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truth_n church_n holy_a word_n 6,560 5 4.2187 3 true
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A05387 Queene Elizabeths teares: or, Her resolute bearing the Christian crosse inflicted on her by the persecuting hands of Steuen Gardner Bishop of Winchester, in the bloodie time of Queene Marie. Written by Christopher Leuer. Lever, Christopher, fl. 1627. 1607 (1607) STC 15540; ESTC S109416 21,498 58

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reacht my meditation hie And versd the holy suffrings of my Lord Still doe I mooue in that emperiall Skie Where Saints and holy Angels do afford Subiect that may diuinest wit accord I glory then that to my Verse is giuen This care to fet their holy cause from heauen Among the number of those holy Saints A happy Lady where all happies are Whose name Report in euery place acquaints Who like the beauty of the fairest Starre In beauteous name exceedes all other farre And but we doe except the Virgin-mother We reach her praise as high as any other Thus I conceiue her Image in my thought Clad in the Virgin ornament of white Within that white her innocence was wrought Vnspotted with the touch of vaine delight Her habite is all day and nothing night And in that white as my remembrance saith Was writ this motte Defendor of the Faith Her presence could expresse what she had beene Humble yet full of princely maiestie A constant Martire yet a royall Queene Before her state went much aduersitie In all proportions Iudgement might descry What holy motions mooued in her hart For holy signes of prayer did mooue each part Vpon her head a Coronet of golde To intimate her eminence of place But in her royall presence I beholde The Image both of Maiestie and Grace The heart of State was grauen in her face Let him in iudgement be reputed blinde That in the face sees nothing of the minde Within one hand she held an armed blade Whereon was writ her many victories The other with much reuerence she laide Vpon the Booke of heauenly mysteries As if that God in wisedome did deuise To giue this Ladie that victorious Sword To garde the passage of his holy word Before her feete a Globe of earth was cast Scepters and Crownes and markes of high estate Yea Kings themselues and Potentates were plac't In humble ranke before this Magistrate Their fortunes on her victories did waite For when that she would fauour or cast downe The bad had warre the better had the Crowne These Trophies doe erect eternall name That euer liues in honour of this Queene That giue occasion vnto busie Fame To make report what her deserts haue beene My selfe that haue these admirations seene In humble verse her suffrings doe relate That dare not meddle with her time of State This cogitation of this Princely one Is often entertained in my minde Waking or not I oft reuise thereon And often in my thoughts this Queene I finde And oft her glad remembrance hath inclinde To heart my verse that writ the holie Passion Of her religious Teares to make relation O thou that dost inspire with holie flame The moouing spirits of deepe Poesie Giue me to adde some honour to her name That wants her due of holy memorie For Time will rot our best mortallitie And sith that she all vertuous ones did cherish It pittie were her vertuous name should perish O let my verse mooue indignation And stirre the blood of better abled wit Enuie or shame of this relation May hap beget the meanes to better it How ere my shame it doth my liking fit By anie meanes to adde vnto her praise Our loue is in our heart not in our phrase ¶ When holy Edwards Spirit did expire Borne on the wings of Angells into blisse The earth grew cold and wanted holy fire When this diuine defendor parted is Blacke Night did then succeed this Day of his For then the glory of the day is done When interposed earth bedims the Sunne O the exceeding wisedome in the heauen Whose prouidence protecteth euery care To seely men the licence is not giuen To see forbidden secrets what they are In vaine vpon the face of heauen men stare To know the hidden cause of that effect Which in Gods secret will is hidden kept Tell me thou wisest in iuditious Arte Or if thou canst not tell I silence thee Why God remou'd this holy King apart And left his Church to open tyrannie You reade not in the Starres this secrecie He that all futures can discerne afarre Within his breast these secrets hidden are Now Time had set this glorious Sonne of grace To darkenesse he his Empire did resigne Darkenesse that long had ouerspread the face Of holy truth and vertuous discipline No light apparant where no light may shine And but the fires of Martires that gaue light All had beene blacke and in eternall night You that haue nothing holy but your name That did incence this Marie vnto blood Be it to you your euerlasting shame So to corrupt her nature that was good O had she had the spirite to withstoode You that did hearten her to her disgrace She had deseru'd preheminence of place To saue a world of sinners you pretend But you intend another by pretence Religious duties often you commend Yet interdict you our obedience You bid speake truth but in a double sence How can your teaching many spirits saue When words and works such contradictions haue These Instigators fill her hands with blood In all respects saue this a vertuous Queene What they made vitious would haue prooued good Had not their powrefull prouocations beene Vpon her name this blood had not bin seene And men of holy place be sure of this Where you touch blood the marke apparant is This Ladie in the number of the rest Indur'd the storme of persecution Highest in griefe and in her name the best And with the best maintain'd her resolution She like the Lamb prepar'd for execution Doth still exspect by loosing of her breath To giue her holy cause a holy death And reason had she of this iust suspect So strange was alteration in the State Within her Sisters face she found neglect And friends doe euer faile th' vnfortunate The present state men onelie estimate For as the wind transports the flying Aire So as times alter men stil fliers are Her house in Edwards time a little Court Full of the fawning seruice of the knee But Marie now cuttes off this full resort And men fall backe in their Apostasie The Cuckooes sing not where colde winters be And Time this Lady of her port bereaues As winter frosts nip off the falling leaues These were the first beginnings of her care Which like the heads of little rising springs Runne to a larger bignesse than they were So Time that fauours not this Ladie brings Still fresh supplie vnto her sufferings Like flouds that with their swelling tides are fed Till falling Seas doe make their waters ebbe Here might she spend her holie meditation As sure she did much holier than I write She alters not with Fortunes alteration Resolue had made her sufferings her delight Her holie cause did giue her holie might To beare the indignation of their spleene That made her Sister her offended Queene ¶ O thou eternall Spirite thus she faies Without whose pleasure nothing hath euent Before we be thou numbrest all our daies And preordainest euerie accident To