VIRTVS POST FVNERA VIVIT Or Honour Tryumphing over Death Being true EPITOMES of Honorable Noble Learned And Hospitable Personages VVILLIAM SAMPSON Printed by JOHN NORTON 1636. A Proeme To the right Honorable and most nobly deserving Lord WILLIAM Earle of New-Castle Barron Ogle c. Right Honorable CAESAR did adventure to write his owne acts heroicke deedes by commentary and very well he might I that with Virgils gnat have nothing to write of my selfe save misery have assaied to write the lives Pious and vertuous deedes of others not that by this they are immortalizde for their owne Worthes Vertues Hospitable and Pious deedes united have eternized themselves My full scope modest aime is to perpetuate them on Earth that posterities unborne may not let such Honorable Religious vertuous acts as your nobleprogenitoâ—s have done daily do performe slip into oblivion but as in a christall mirror we may here behold them as from the beginning we had our sa cred lawes in the first table writte your Honour is the Sanctuary to whose high Altar of goodnes I alwaies flie too for redresse in all extreames â—one whom I know with Anaxeritis had rather receive a cruse of cold water from your Poore Sinetis then a goblet of rich aromaticke or cretan wine from a flattering Gnatho the God of Heaven earth blesse you my honorable Lady my Honorable Mecenas and all your noble and Honorable families and posterities sending you your harts wish Temporall Eternall Your Honours humblest Creature WILLIAM SAMPSON To the right Honorable most Religious and truly noble Lady CARISTIAN DOVVAGER Countesse of Devon Mother to the right honorable WILLIAM Earle of Devon and to the right Honorable the Lady Aâ—n Riâ—h her honours sole Daughter Right Honorable Fame and Envy that usd to be sworne enemies of the dead either in detracting or saying too much in this place subject themselves Envy submits and fame continues her resolution which is to divâ—lge unto the world deedes of Honor Piety and Truth worthy of Fames Trumpet To your families your Honour and your issue these properly belong you are the needle by whom these Sun-dialls of Charity hourely and daily goe 't is you that lengthen and not lessen these Charitable and most Religious deedes begun by your progenitors of blessed memory I neede not say with Horace Tn recte vivis si curas esse quod audis For the lives and actions of this family all tend to divine honour Heaven continue it and with it long daies and happy ones and send that noble stem your Honourable Son that lovely branch of Honour a Hâ—lcyon gale that he may safely arrive at your feete for a blessing and continue an arme of comfort to your Hnnor and all this most Honorable family To whom and to your Honor I rest an humble servant WILLIAM SAMPSON To the right Honorable CHARLES Lord Vis-count Mansfeild Son and heire to the right Honorable my singular good Lord WILLIAM Earle of Now-castle Barron Ogle c. Lord Leiftennant of his Majestics too famous Counties Nottingham and Derby SOle heire of thy great fathers vertues I Present these Funerall odes unto thine eie Wherein though young like to Tully's Son You may perceive what great deedes have ben don By your progenitors deigne then to read These living Trophees of true honour dead Though wise Cratippus reach you yet behold How vertue robes nobility in gold We know there is a Sun because his light Apâ—'y distinguishes twixt day and night Your Ancestors like to th glorious Sun Have led the way you Honours race mâ—â—st râ—n Your infant Honours like to a welcome Spring Are by the Graces mark'd for vertues King Live there and grow there never may I see A fall'oth Leafe in your progenitrie Shine in thy Princes favours and appeare Like the bless'd Sunne when as hetrotes the spheare Let no cloud blemish thee still may your eâ—e Aime at the graces of high Majesty Out-grow thy honord fathers goodnes then Th art honours Map the non-pâ—reill of men Your Mother weares the wreath of goodnes you From such faire Trees must neede a Trophy grow Blessâ—d be you ever may I still deserve Next my devotions them and theirs to sâ—rve Your honours servant till Death VVilliam Sampson In laudem Authoris LAudabunt alii vel Classica vatis Achaei Phaliscus Vel Dircaei Candida Cigni Carmina sive Lyrâ Flaccum Sophoclemve Cothurno Insigneis aut pectine Bassum Sunt quibus unum opus est numeros celebrate Maro nis Plurimus in Nasonis honorem Aptum dicit amoribus alter singula singlî Me nec tam lasciva Propertî Cynthia Teia fides nec tam percussit avena Quam nostratis moesta poetae Quicquid habet Laurus Jovis arbor Populus Ilex Hac Cupressi fronde plicatur Hic gravis et brevis est operosus castus acutus Tales lectores facit Autor Ph. K. Mr in ar tâ— An Elegie ON THE RIGHT HONORAble Elizabeth Countesse of Shrewsbury wife to the right Honorable GEORGE Earle Shrewsbury Mother to the right Honorable William Earle oâ— Devon Sir Charles Cavendish who married Katherine Barronnesse Ogle Henry Cavendish who married the Lady Grace Talbot and Mary Countesse of Shrewsbury wife to the Lord Gilbert which Mary was Sole builder of the second Court of St. Iohns in the famous Vniversity of Cambridge Frances Lady Peirpoint This Countesse Elizabeth was Erectoresse of the two famous fabricks of Chatts-worth and Hard-wicke and sole foundresse of the famous Almes-house in Derby Grand-Mother To the right Honorable William last Earle of Devon VVilliam Earle of Newcastle Robert Earle of Kingstone Sir Charles Cavendish Countesse of Pembrooke The Countesse of Arundell Countesse of Kent Great Grand-mother to the right Honorable VVilliam Earle of Devon-shire The Lord Matreveâ—s Charles Lord viscount Mansfield Henry Viscount New warke Charles Cavendish Henry Cavendish Esquires WHile Scottish Angus up to heaven doth raise Her River Tay with inexpressable praise While Bamfe Louthan Fife and Devern sing And ould Legea braggs of her Dane King While Northern Tweede disjoyning them us Saith of her selfe slâ—ees most conspicuous Shall I our silver Thames Severn and d ee Trent Owze and Avon of one qualitie Forget nay to your praise I 'le bring My Alpine peakish Dove whose fertile wing Yeeldes Milke and Honey till her selfe shee trill Into swift running Darwent on the hill And lastly though a litle rivolet Tâ—out yeelding Crawley shall in measure jet You boast of stately Turrets births of high rate There in an equippage I 'le meete your state You bragge of stately fabricks guilded Towres Whose splendor both the eye and sense devoures My Muse shall meete you there too but her wing Must some sad Funerall notes and dirges sing This blest Eliza this bright Diamond Which long-time grew upon our peakish stronde Graceing the sertiâ—e quarries wa st not strange That Hills and Rocks their sterilnesse should change Yeelding a fruitfull eedenes as if shee
he That thus is guarded to Eternity He had three Wives of blessed memory Who certaine are in heavens rich treasury By two he issue had by th'ould one none They and their of-sp'ring all to blisse are gone In peace they liv'd in love and peace they di'de Enjoying honse-roome with the lambe and bride Dame Fretchvill Bowes and Bellis were their names Whose good deedes doe perpetuate their fames A fourth survives whose goodnes 'mongst the rest From all the foure winds stiles her selfe by West She ranck'd in honours file does claime due share From the ennobled house of Dela-ware Deathes Image sleepe hath stolne his soule away His body till the last Trumpe restes in clay On Sir GILBERT KNIVETON Knight and Baronnet VVHen first thy active person made resort Both to the English and the Danish Court No favorite then liv'd in more reguard Then noble Kniveton Or freer gave reward Vpon desert and merit The stately Court Where men of all degrees of garbe and port Extant to practise some for complement Yet runne at randome from the Element Some to make faces Curtifies and Congees As if they were disjoynted in their knees Some meerly study fashions some paynt At pleasure making of a divell a Saint And some more sacred wits purer and fine That studied nothing but what was divine For there 's of all trades like a Mart or Faite And thither all soâ—tes of people make repaire Retir'd from thence thy â—leasures tane away Thou practis d gratitude a neerer way Zeale to thy God which evermore shall prove A living Monument of lasting Love A hand like harvest alwayes free and open Affable in lookes curteously spoken In thy Converse the poorest swaine might be Allow'd all language open firme and free An eye and brow that never frownd but when Grosse appetites predominated men A tongue that wisely could with cares dispence To 'th people love allegeance to his Prince Not covetous of Honor Pompe or State As free from enmity as love from hate Wise in thy countrys cause yet now and then Subject to errours like to other men Yet those that knew how faire a treasury Of goodnesse in thy noble brest did ly What all refined sweetnes well might sweare Thy rarenes thee proclamd they Muses heire Thy noble off-spring still does droope and groane Like crazy buldings thou there pillar gone Bradley laments thy losse for there thy name Long time hath livd in King and countrys fame But vaine are stately fabricks narrow roomes Will serue to beare us and our rotten toombes On the Lady Greffith Wife to Henry Greffith Baronnet and daughter of Henry Willoughby Baronnet T Is not a sin thus to expostulate And aske the causes why untimely fate Crops the bladed corne before ' its eard Kills fruite i th blossome and Lillies new appeard But 't is great pity that these goodly creatures The braverys and raritys of natures Should be untimely by Times Sythe cut downe Before their perfitenes and worthes are knowne Vnto the world and thereby to deprive The earth and Nature of what worthes they give If this be sin and pity then pale Death I le dare thee to a combat which whiles breath Retaines this mansion till thy fatall dart Those ould companions soule and body part Shall ne'r be finished and I know till then Thy hatred cannot cease to mortall men Yet I defie thee knowing that here tody Is but a preface to eternity Here has thy malice showd it selfe to steale That sacred lampe of love and perfect zeale Honors perfection patterne of Piety Light unto Grace Goodnes Nobility Was there one riches which this world did foulde That in her litle world she did not hould Yet rave'nous Tyger thou did'st her annoy Before she tasted of an earthly joy Just in the early Spring-time of her age Thou sent'st her on her short liv'd pilgrimage Hence questionles she did on Cherubs fly To the great Palace of eternity Where 'mongst the Hierarchies she sings in partes Joyes inexpessible by men or artes But that 's no thanks to death for the best will Thou hast in doing well is doing ill And how can that be good since there 's a text Divinely contradicts it and has annext Curses unto it but I waste my breath The law has limits none must kill save Death Thy sting oh Death thy cruell sting I say Destroid this goodly parragon of May This lovely Juni'an Rose that did display Those Cretan spices sweeter nor the day Those sacred leaves of honour lampes of love Which made pale Envies selfe her selfe reprove Earth held no ricâ—es which she could not finde For she had cabin'd goodnes in her minde Yet lent it out still I not on usury But for th' encrease of goodnes treasury Vnsated Caniball I 'le raile on still Although I know th' art limited to kill Could not the Earth suffize thee there to roame But that thy meager paunch must build a tombe Robbing a consecrated Temple thereby To steale true goodnes sacrilegiously Nay to subvert posterities that 's a bane That will perpetually on thee remaine She the faire prop of foure faire goodly towres Is undermind and falne but God-like powres Have left one goodly branch which spite of thee May propagate and make posterity Vn-numberlesse so shall Willoughby In Willoughby beget new heraldraie And Knowles shall tell thy malice and I pray The G 〈…〉 ffin may of thee beget the day As questionlesse th'All-seer has assignde it And tâ—y posterity shall surely finde it Then shall the Bird of Pallas change her note And clutch the Hare out of the Greyhoundes throate And the gould Griffin which is foe to none Still shall innovate this noble union The Elephant with his vast truncke shall turne Those eys to laughter that in sorrowes mourne All shall consigne in one and with this Ave Caution each other adsum cave Thus great destroyer know that silly I Lesse feare thy malice then did feare to dy This noble Lady all have from nature breath And all are sure nought's certainer then death On WILLIAM FARRINGTON of Salterstord Esquire March the 14. 1633. WILLIAM FARRINGTON Anagramma Farwell I am gon Which Anagramizde by conversion even Farwell I am gon from Earth to Heaven VVHat Epithete more shall I give Then for to say thou still dost live The Reader saith how may that be Does that man live noe man can see I answer thus all die to live Therefore that Epithete I 'le give I neede not praise thee goodnes known Needs no Laudare's But her own I must lament thee 'cause the Earth Growes barren and yields no such birth Known griefes are dumbe and such are mine Thy joyes aboundantly doe shine I adde but coale to flaming fuell Death has stolne away my jewell I dare not wrastle 'gainst harsh fate Yet needes must waile thee though to late Thou wert no wrangling contester No covetous poore-molester No plodding polititian But plainly a right honest man Say more that list more will not I
carride even And questionles hee findes them now in heaven For upright justice is the path that bringes Man to the presence of the Kinge of Kinges He â—uilyes Motto every morne did scan None feedes on justice but the upright man He serv'd our Soveraigne James our lawrell Kinge â—â—ke him that did our Israellâ— gloryes sing He Knight-hood gave him for his Zeale Love Truth And dignifi'd him in his prime of youth Honors doe seldome come without desert For time makes vice or Vertue most apert Truth like a Columne does the one support Time Lawier-like does the other court His Love Zeale Goodnes Truth Piety Strong creditors with Soveraignity So pleas'd our glorious King Charles of same For to investe on him a servants name In his new fabrick in which mystery He ended life in great Tranquillity Which â—â—â—bury the house of Lanâ—aster And Iohn of Gauntes shall evermore everâ— Not coveting honour for the Agardes names But it perpetuating to their fames Muse thou art in a Lab'riuth ' an Maze His Vertues questionles thy spirits daze For thou hast lost thy supine major part Th' unbounded boundlesse goodnes of his heart There Vertue kept her seat Apolles line In his contention was not halfe so fine So true refined and so full of grace The Carde'nall Vertues there strove for a place Thrice happy he that liveing loveing dyes When Vertue strives for due preeminencies This Maxime to his age even from his youth He did prefer friendship goes still with truth Reguardlesse of a tâ—â—e friendes small offence True friendship aimes at perfect eminence Those Centryes where thou liv'dst doe blazon forth Thou liveing had'st their harts now dead thy worth Lives still with them that time cannot decay Till all dissolves and time sweepes all away Thou liv'dst in peace and so dide and like thee May all men goe to true Eternitie On the same IF Marble monuments tell to future daies Th'â—habiters good deedes glories honour praise Why should not thine say something since in thee Goodnes rests to perpe 〈…〉 e Thou had'st a schollers knowledge and best parts And liv'dst sole Mâ— of the liberall Arts Thy goodnes needs hoe testate for thy deedes Like a true Gard'ner rooted 〈◊〉 ill weedes Leaving the supple plantes Herbes and Flowers Befiting coronets of vertues bowres No tribulations ever shooke thy brest Patience did evermore support thy creste Resolvde on that ould Sâ—crates did sing Meekenes ' is the greatst Trophe of a King Where power wantes there Eâ—â—y son'st is knowne But where thine lay thy mercy was most showne Thy love charity liberality Were all express'd in true humility The just mans merits by his deudes are sound The bad mans are like waters cast on ground Thy life unspotted was thy end as cleare As Jupiters in his ascendant spheare The Romans when their famous Consulls dide Petitioned their Oracles to divide Their goodnes 'mongst their kindred so may thine By that meanes they will all be made divine Wert not a sin to wish we should desire Aectias Botles againe for to inspire Fresh life 't is said that they are stuff'd with breath But there 's no conqueror comes after death Ould Faussons joy farewell for there thy name Shall last as long as honour time or fame To thy dead Herse thy honourd friend this gives That love is firmest after death still lives On the pattern of modesty ELIZA TEVERY daughter of GERVASE TEVERY of Staplefoord Esquire VVHy did the Lilly Paunce and Violet weepe The Marigold ere Sun-set in did creepe At whose refiexion she us'd for to rise And at his way-gate to close up her eies Why were the beaten waies with flowers strovvne And set with needy Lazars hanging downe Their mournefull heades why did the Pulpit mourne At if prepared for some Funerall urne And yet the Temple was with garlands hung Of sweeâ— smelling Flowers which might belong Vnto some bridall not heaven knowes the cause T' was otherwise decreed in Natures Lawes Those smelling sweetes with which our sense was fed Were for the buriall of a maiden-head Which made an Antumne just in the mid-spring And all things contrary their birthes to bring Herbs Plants and Flowers contrariously grew Because they now receiv'd not natures devv The needy beggers hung their heads for thee Thou matchlesse Map of maiden modesty From whose faire handes they had an almners pay As often as they met thee every day The sacred Temple where thy holy fires Of incense was powr'd on in chast desires Was thus prepard and deek'd on every side To welcome thee as her sole soveraigne Bride Whose goodnes was inimitable whose vertues shone Like to the Sun in his bright Horizon The maiden vestalls that with watry eies Bore thee to 'th Church for Vesta's sacrifize Were all in white carracts of innocence Prefiguring thy greater eminence So great their losse that with watery eiene They offer teares still to thy Virgin shrine And if that teares sighes or praiâ—es could save thee What would not they expresse now to have thee Sacred divinity allowes of no such wish Therefore emparadie'd soule rest thou in blisse Thy neighbours-â—â—d a share in thy great fall But most thy parents in thy funerall Vnparallel'd piece farewell ther 's no Grace But was transparent in thy maiden face And when thy Virgin blushes did appeare They show'd like Phoebus in our hemâ—â—phere Or like the â—ofie blushes of the morne When he th' enameld Zodiacke does adorne Her tender yeeres were free from hatefull pride Nor were her lookes with red-look'd anger dy'd She had with Martha a most zealous hart But did with Mary choose the better part Her losse was piteous yet lesse to be wailde Since she on Cherubins high heaven scalde Where 'mongst the Hierarohies she sits and sings Sweet Hymenealls with the King of Kings On ould JOHN CVRS'EN of KEDLESTON Esquire IOHN CVRSON Anagramma So I runne on IOHN CVRSONE Anagramma Honour is sure Which Anagrammiâ—de thus 't is cleere and pure So hee ranne on His honour now is sure On the same THy childrens losse and countries praise Thou Crowne of age life and long daies In thee a happines still appeares That could'st tell o're so many yeeres Achilles in thy prime of youth Uâ—sses in thy sager grouth Lib rall yet fiugall foe to none Vertues choise companion Enrich'd with all her sacred partes The Muses friend and nurse of Artes. Earth use him gently for his fate Never livde at under-rate The VVorme scarse so much goodnes joy'd Since the great deluge earth annoy'd Gone is the hospitable cloake And where fire was thers now no smoke Then that in â—ll things did'st excell I wish mee with thee so farewell On that renowned and Hospitable Gentleman JOHN PALMER of Kegworth Esquire SMall briefes containe large matters and By some partes the whole we understand Rich Diamonds though set In lead Are not for worth lesse valued Their sparkleing beauties most are seene When night would hide them with a Skreene Though earth hath hid thee in her wombâ— Yet thy great worth lives in thy tombe Thy goodnes was unparalleld Thy charity by noâ—e excelld Thy bounty learning love and name Are Trophes of thy countries same They have more recordes of thee two For thou did'st that none ells did doe The poore man welcome had from thee Before the rich mans bravery He on thy bounteous Table fed And was with all things cherished Nay Palmer-like thou did'st assay To fetch them in from the high way And with thine owne sleece made and spun Cover the lame the blinde and dumbe The Lazar might not starveingly Thou coverdst his necessity The rich might not the poore oppresse The just mans cause thou didst redresse Thy house was made an hospitall And plenty cride ' y are welcome all The stranger might not thirsty passe For there was Tempors full brim'd glasse Prefiguring his thirsty soule Might be refresh'd but not made fowle As Zephyrs bottles such was his minde Sweet calme and free loveing and kinde Great pity Death did in a rage Send Palmer on a pilgrimage Nere to returne for in his losse He Kegworthes sorrow did engrosse And yet he left a merry one Whose worth 's inferiour to none A Patriot of true deserts A nursing father to all arts All men are Palmers Pilgrime meeke He compass'd earth high Heav'n to seeke The Saints receiv'd him into blisse The earth her Palmer still doth misse FINIS Imprimatur Exaedib Londin Sa. Baker Apr. 22. 1636. Hector Boctiuâ— and Aencaâ— Sylvius in their descriptioâ— of the Rivers of Scotland Tay said to bee the most noble River in Angus Iohannes Major Guiccardine 〈◊〉 Gildas in the Expul of the Danes A most pious Princely gift 100. per Annum and confirm'd by Charter The Lord Rich married the Lady Anne daughter of William Earle of Deton shire Not of him that was the Terror of France though all the rest were brothers of his Line A famous Chappell and the Tombe of his noble ancestours by him erected over her in the Parish Church of Wilne in Derby-shire Being his â—â—der brother To the Lady Bur 〈…〉 ut
Country still laments him and doth weepe Since he that was her eie is falne asleepe Staley retaines but his impurer part Heaven hath his soule his best part we in hart On the right Honorable HENRY Lord STANHOT of the North Knight of the Bath Son to the right Honorable PHILIP Earle of Chesterfield and KATHERIN his noble Countesse Anno. 1634. LIves there an eye of Honour did not weepe 'Cause thou so suddenly did'st fall a sleepe Oh yes even Vertues selfe did sadly mone 'Cause thou so suddenly to heaven was gone And yet this Crowne shee sets upon thy head Thy Vertues are alive though thou be dead Who ever knew thee did not waile thy fall Or wept not at thy solemne funerall Such hopes thy Country had such joyes the state And yet to see they both unfortunate Hopes had thy Country of a Patriot The state a Counsellour though new begot Borne Man even from his Cradle yet oh see How sudden vanishes maturitie Just like the Lilly fairest of the field Which does her bravery to th'sickle yield Or like the flower that opens with the Sunne And falls and dies before his course is runne Thus did this noble sprigge of honour fall Even from perfection to a Buriall And yet to say so were detraction Since he is gone hence to perfection For so much goodnes wisedome knowledge arts Such rare endowments and such sacred parts Such gravity as if experience had Invested him and in her robes him clad Such Activenes of body acute wit As if the Muses in his brest did sit And there kept court instructing him all rules And abstruse secrets of their holy schooles Nay what unto him did not they impart Urania had enshrind him in her hart And all these rarities to be complide In one not twenty one before he dide Great pity that a fabricke of this state Should crazy fall and subject be to fate But vaine are teares there 's litle to be sed For each of him is disinherited He had a brother who in 's prime of youth Allmost arriv'de unto his perfect grouth Pale death and time cut off whose most deere losse He did embrace with such a heavinesse That from his day of death unto his owne His Brothers dying day was ever knowne Entombd that day o th' weake in s chamber he Solemnely kept his brothers Obsequie There did his owne true worth his worth confine In meditations siting a Divine Rare presidents of Honor chiesly young What would his age have brought had he liv'd long But he is gâ—ne and with him went our teares For certainly he now needs not our prayers Yet such rare presidents ought not for to lye Entombd and buried in obscurity His joyes are full and now we may expresse More joy in him then cause of heavinesse He dies not that so dies but lives againe Immortally from anguish griefe or paine On CHARLES STANHOP first brother to the Lord HENERY and third Son to PHILIP Earle of Chesterfield KATHERIN his noble Countesse NO sooner are my Summer blessings come But streight comes Autumne and rough Hyems on Whose rugged browe proclaim 's sadde disasters Nights stormes tempests day-consuming wasters No sooner did our Sunne of comfort shine Nor bright Aurora with her silver shrine After tempestuous daies and dim-eide nights By their fresh beames and rarified lights But newly perfected in comes a storme Allmost as great as that but newly borne Eclipsing our fresh glories and in cares Makes us a fresh for to begin ould teares No sooner was our honourd HENRY gone And our late mourning weeds past putting on Our memory or backs I streightway does come The death of CHARLES that strikes all joyes dumbe Oh thou most sacred Jewell golden Time Thou pretious Jem of Jems thou all divine Thou fleeting shade unsubstantiall thing Thou that art nothing yet of all the King whoo 'd be lavish of thee this president Should make us chary how our Time is spent We may in thee behold how vaine is man In all his actions doe the best he can This goodly slower but yesterday new blowne By Times untimely sythe to day cut downe This goodly Garden in whom searse grew weedes This lovely full-eard corne that ne're lent seedes Fitting a seedenesse is tane from th' earth Before it had maturity or birth This lovely Pine-tree when his Aples shone With rosy cheekes like Phoebus in the Zone Is hewd and falne just in his Prime and growth Even in the early spring time of his youth But Death and Time are Twinns if one cryes on Thought is not swifter then the act is done Death thou art mercilesse and thy rigor such As makes us raile though it availe not much Me thinkes those paire of noblest brothers gone Those that of Vertue had Dominon Might have suffizd thy wrath or if not those Their Vertues might which did all worth enclose All worthes I say that might be thought or found In two so young there could not more abound Of if not those their Mothers showers of tears Which fell like raine sent from the weeping Sphears Who wept in pity too or if not these The new chang'd Virgins prayers might appease No sooner were they ty'd in wed-lockes bandes But thy inveteracies untwines their handes No sooner were those lovely Turtles pairde Scarse of those rites and ordinations sharde Which God for man decreed I streight way thy Ire Sweepes all before thee like Promethean fire Virgins will curse thee ever and forbeare The sacred Jugall wedding Ring to weare And so empoverish nature of her wealth Because thou rak'st up all her joyes by stealth But these cou'd not suffize thee he alone Was the Idea 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 thou doatedst on His brothers like the two great Lampes of light That guilde the heavenly Orbes by day and night So grac'd thy Trophes wonne thee such renowne Without this third thou couldst not winne the Crowne But thou dealtst poorely to insinuate Enseebleing him I nay with the selfe-same fate And cause of sicknes which our Barons killd Killd him high providence must be fullfilld No strugling 'gainst the streame no stopping tide Birthes of this nature mortalls cannot hide The end of our creation was to die Death being the fine of all mortalitie Then cease to waile his losse his soule 's a Jeâ— Fixde in the Sun-raiâ—s like a Diadem Thrice honoured Lady count not that a losse Which even the Angels cover to engrosse With Davids sorrow mourne him while alive But dead doe not against your knowledge strive The losse of friends more sorrowes doe not get If rightly understood then benefit We sorrow for them when we thinke of Earth But when of Heaven and that most sacred birth We doe rejoyce and their joyes emulate Till we in happinesse possesse like state You have more sonnes and many more may have Leave mourning these then Earth is mankinds Grave On ROBERT POVVTRELL of Westhallam Esquire IF love to knowledge or good partes The Muses friend and true deserts A man enshrind in