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death_n let_v life_n soul_n 9,147 5 4.9888 4 true
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A02622 Time is a turne-coate. Or Englands three-fold metamorphosis VVherin is acted the pensiue mans epilogomena, to Londons late lamentable heroicall comi-tragedie. Also a panegyricall pageant-speech or idylion pronounced to the citie of London, vpon the entrance of her long expected comfort. Written by Iohn Hanson. Hanson, John, fl. 1604. 1604 (1604) STC 12750; ESTC S118582 34,101 89

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tranquile Calme to surging seas of Cares From silent Mansion to a masse of Snares But rather wish in darke Obliuion cast Without a Being then on Earth be plac'd To gaze vpon the Suns bright Orient His Beames Meridian course and Occident The worlds delights would hold in spitefull scorne Intirely wishing he should ne're be borne This was obserued by the Drausians And as an Axiome high decretall stands That when a Babe from fruitfull wombe did rise Would mourne weepe and lament in wondrous wise For that they knew he was brought foorth to stand In this fraile Orbe as on the shiuering sand Readie to sinke into the depth of Feares Enuiron'd round with intricate Despaires But when one died then gladly they reioyce With rauishing Musicks-simphonizing voice In this respect they held him then set free From out the vale of cankred Miserie Thus Man by Nature is conceiu'd in wo From generatiue Seed continues so Still turn'd about with Times soft motion Disturbed-wise as Sysiphus rolles his stone Or boyling Eurypus which hurles along With neuer-ceassing Agitation Fast marching forward like a Souldier braue Yet step by step descends fast to his graue Till the last trauell of his mother Earth Shall purge him with regeneratiue Birth But in earths warre prepare heau'ns furniture That in thy death of life thou maist be sure As Nauigators first forgo the sight Of friends and next of cities faire and bright And finally lanch out from banke and shore With resolution ne're to see them more So Man 's depriued first of Infancie Next of his Youth and strong Virilitie In fine out-worne with his vnwealdie Age Loseth the sight of this Orbes spacious stage When hoarie Eld his stooping backe doth bend With concau'd eyes viewes then his rest and end Thus pedetentim Man exhales his breath If not preuented by immediate Death Euen as the Dials shade depos'd from Rest In one dayes space doth course from East to West By circumuersion slily passeth by Gradatim wise yet not discern'd with Eye So Man craules on twixt earth and heau'ns bright raies Towards the west and welking of his daies Yet knowes not when grim Death shall stop the race Of his lifes houres mouing with gentle pace As nothing is more sure then losse of Breath So nought's vnsurer then the kinds of Death Aeterna Lex hath sacredly described From whence th' euent of Life and Death 's deriued A generall vniformall path from Wombe But various by-waies to the graue and tombe As diuers ships lanch from one port and deepe Yet sundrie waies vpon the Surges sweepe Some bound for East to frost-bit Scythia Others for West to faire America Some subiect faile to Austers briefe controules Others range through breeme Boreas frozen poles So all atchieuc one entrance from their birth But various passage to their grandam Earth How many plunge to tristall timelesse fall As may appeare by proofes Authenticall By Murther Shipwracke Beasts Eluuion By Fire by Sword by Wars confusion By Famine Pestilence Earths Miserie By wondrous Accidents throwne downe from hie By Thundring Lightning Tempests that arise By desperate Sprites and damned Fallacies By Ioy by Penurie by Wealth by Wo Some apprehend vnnaturall ouerthrow By Nonnage Youth Old-age some strangely hie To the darke Mansion of Obscuritie Young Drusus Pompey Claudius lineall heire Amidst his sport was choaked with a Peare Eurypides was torne with dogs alone Anacreon stifled with a Raisins stone And Catulus pursuing timelesse death With stinking smoke did suffocate his breath When Marius souldiers swiftly did pursue Imbrac'd this death a better to eschue Valerius Carus Emp'rors great through might Perished by thunder and celestiall Light Plinie was burnt by wondrous fires that blaz'd From mount Vesuvius whereon still he gaz'd To comprehend the nature of that light Wherewith his dayes were consumated quite And hundreds mo which might in tragicke verse Be instanced too tedious to rehearse Thus various stands Times imminent turne of Men They know to die yet know not where nor when The heau'ns bright Eye knowes whē t' include his raies But Man knowes not the Vesper of his daies So whether thou incline to Good or Ill Or frame thy heart to Natures wilfull Will Or plant such trees which bring foorth bitter fruit In thy Soules soyle following with hote pursuit Earths soure-sweet Pleasures various in their tasts Yet still thy Lampe combusts thy lifes Oyle wasts Wheeling about with blasts of whirle-wind Time To Deaths darke den of dust and putride slime Admit thou reapst Youths flourishing verdant flours And ouer-runne the glasse of Nestors houres Yet at the last Lifes roote will withered be And stocke traduc'd to grosse Morositie The Sap once dried Life instantly is gone Euen as a Dreame or Apparition And as greene fruites by ripenesse fall from tree Or sparkes which of themselues extinguish'd be So Nature must thy fruitlesse branches send To the succincting Period of their end Then let this Dish be seru'd last at thy Feast Memento mori VIR incertus est He that his Soule to sinfulnesse doth bend Let him recount the Sorrowes of his End Whē heau'ns shril Trump shal rowze him frō his sleep And Goates sequestred from the harmlesse Sheepe Before the generall ludge shall he be brought To plead Peccaui for each triuiall Thought Like as his life shall be his Death and end VVhat Death abandons Iudgements apprehend VVhat Life and Death in Good or Ill defrayes The Iudge in iudgement to his Soule repayes Heau'ns work-men then their wages shall be paid VVhen slouthfull slugs in Dungèon shall be laid VVhere Fire shall burne yet not consume them quite Nor to their comfort yeeld them any Light There shall they die in life and liue to die Such Horrors waité on hels Eternitie O London meekely prostrate on thy knee Fore heau'ns great King with pure Sinceritie Reuolue his praise Creator of that Day VVherein the Organs of thy Senses play VVho hath preseru'd thee from Sedition From thirstie Sword and staru'd Occision Better it is a thousand times for Sin To fall into the hands of God then men For brunt of fierie Wars are mercilesse But God in mercie will thy woes redresse This caus'd the princely Prophet wars refuse By inspiration Pestilence did chuse Thou that art poisoned with this fierce disease And fierie torments furiously increase If all externall Remedies were gone Haue thou recourse to heau'ns Phisition Perfume the inward roomes of thy Desites With sauours sweet and holy-heated Fires Moisten thy couch with reares for thy offence To quench the flames of burning Pestilence Sing sadly foorth to Heau'n this sacred Dittie Thus stirre Iehoua to soules-sauing pitie If thou shouldst search the poysoned heart of man If thou in ludgement shouldst his indgements scan If thou shouldst view how vile his Nature is If thou shouldst notice take what 's done amisse Then would his name be written in the aire Then would Obliuion wrap him in Despaire Then would he ne're atchieue Heau'ns crowning Fame Then
wandring starres are mixed Conioyne in one ye Sphaeres caelestiall Ye Muses nine performe this Funerall Condole her death whose glorious life was so As by her life her death was freed from wo Whose life repleat with grace exempt from strife Whose death 's transformd to neuer-dying life Cynthia faire Sister to blacke ladie Night That Gehons streames with golden Icons dight To whom heau'ns senior Lights proffer their dutie For thy surpassing and refulgent Beautie Renounce thy borrowed Shine reuoke thy race With clouds of Languishment remaske thy face Sad Melpomen with tragicke Scaenes relent Each Marble rocke and obdurated Flint Sigh foorth deepe accents of thy sacred Loue To cause the stonie-hearted Sauage moue Straine out Threnodiae thy assiduall note For Time hath roab'd himselfe with sable Cote Ye sacred Nymphs hang down your Sun-bright haires Bedew your cheekes with penitentiall teares Conduct me to some solitarie Cell Wherein I may with pale-fac'd Sorrow dwell Alas my Muse doth faint ere she proceed To tune Encomions on a mournfull Reed Wise Caliope sweet Queene of Eloquence Inspire her Thoughts with sacred influence Take courage Muse pure Zeale shall stand thy barre Looke not agast on euery frowning Starre Plucke vp thy sprite from pitchie Acheron Solace amidst the fields of Hellicon Now bath thy selfe in the Pierian spring Where thy sad Sisters mournfully do sing Go seeke that Phoenix mounted in the skie Transform'd to euer-during Dignitie The Phoenix of our age Earths onely Faire Faiths Empresse and heau'ns high glorious Haire Englands Phoenix admir'd for Raritie For Beautie Vertue and pure Chastitie O shee 's consum'd with heau'ns resplendent Light That from her ashes one might rise as bright And flourish foorth vpon the verdant ground Whose paralel in Art is scarcely found Why striues my Muse to stellifie her name The bright-eyed-wondring world diuulg'd her fame And Fame it selfe flies swiftly from her nest To blaze her honor from the East to West Sad Sicknesse the pale Harbinger of Death Foredoom'd the losse of Syrinx daughters breath Blacke furious Fate that wrought such deepe despight To locke faire Phoebe from Endimions sight I meane Eliza ô write that name againe That with reuoluing Time it may remaine Eliza she who was profound in Art Is now strucke dead with Thanatos his dart Eliza who in many dangers stood For Gods high glorie and her subiects good By her th'incarnate Gospell was possest Through her all Britaines Ile Iehoua blest For her the heau'ns rain'd down such plenteous store As Natures greedie Sons could wish no more Honor imbrac'd her Art by her did stand Prudence attended on her genious hand Iustice in Mercie with her bare the sway Glorie infinite her last Catastrophé The fatall Sisters ioyntly haue decreed Old Atropos should cut that vitall threed Which counites the Substance with the Soule Nūbing each Sense with leane-chapt Deaths cōtroule This state is incident to Natures lot Drawne through the world in Times still chariot With two vnruly Steedes and hurl'd along By restlesse Motion and Mutation At length they leaue her on Deaths dismall stage As being wearie of their cariage Then his grim Sergeant comes without controule T' arrest her bodie dis-unite her soule He takes no bribes but strikes impartiall The Begger Baron Caitiffe King and all If Death had fear'd to stop Astraeaes breath Then had he spared Queene Elizabeth Whose soule is now enthroniz'd boue the skies Where glorious Cherub's sing her Exequies Through Ioues broad milk-white path now is she gone And stately royaliz'd on Angels throne The siluer Vault with Epods deepe resounds Of her rare Vertue which on Earth abounds I wish Eliza from vs could not passe Who made each place a heau'n wherein she was Th' Almightie Ioue so lock't Virginitie From Antidotes and banefull Trecherie That burning poyson ne're effected harme Although confected with a Magicke charme How many treasons direfull accidents Base-bred complots and experiments Conspir'd her death yet still preseru'd was she By heau'ns eternall Triple-Vnitie How many striu'd to stop Elizaes breath Yet to their shame she died a liuing death For which we laud th' Immortall Deitie Who mixeth ioy with sad calamitie Her fame on earth is painted by all Seuen Her corps in Lead her soule a Saint in heauen Eliza liu'd now is Eliza dead And Dauid rais'd in her Angellike stead Shee 's quite extinct yet hath she left behind The true Idaa of her princely mind Right royall IAMES the Britons gracious King Whose honor through the circling Globe doth ring The Rose is cropt which glistered in each face And yet as faire sprung instantly in place A Rose most sweet and odoriferous A Rose of grace to cheare and comfort vs A Rose that springeth in a Northerne blast A Rose whose lustre doth in Winter last O Wonder that rough Boreas dropping wing Should waft such showres to a desired Spring England prostrate thy selfe with folded hands Whose ioyes are numberlesse euen as the sands Before the powerfull and almightie Throne Who gaue regard vnto thy grieuous mone Sending to thee such an Athenian King Whose learning is the round Orbes wondering A soueraigne Balme vnto thy Corasiue Which did thy half-dead-wounded heart reuiue When Phoebus Lute tuned his mournfull note To make Time turne his glistring golden cote Couragious Cato with his warlike traines While rang'd in rancke vpon the champion plaines Sweet-breathed Zephyrus vp softly blew The fragrant flowers which in medowes grew Vpon their glittering targets then they cride Aglorious Triumph shall to vs betide Euen so the Flowers of fruitfull Brittanie Blowne with the wind of zealous Loyaltie Did congregate in troupes proclaim'd a King Whose name once heard most gladsom ioy did bring When glorious Titan hath his compasse run The foule-maskt gloomie Night ensues thereon Bright Sol declin'd Luna skips in the skie Approou'd by Nature in Philosophie Iehoua derogated Englands Light And yet pursude no duskie darksome Night No sooner Britaine had her bright-Eye lost But straight another gaz'd from Northern coast No sooner did Eliza take her flight But instantly king IAMES appear'd in sight For whom true hearts render immortall praise To high Iehoua who this Starre did raise To yeeld them light to stand their soueraigne Lord And Patron pure of the soule-sauing word O blessed Time when peerelesse Princes preach When Dauid doth his sonne Gods precepts teach He is the sense-concluding Period Of Englands solace charactred by God The pure quintessence of her flourishing state To whom her life is worthie subiugate O what a learned Varro hath she gain'd Who mou'd blith Gelos euen when harts complaind A Cicero for flowing Eloquence A valiant Caesar for Magnificence Don Phoebus rising from his scarlet bed Out of his easterne Closet thrust his head Spreading his flame-hair'd broad vermilion lockes Vpon the earth the sea the trees and rockes Espide a fairer shining here below Pluckt in his head no more his face durst show Now England England shake off sad annoy Thy forts are full replenished