Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A03203
|
A funerall elegie vpon the death of the late most hopefull and illustrious prince, Henry, Prince of Wales / vvritten by Thomas Heyvvood.
|
Heywood, Thomas, d. 1641.
|
1613
(1613)
|
STC 13323; ESTC S123365
|
7,095
|
24
|
Come from rent hearts and those that griese proclaime Confused thoughts the best conceits destroy And are more harsh then when we sing of ioy Being great in Name his study did agree To make Him great in Purpose and his deeds Answere his Stile His Goodnesse was so free It wanted bound one Royall action breeds A second still the end of one's to be The entrance to another that succeeds Honour the Manna of each generous Spirit Was to him as the Crowne he was to inherit For well he knew if Fire it selfe should hide By his owne Smoake it would it self betray Or if that Water should it selfe diuide As weary of the world and steale away Yet by the Reeds plac'd by the Riuer side She might be train'd and so be made to stay But Honour fled with it it beares His tracke No Time no Age can stay or call him backe His Spirits were all actiue made of fire Which saue in trauell can admit no rest High were his thoughts yet still surmounting hy're His very Motiues Industry profest To be in Action was his sole desire And not to be so he did most detest To end his Praise and proue him past compare To all his Fathers vertues he was heire He was but yesterday and now is faded Who when we held him deerest was then lost So Lands that thinke them saf'st are oft inuaded And when they least feare are afflicted most So the clear'st skies with blackest clouds are shaded So Pleasures thought most certain soon'st are crost For 't is a Maxime that shall euer stand Pleasure and Sorrow still march hand in hand As Hector had he suruiu'd Tray to see From Isliams lofty Tower his yong sonne cast Or such griefe Priam as it was to thee When worthy Hector both the first and last Of all Troyes hopes sunke dead me thinkes I see In Royall IAME's thy sorrowes quite surpast With double anguish trebole passions fired When he first heard Prince Henry was expired And you Maiesticked ANNE when Hecub saw Sweet Polymnestor all the poore remaine Of her braue Issue beat by many a flaw And to the shore forc'd by the billowy Maine Methinks from her face I your griefe could draw And you Prince Charles next of that royall straine In yong Polytes I your teares can tell That day in field his brother Troylus fell For you most hopefull Princesse I comprise Your passions in a Dame though not so faire Yet as those Times affoorded beauteous wise And with the best of that age might compare Your Teares I reade in bright Pollixen's eyes That sonne which shee beheld saw none so rare Though you but once she oft had cause of woe Her as in beauty you in griefe out-goe But in this plangor whom had I forgot You my Mecaenas oh it cannot be That I am so ingrate beleeue it not Though passion almost takes my sence from me Oh let me neuer weare so foule a spot As worthy Earle not to remember Thee Thrice noble Worster gaue my Muse first wing And from his bounty shee had voyce to sing So should my bosome harbour something new Ingratitude with me no way agreeing Then should I not remember whence I grew Or from what power I first receiu'd my being To mine owne heart I should not then be true First hands forget your vse my eyes their seeing My tongue thy office and my Muse her skill That nere more inke drop from her ragged quill Pious Aeneas still when I record A man in whom all vertues were compleate When Priam's best of sonnes fell by the sword How he abandon'd rest ioy comfort meate So oft haue I remembred you graue Lord Equall in vertues and your griefe as great All those glad hopes you from his life did borrow You in his death haue backe rapai'd with sorrow Yet why should you bewaile him since he 's past This Transitory raigne for one ay-during To vex your selues would but his soule distast He hath but left a Crowne of earths assuring For one immortall that can neuer wast Subiect to Time nor Age there 's no alluring Of mortall pompe can counteruaile the least Of heauens pure blisse so are there ioies increast Auerre we then and without contradiction The losse is ours but his eternall gaine T is his best good all be it our affliction That such a generall sorrow we sustaine Death that hath giuen him this new iurisdiction Doubles his ioyes as he augments our paine Then as we lou'd him let 's rejoyce in this The greater was our losse the more 's his blisse Not for Him then but for our selues lament He needs them not t is we haue vse for teares He soiournes where can come no discontent T is we that labour vnder sicknesse yeares Heates colds Distemprature of Element Dangers of body and th'amaze of feares From all mis-fortunes to the world decreed Of which we stand in doubt hee 's happy freed Not for him then but for our selues expend Soorses of sad and direfull lamentation Who see our Griefes liue and our Hopes haue end Since Death hath in one blow wounded a Nation Since Heauen no greater glories can extend Then she enioyes leauing vs nought but Passion Since should Death breake his Dart ne're shoot more He cannot cure the hurt he made before He that will act the wonders of his praise Shall finde the world a Theater too small Fame with her Trumpet shall his glories blaze Yet ere to their full height grow hoarse withall Whom who shall striue to imitate or raise An equall Hope to his needely must fall Prostrate confounded with his owne ambition So farre shall be precede him in condition Therefore what my Pen scants him in his merit With mine owne inward Passions I l'e supply More then an Earthly Prince hee 's now a Spirit Thron'd in a Kingdome vnto which the Sky Is but a Foot-pace euer there to inherit Beyond all Time to all eternity Where I lament not Hee is Thron'd and plac't I onely grieue that Hee hath made such hastle Thomas Heywood FINIS