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A14019 Epitaphes, epigrams, songs and sonets with a discourse of the friendly affections of Tymetes to Pyndara his ladie. Newly corrected with additions, and set out by George Turbervile Gentleman. Turberville, George, 1540?-1610? 1567 (1567) STC 24326; ESTC S111456 102,071 323

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quight Wherefore affie in neither trull nor tree For I perceiue that colours lightly chaunge And Ladies loue on sodaine waxeth straunge ¶ An Epitaph of Maister Edwards sometime Maister of the Children of the Chappell and Gentleman of Lyncolns Inne of Court YE Learned Muses nine and sacred Sisters all Now lay your chéerefull Cithrons downe and to lamenting fall Rent off those Garlands gréene doe Lawrell Leaues away Remooue the Myrtell from your browes and stint on strings to play For he that led the daunce the chiefest of your traine I meane the man that Edwards height by cruell death is slaine Yée Courtyers chaunge your chéere lament in wailefull wise For now your Orpheus hath resignde in clay his Carcas lyes O ruth he is bereft that whilst he liued héere For Poets Pen and passing Wit could haue no English Péere His vaine in Verse was such so stately eke his stile His feate in forging sugred Songs with cleane and curious file As all the learned Greekes and Romaines would repine If they did liue againe to vewe his Verse with scornefull eine From Plautus he the Palme and learned Terence wan His writings well declarde the Wit that lurcked in the man O Death thou stoodste in dread that Edwards by his Art And Wisedome would haue scapte thy shaft and fled thy furious Dart. This feare enforste thy fist thy cursed Bow to bende And let the fatall Arrow flie that Edwards life did ende But spite of all thy spite when all thy hate is tride Thou cursed Death his earned praise in Mouth of Man shall bide Wherefore O Fame I say to trumpe thy lips applie And blow a blast that Edwards brute may pierce the golden Skie For here bylow in earth his name is so well knowne As eche that knew his life laments that hée so soone is gone ¶ An Epitaph on the death of Maister Arthur Brooke drownde in passing to New Hauen AT point to ende and finishe this my Booke Came good report to mée and wild me write A dolefull Verse in praise of Authur Brooke That age to come lament his fortune might Agréede quoth I for sure his Vertues were As many as his yeares in number few The Muses him in learned laps did beare And Pallas Dug this daintie Bab did chew Apollo lent him Lute for solace sake To sound his Verse by touch of stately string And of the neuer fading Baye did make A Lawrell Crowne about his browes to cling In proufe that he for Myter did excell As may be iudge by Iulyet and hir Mate For there he shewde his cunning passing well When he the Tale to English did translate But what as he to forraine Realme was bownd With others moe his soueraigne Quéene to serue Amid the Seas vnluckie youth was drownd More spéedie death than such one did deserue Aye mée that time thou crooked Delphin where Wast thou Aryons help and onely stay That safely him from Sea to shore didst beare when Brooke was drownd why wast y u thē away If sound of Harp thine eare delighted so And causer was that he best●id thy back Then doubtlesse y u moughst wel on Brooke bestow As good a turne to saue him from the wrack For sure his hande Aryons Harp exceld His pleasant Pen did passe the others skill Who so his Booke with iudging eie beheld Gaue thanks to him and praisde his learned quill Thou cruel Goulf what meanst thou to deuowre With supping Seas a Iewell of such fame Why didst thou so with water marre the Flowre That Pallas thought so curiously to frame Vnhappie was the Hauen which he sought Cruell the Seas whereon his Ship did glide The winds to rough that Brooke to ruin brought Vnskilfull he that vndertooke to glide But sithens teares can not reuoke the ded Nor cries recall a drowned man to lande Let this suffice textall the life he led And print his prayse in house of Fame to stande That they that after vs shall bée and liue Deserued praise to Arthur Brooke may giue ꝙ G. T. Of the renowmed Lady Lady Anne Countesse Warwick AN Earle was your Sire a worthie Wight A Cowntesse gaue you Tet a Noble Dame An Earle is your Féere a Mars outright A Cowntesse eke your selfe of bruted fame ▪ A Brother Lorde your Father Earles Sonne Thus doth your line in Lordes and Earles ronne You were well knowne of Russels race a childe Of Bedfords blood that now doth liue an Earle Now Warwicks wife a warlike man in fielde A Venus Péere a ritch and Orient Pearle Wherefore to you that Sister Childe and Wife To Lorde and Earles are I wish long life You Alpha were when I this Booke begoonne And formost as became your state did stande To be Omega now you will not shoonne O Noble Dame I trust but take with hande This ragged rime and with a courteous looke And Cowntesse eie pervse this tryfling Booke The Authours Epiloge to his Booke THe countnance of this Noble Cowntesse marck When she thy Verse with eie that Saphire like Doth shine suruayes let be thy onely carck To note hir Lookes and if she ought mislike Say that thou shouldst haue hid it from hir sight Thy Authour made the best for hir delight The woorst he willde in couert scrole to lurke Vntill the Beare were ouerlickt afresh For why in déepe this hastie hatched wurke Resembleth much the shapelesse lumpe of flesh That Beares bring forth So when I lick thée ouer Thou shalt I trust thy perfite shape recouer FINIS Imprinted at London by Henry Denham dwelling in Paternoster Rovve at the signe of the Starre OS HOMINI SVBLIME DEDIT Anno Domini 1567. Cum Priuilegio Discomodities of Loue. Quest Auns Quest Ques● Auns Ques● Auns Ques● Ques● Auns Quest Auns