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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A54795 Sportive vvit the muses merriment, a new spring of lusty drollery, joviall fancies, and a la mode lamponnes, on some heroic persons of these late times, never before exposed to the publick view / collected for the publick good by a club of sparkling wits, viz. C.J., B.J., L.M., W.T., cum multis alsis---- Phillips, John, 1631-1706. 1656 (1656) Wing P2113; ESTC R36677 62,402 221

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Suffolk's Dutchess Two children of Edward the third Here lye in Death's cold clutches This is King Edward the third's brother Of whom our Records tell Nothing of note nor say they whether He be in heaven or hell This same is Iohn of Eldeston And he was Earl of Cornwall This is the Lady Phillis Mohun No doubt but she made horns well At first she was Dutchess of York And then the Wife also Of Edward Duke of York and this Two hundred and thirty years ago The Lady Anne Rosse but note ye well That she in Childbed dy'd The Lady Marquess of Winchester Lyes buried by her side Now think your penny will spent good folks And that you are not beguil'd Within this cup doth lye the heart Of a French Embassador's childe Nor can I tell how it came to passe On purpose or by chance The bowels they lye underneath The body is in France The Countess of Oxford her mother The good old Lady Bourleigh And that 's her daughter another Countesse Asunder these not far lye These once were bonny Dames and though There were no coaches then Yet they their breeches jogg'd themselves Or had them jogg'd by men But wo is me those high-born sinners That wont to work so stoutly Are now laid low and 'cause they cann't Their Statues pray devoutly This is the Dutchess of Somerset The Lady Anne by name Wife to the Duke of Somerset Duke Edward of great fame She liv'd in Edward the sixt's time So long ago 't was since How long ago was that I pray Her Husband protected the Prince And underneath this stone doth lye Sir Robert Cecils L●dy low Mother to th' Earl of Salisbury And then cry'd one It may be so In this fair Monum●nt which you see Adorn'd with so many pillars Doth lye the Countess of Buckingham And her Husband Sir George Villers To the late Duke of Buckingham We nere spake of his Brother This old Sir George was Grandfather And the Countess his Grandmother Sir Robert Eatam a Scotch Knight And he was Secretary To both of our late Queens so great Queen Anne and then Queen Mary This was the Countess of Lenox Iclep'd the Lady Marget She was King Iames's Grandmother Which Death I doubt did forget This was Queen Mary Queen of Scots By more then her husband bedded King Iames's Grandmother at the Castle Of Fothringham beheaded The Mother of Henry the seventh This is that lyeth hard by She was the Countess know ye well Of Richmond and Darby Henry the seventh here doth lye VVith his fair Queen beside him He was the Founder of this Chappel Oh may no ill betide him Therefore his Monument 's in bras● The cost was nere the lesse The Duke of Richmond and Lenox Lies there with his Dutchess And here they stand upright in a presse With bodies made of wax With a globe and a wand in either hand And their robes upon their backs General Ireton and his Lady Are here the spoyles of Death And also two of his children This must be said in a breath Here lyes the Duke of Buckingham And the Dutches his wife Whom Felton stabb'd at Portsmouth town And so he lost his life Two children of King Iames these are Nor do our Records vary Sophia in the cradle lies And this is the Lady Mary And this is Queen Elizabeth How the Spaniards did infest her Her Body 's here bury'd with Queen Mary And now she agrees with her Sister Old Devereux Earle of Essex Stands there with his Buff coat The Parliaments first Generall And very stoutly he fought To another Chappel now come we Tho people follow and chat This is the Lady Cottington And the people cry WHO 's THAT This is the Lady Francis Sidney The Countess of Sussex is she And this the Lord Dudley Carleton is And then they look up and see Sir Thomas Bromley lyeth here And eight of his children Four daughters and four sons also Both women grown and men The next is Sir Iohn Fullerton And this is his Lady I trow And this is Sir Iohn Puckering With his fine Bed-fellow That in the middle is th' Earl of Bridgewater Who makes no use of his bladder Although his Countesse lye so nere him And so we go up a ladder King Edward the first a gallant blade Lies under-neath this Stone And this is the chair which ●e did bring A good while ago from Scone In this same Chair till now of late Our Kings and Queens were crown'd Vnder this Chair another stone Doth lye upon the ground On that same stone did Iacob sleep Instead of a Down pillow And after that 't was hither brought By some good honest fellow King Richard the second he lyes here And his first Queen Queen Anne Edward the third lyes here hard by Oh he was a gallant man For this was his two-handed Sword A blade both true and trusty With which he conquer'd France cries one Good Sir 't is very rusty Feel but the weight on 't in your hand Who now with this can fight And then the petticoats and wastcoats Do wonder at his might Here a lyes again with 's Queen Queen Philip A Dutch woman by Record But that 's all one for now alas His P-'s not so long as his Sword King Edward the Confessor lyes Within this Monument fine This Monument was made before William the Conqueror's time There lyes Harry the fifth and there Doth lye Queen Elenor She was Edward the first's wife Which is more than ye knew before Henry the third here lyes ●n●omb'd He was Herb John in Pottage Little he did but still reigned on Although his sons were at ag● Fifty six yeares he reigned King Ere he the Crown would lay by Onely we praise him 'cause he was Last builder of the Abbey There 's General Popham and his Lady A very fine device a If more ye ask concerning him The D. a jot can I say Here Thomas Cecil lyes who 's that Why 't is the Earle of Exeter And this his Countesse is Good Lady To die how it perplexed her Here Henry Cary Lord Hunsdon rests Though a makes a noyse with his name This man was Chamberlain unto Queen Elizabeth of great fame And here one William Colchester Lyes of a certainty An Abbot he was of Westminster And he that sayes no doth lye This is the Bishop of Durham Much bigger then a Fairie Henry the seventh lov'd him well And made him his Secretary Sir Thomas Ruthal what of him Poor Gentleman not a word Onely they bury'd him here but now Behold that man with a sword Humphrey de Bohun who though he were Norborn with me in the same town Yet I can tell he was Earl of Essex Of Hereford and Northampton He was High Constable of England As History well expresses But now pretty maids be of good cheere We 're going up to the Presses And now the Presses open stand And ye see them all a row But more