode Tost vp and downe like fether in the winde Neuer thought on but euer out of minde As world should thrust a man from credite quite So seemes to die and yet must liue in spite If any one that stands at VVell-head still Had freely fild my empty bucket bare Or of himselfe had show'd me such good will To leaue some drops of water to my share That I had beene refresht as others are My thirstye throate or skalded hart had felt Some sucker sweet that now with heate doth swelt Or if good mindes of men had broke the yee That keepes by cold the fountaine frozen hard Or turnd the cock the conduit or the vice That vnder locke is long shut vp and bard Or to the Prince my simple sute prefard I silly man had sure possest some place That should make glad my selfe and all my race No Butter cleaues nor sticks vpon my bread No Honny-combes will breede in my bare hyue My gold but glasse my siluer worse then lead My luck as bad as