Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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A09525
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Englands Cæsar His Maiesties most royall coronation. Together with the manner of the solemne shewes prepared for the honour of his entry into the cittie of London. Eliza. her coronation in heauen. And Londons sorrow for her visitation. By Henry Petowe.
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Petowe, Henry.
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1603
(1603)
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STC 19806; ESTC S119196
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6,573
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38
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ENGLANDS CAESAR His Maiesties most Royall Coronation Together with the manner of the solemne shewes prepared for the honour of his entry into the Cittie of London Eliza. her Coronation in Heauen And Londons sorrow for her visitation By Henry Petowe LONDON Printed by Iohn Windet for Mathew Law and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Fox in Paules Church-yarde 1603. TO THE CVRTEOVS and wise yong Gentlemen vnited in Loue Master N. H. Master Ro. W. Master I. H. Master L. K. Master H. A. and Master Tho. S. Henry Petowe wisheth increase of vertue and prosperous successe in all their affaires I Haue aduentured curteous vertuous and wise with the strong wrastlers of Olympia though not to winne yet to worke for the Garland I meane the Laurell wreath of your gentle fauours The iudgement of my labours relyeth on your seuerall censures whereof if your opinions rellish but one small taste of content I presume vpon a generall liking of others such is the sufficiencie I conceaue of your discrete iudgements Therefore touch and taste taste and disgest but with such contentment that you may applaud the fruitfull operation How it will prooue I know not but I hope pleasant in disgesture For howeuer the fruits of my toyle now rellish after the long gathering I dare protest the tree from whence they were pluckt came of a Royall stocke make therefore your seuerall choyces of the best and if you finde some more greene then others impute it to their want of growth in that they are but yong and not come to their true perfection or rather blame my rashnes that make sale of them for mellow fruite when indeede they are not ripe But in hope they will all proue delicious according to your expectations I present them in all loue to your kinde acceptances promising as much in affection as any other can performe in perfection Therefore looke and like of such as you finde and I promise you vnder your fauourable incouragements to imploy all my best designes and studies to your seuerall good likings Yours in all that he may H. P. Ad Lectorem GO princely writ apparelled in loue The poyson of all sorrowes to remooue Inrich thy selfe and me by thy selfe riches And striue to mount beyond our Poets pitches And thou kind Reader reading this my writ Applaud the inuention of an infant wit Though yoong it be it hath as good a hart To merite well as those of high desart Then blame it not although for Fame it striue For after death Fame still remaines aliue Thine in all loue H. P. The Induction Now turne I wandring all my hope againe And loose them from the prison of dispaire Ceasing my teares that did bedew the plaine And clearing sighes which did eclipse the ayre My mourning weeds are off and sigh I may not Ioy stops my teares and Ioying weepe I cannot Nor tonge nor penne nor witte can truly sing His wondrous worth and matchlesse dignitie I meane the glory of the English King Which wraps my Muse in all felicitie Oh were my penne so rich in Poetrie As to pourtray his royall Maiestie But since she is not as I would she were And since I cannot as I wish I could No maruell though her weakenes doe forbeare To sing that Royall song which all pennes should Yet what she can she will for loue compile Not seeking glory for a stately stile Goe ioyfull truce-men in your virgin weedes Vnder a Royall Patron I haue past you Soake vp the teares of euery hart that bleeds And on the wings of Fame hence quickly hast you And from the siluer mayne of Calmy Thames Sound forth the worth of our Heroicke Iames. Into the eares of drooping London thunder The King of peace and plentie sallies by Bid her reioyce in him our English wonder Who mournes to see her in extremitie He mournes for her euen at his Coronation T' will greiue her soule to taste his Royall passion Yet London thou art happie by his teares That weepes for thee whom all the world else feares HIS MAIESTIES MOST Royall Coronation WIthin the Table of AEternitie In leaues outwaring Brasse shall Fame write downe With Quilles of Steele the lasting memory Of Englands Caesar and great Caesars Crowne Giue place yee silent shadowes of blacke night And let the brightest Lamp of Heauen shine Vanish thou Time of Dreames for to delight This Ieme must be suruei'd with Angels eyne Angels as bright as is the brow of Heauen When nere a Clowd hangs lowring in the Sky When foggy mists are from the Sphere bereuen And Angels bewtie Mates with Heauens eye Such Sunne-bright Angels with a smiling face Must Englands Caesars Coronation grace Mount high my Soule the Harbinger of light Plaies Iocand Musicke to the welcome day Aurora blushes and the sable night Vnto the ruddy morning giues faire way From forth th'esterne clyme behold the Sunne Shines on the Turrets of great Caesars Towre And summons him to ware what he hath won By true succession what brow dares to lowre Or contradict the will of mightie Ioue He 'le haue it so for Englands future blisse Our King is his anoynted derest loue And what we haue we farme it but as his Then like true leigmen let our voyces sing Glory to God that he may blesse our King This is the day yea this the happie day Makes Heauen smile and Tellus weepe for ioy Euen from her dry parch't womb a liquid sea Of Christall water issuing o're the bay Of the o'r ioyed earth of my iocand Soule Can'st thou forbeare excesse surfet and die My thoughts of ioy are farre beyond controule My Spirit in a blisfull extasie See see the azure firmament is clere Through which we may discerne as in a glasse Faire troups of Angels that doe guild the Spheres Gaze setled eyes the like sight neuer was Reioyce faire England for thy Soueraigne pray Angels themselues grace this triumphant day But stay my Pen my Muse doth gin to slumber And slumbring dreames a dreame of sacred blisse Oh happie vision wake and tell this wonder Awake my Soule my Pen write what it is Me thought faire Tryton with his siluer Trump As if he progra'st to the Parliament Of all the Gods sounds not a solemne dumpe But with a florish wraps heauen in content Next him the winged Mercury doth pace Clad in rich robes by Vesta's virgins wrought Who on his shoulder beares a Golden mace Enchast with glorious Pearle oh heauenly thought What then succeedes this obiect after seene Delia triumphant which was late our Queene On whose right hand attended Ganymed Darling to Heauen and the pride of Ioue By t'other hand was she by Cupid led Venus faire issue and the God of Loue. Thus paced triumphant Delia to her throne The chast Dyana bearing vp her traine Then followed the Sences one by one Touching their siluer strings with sweetest streyne Next them drad Ioue with Iuno in his hand Apollo next with Pallas arme