the Councell-Table He knew unlesse a bright Retinue come Of Vertues too Man 's but a glorious Tombe Carv'd ore with names of Honour which may win The eyes applause but is but Stench within Did you but read his Will you 'd think that He Had been a Reverend Bishop Lords there be That falling in their youth bequeath alone Their Bodyes to our Churches not a Stone Vnlesse for their Gwn Tombe t was His high care They should his Lands as well as Carcasse share As if he meant each place his Heire should be He blest the Prisons with his Charity Iayles are now Hospitalls to some 't will be Not to be bayld or freed a courtesy His Guifts will still the New-gate Cries we shall Heare the cag'd Birds hereafter sing not ball Much doe we owe to him besides that Plate Which is when full of fragments full of State The Knife and Voider's such that to a Guest Taking away is as a second feast But the Example of his Life will be To after times the richest Legacy R. WEST of Ch. Ch. To the Lady BAYNING PArdon our Bold Teares Madam that we doe Presume to joyn our selves Mourners with You. Grief is no Herald there 's no Rule in Moanes We never stand on Titles in our Groanes Manners and Complement we prize the lesse Where a Confus'd sad Griefe is the best dresse Yet we doe hope You will no Censure make And Teares swoln up with Grief for Pride mistake Nor call our sighs to th' Court of Honor wee Doe not lament for the Brave Company Where our own losse prompts us you need not fear Rivals in plaints as Iealous of each Teare We all enjoy'd so much of Him we dare Allow You but a Part and Common share His Goodnes was so much diffus'd we doe Think we might love him without wrong to You. May we not think him now but cross'd the Seas And count His Death 'mong other Voyages Sure as no Land he here did travell o're But what in 's Study He had pass'd before And first knew France and Spaine in England ere He was a Witnesse of their Actions there So was his pure Refined soule we know So well acquainted with the place it now More fully dwells in 't may be truly said He had been much in Heavn'n ere he was Dead But this doth only cheat our Grief the maine Comfort 's our Hope to see him here againe In that brave off-spring which your Blood yet keeps Alive in memory of Him that sleeps Which when you shall give Birth to He being gone We all will count his Resurrection ROB. MEADE Ch. Ch. On the Death of the Lord Viscount BAYNING VVHen Titles fall and Death ambitious how To raise his Triumph makes some great one bow Not Cadmus teeth could halfe so soon infuse A soule as can Their dust inspire a Muse Whiles death enlivens death and most wits have Their Resurrection from anothers Grave Nor were the wonder strange thus to behold Our Ice inflam'd our Heat spring out of Cold Did all like BAYNING dye did every Lord More griefe for Vertue lost then State afford How might bad verses be excus'd when we Found all writ truth no other Poetry When height of Fancy left Expression weak Not able to Begin much lesse to Speak And tell to th' full that hence what 's e're cald verse Will be but Tribute due to this Mans hearse Such was thy worth whose dawning prov'd that Light Which aged beams send forth to Thine true night Whose Pastime spent in Oxford for what more Is it for Noble-men to turne Books ore Prov'd Serious Play True Honour does know how To Rise to Vertue not make Vertue Bow This Gaind Him Reverence Young Receiving He Gave to th' University a degree Thus Blossom'd in his Bud thus early wise Grown now the Ioy not Envy of mens eyes Travell's His Choice not Refuge unlike those Who what they want at Home Abroad disclose Passing this Country to shun that thus round Spend all their Own to out-run Forrein ground Lustre went with Him and whiles He did passe That place was thought worth seeing where He was Rome entertain'd Him which you then might call The worlds Head justly when the Cardinall Enrich'd by 's Presents found his Honour more By what He added to his Princely store Thus big with forreine Praises Hee 's come home But all was only here to find a Tombe Where we must let him rest thus good thus young For too much grief would doe His Vertues wrong Whose Morn though clowded see 's His hastned years Extended to their full in his Friends Tears H. GRESLEY of Ch. Ch. On the Death of the Lord BAYNING 'T Is not ambition drawes my juycelesse pen Thus to distill a Poëm ' mongst such Men Or rather Gods of Poetry 't is Pride To come behind Duty to be descri'd I' th' list of Them besides I think 't not fit To raise a fire where floods of teares should meet And Poëtry's a fire but my Muse feares A kindling from this urne lest drown'd with teares It quickly turne to ashes and there be Not a spark left to weepe an elegie Yet this Great BAYNING'S dead That 's all I have Or can speak Silence best becomes the Grave Yet this againe Whilst with us here He striv'd To outdoe Goodnesse Bounty All He liv'd His Character who in his carriage than Shew'd of himselfe that which no Poët can Who with his rarest art and choycest quill Must serve here only to expresse him ill He was so pure so spotlesse so refind I took Him for some Angell Soule or Mind And think it no hyperbole to call As others From To heav'n this Angel's Fall I dare not write an Epitaph for feare The Vrne devoure my Verse being so neare Yet thus much to their Honours at the Court Two losses being knowne I dare report And 't is no treason these great names being read Herbert and Bayning That all Vertues dead T. D. of Ch. Ch. Vpon the Death of the Lord BAYNING MOst sacred hearse let it no sin appeare If I upon thy Vrne doe weepe one teare I must vent out my sighes it cannot be A losse to us to th' Vniversitie Nay the whole Nation too should slightly passe With this memoriall only that He was Whilst vertue shall be talk't of till we shall See nought that 's good thy memory cannot fall If e're we shall of some Vtopian heare That never knew rash boldnesse or cold feare No riot no injustice no excesse Nor want but all things in just perfectnesse Actions so rul'd by prudence and so all As if his Vertues too were Naturall Then we shall think on BAYNING sweare that Hee That wrote it meant it for His History Proper to Him Whose Life was such we can Scarce Iudge by which He greater Glory wan His Actions or His Studies what the Sage Appropriate to the Wrinckle and Old Age Knowledge He compast in His Smoother Dayes And did Greene Passions up to Wisdome raise
Learning He thought no Burden or to know In Theoricke Vertues which He meant to show Nor took 't a Blemish to Nobility To have a Schollar's merited Degree Esteem'd it not sufficient to heare Compleate at home and move but in one Spheare This Nation 's too Contract He does goe o're Laden with Vertues to a Forreigne Shoare Not to exchange for Vice or leave behind To them the qualities of His Vertuous Mind As if He could no Traveller appeare If He return'd the same man He was here But He addes to it all the good France can Call Proper Hers all the Italian Which without Stay so easily He cou'd As if He were by Inspiration good To them He seem'd a Native they would sweate He never was in any part but there He was so perfect without travell we In Him both Kingdomes Vertue here did see Thus fully furnish't with all nature's dowre With Art Experience and Uertue's Power We saw him flourishing but nature here Begins her bounty quite exhaust to feare And being of her lavish store now dry She cuts Him downe full in Felicity Thus the best Fruits just ripe are crop't although Without corruption they might longer grow But let this serve to stop our flowing teares That he dy'd Full Age is not Numerous yeares Nor are they only Old that longest live Perfection and Uertue Fulnesse give THO. ISHAM of Ch. Ch. Vpon the Death of the Lord Viscount BAYNING TO weep one Great and Good t' adorn his Hearse Whose Life was above Chronicle or Verse Requireth those whose fancies could create A subject like to Him as Good and Great These Lines alas they are not meant to give Life to that Name by which themselves must live That Name Which doth employ each tongue each Quill To sing His Praises write his Chronicle BAYNING Whose very sound perfumes the Ayre Commands a Reverence and a listning eare Books were a Guide t' his Youth and Company He thought of them with greater Charity Then those who think them fit to entertaine Only the houres of a hot Sun or Raine When He perus'd great Acts of History His large thoughts did suggest them Prophecy And Types of Him when He the Uertues read And saw himselfe transcrib'd and copied He with a modesty admir'd to find Men so familiar with His Thoughts and Mind Season'd and ballasted with these He then Leaving our Athens went to studie Men. Not like to those who travell to bring home A Fashion or to say they have seene Rome But to observe each State and Policy T' enrich his Mind more then Geography And now returned home when he begun To practise here each Observation While we behold Europes Epitome Of Men in Him of States in 's Family While Charles expects his aid the Realme no lesse Death stops his Glory and our Happinesse But Good Men have liv'd long when e're Fates come Their Age by Vertues not by Yeares we summe SAM IACKSON of Ch. C Vpon the Death of the honourable Lord Viscount BAYNING GReat Lord of Ghosts we sigh not out Thy Fall As only Thine But th' Muses Funerall We weepe our Colledge second Ruines and May Question chiefly Death's erroneous Hand That yet we boast Intents alone an Heape And Breaches only not entitled cheape That Those who entring Srangers here would look Doe Passe ours as a Colledge but mistooke Yet Orphan-like w' are not bereft of All The same that waile share too Thy hastned Fall Thy Piles bequeath'd yet which shall firme and safe With Wolseys stand thy larger Epitaph But we not misse His Gifts alone nor weepe Mercy and Bounty only fallen asleepe We boast no Scutchions nor admire Thy Blood Great Soule but best descent by Learning Good Though Noble mourning not the Losse of Thee As of a man but Vniversitie Who grac'd our Schooles with a Degree All Parts Arriv'd A Breathing System of the Arts. Not like our Silken Heires who only bound Their knowledge in the Sphear of Hauke or Hound And there confin'd limit their scant disourse Know more the Vaulting then the Muses Horse Who if They rescue Time from Cards or Dice To Lance or Sharpes or some such manly Prize Advance Their Lineage raise Their Stock if They But more severely loose the Precious Day He could unriddle each Schoole-knot untie All but Death's sad contrived Fallacie For th' Stroke was Project Here no Siege no Art Of lingring Death or Preface to His Dart No tedious knotty Gout or feverish Drought But all as Soft and Peacefull as His Youth He only slept in Hast as if to Die Had no Departure been but Extasie So gliding we descry a starry Ball Which fâ—om it 's Sphear doth rather Shoot then Fal. Yet Thy short Thread wee 'le not revile nor vexe ' Cause Th' art not imag'd in the Nobler Sexe For such Transcriptions wee 'le not anxious be Where we discover full Maturitie Ripened for Death Thou art Deceas'd not Kill'd Nor is Thy great Name Perish'd but Fulfill'd For what can adde unto the justest Height Who Hopes encrease to Glorie 's perfect Weight To Him that had survei'd all Forreigne parts Extracting not Their Vices but Their Arts Th' Italian Brain not Heate was skil'd from Rheine In Their exactest Manners not Their Vine Their Deepest Mysteries did only reach And Had more Languages then others teach All Worth His Eye He view'd that such a Fall Might share a sorrow Epidemicall FRAN. POWELL of Ch. Ch. Vpon the Death of the Lord Viscount BAYNING DEath's Chambers are enrich't and we may say He did not Kill but Stole This Prize away For th'now pale Mansion where his Soule abode Does make the Coffin precious by it's Load Yet that was but His Drosse search you will find Him at Fifteene a Sophy 's Nonage Mind Made the Schooles boast Him Graduate and 's Wit Writ Him th' reviv'd refined Stagerite And lest the Sophisters might erre in this Granted Platonicke Metempseuchosis And did conclude Maugre their Brains and Books Arts doe not alwaies lie in ill-fac'd looks And th'totred Gowne no longer now should be Held for an Embleme of Philosophy He did adorne the Scarlet which he wore And made them Robes which were but Cloth before Titles were truths in him Young Fair Rich Learn'd No complements but Purchase truly earn'd No Would-be-Wits maintain'd Hee at His Board Nought was in him suspitious but The Lord Yet no Braines cloth'd or Phancy fed Him Hee Rich in Estate as Ingenuitie And might have without doubt of missing it Petition'd for th' Monopoly of Wit To this vast masse of Wealth He had assign'd As ample thoughts no narrow griping Mind Mansions by Industry compos'd not Hands He fed on and devour'd His Books not Lands To whose large Guifts we of this place must owe Since that He thought His Owne He did bestow Thy Volumes nam'd Our Library and We As well for Stones as Bookes indebted be For though no Founder of the place yet must We say thou rays'dst our Buildings out o' th' Dust Thou
DEATH REPEAL'D BY A THANKFVLL MEMORIALL Sent from CHRIST-CHURCH in OXFORD CELEBRATING THE NOBLE DESERTS OF the Right Honourable PAVLE Late Lord VIS-COUNT BAYNING of SUDBURY Who changed his Earthly Honours Iune the 11. 1638. OXFORD Printed by Leonard Lichfield Printer to the Vniversity for Francis Bowman M. D.C.XXXVIII TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE THE LADY PENELOPE DOWAGER of the late VIS-COVNT BAYNING GREAT Lady Humble partners of like griefe In bringing Comfort may deserve beliefe Because they Feele and Feyne not Thus we say Vnto Our selves Lord Bayning though away Js still of Christ-Church somewhat out of sight As when he travel'd or did bid good night And was not seen long after now he stands Remov'd in Worlds as heretofore in Lands But is not Lost The spight of Death can never Divide the Christian though the Man it sever The like we say to You He 's still at home Though out of reach as in some upper roome Or study for His Place is very high His Thought is Vision now most properly Return'd he 's Yours as sure as e're hath been The Iewell in Your Cask safe though unseen You know that Friends have Eares as well as Eyes We Heare Hee 's well and Living that Well dies ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE THE LORD VISCOVNT BAYNING THough after Death Thanks lessen into Praise And Worthies be not crown'd with gold but bayes Shall we not thank To praise Thee all agree We Debtors must out doe it heartily Deserv'd Nobility of True Descent Though not so Old in Thee grew Ancient We number not the Tree of Branched Birth But Genealogie of Vertue spreading forth To many births in value Piety True Valour Bounty Meeknesse Modesty These noble off-springs swell Thy Name as much As Richards Edwards three foure twenty such For in thy Person 's linage surnam'd are The great the good the wise the just the faire One of these stiles innobles a whole stemme If all be found in One what race like Him Long stayres of birth unlesse they likewise grow To higher vertue must descend more low Whē water comes through numerous veins of lead 'T is water still Thy blood from One pipes head Grew Aqua-vitae streight with spirits fill'd As not traduc'd but rais'd sublim'd distill'd Nobility farre spread I may behold Like the expanded skie or dissolv'd gold Much rarified I see 't contracted here Into a starre the strength of all the spheare Extracted like th' Exlixir from the Mine And highten'd so that 't is too soone divine Divinity continues not beneath Alas nor He But though He passe by death He that for many liv'd gaines many lives After hee 's dead Each friend and servant strives To give him breath in praise this Hospital That Prison Colledge Church must needs recall To mind their Patron whose rich legacies In forreigne lands and under other skies To them assign'd shew that his heart did even In France love England as in England Heaven Heav'n well perceiv'd this double pious love Both to his Country here and that above Therefore the day that saw Him landed here Hath seen him landed in his Haven there The selfe-same day but two yeares interpos'd Saw Sun and Him round shining twice and clos'd No Citizen so covetous could be Of getting wealth as of bestowing He His Body and Estate went as they came Stript of Appendix Both and left the same But in th' Originall Necessity Devested one the other Charity It cost him more to cloth his soule in death Then e're to cloth his flesh for short-liv'd breath And whereas Lawes exact from Niggards dead A Portion for the Poore they now are said To moderate His bounty never such Was knowne but once that men should give too much A Tabernacle then was built and now The like in heav'n is purchas'd Learn you how Partly by building Men and partly by Erecting walls by new-found Chymistry Turning of Gold to Stones Our Christ-Church Pile Great Henrie's monument shall grow a while With Bayning's Treasure who away hath took Like those at Westminster to fill a nook ' Mongst beds of Kings Thus speak speak while we may For Stones will speak when We are hush'd in Clay W. STRODE D.D. Canon of Ch. ◠In obitum Illustrissimi Vicecomitis BAYNING QVid voveat dulci nutricula majus Alumno Quam bona Fortunae Corporis atque Animi En haec Heroe hoc simul omnia quid petat ultra Quid potius Coelum quod novus hospes habet The same Englished Can Nurse choose in her sweet babe more to find Then goods of Fortune Body and of Mind Loe here at once all this what greater blisse Can'st hope or wish Heaven why there he is ROB. BVRTON of Ch. Ch. On the Death of the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount BAYNING SO when an hasty vigour doth disclose An early flame in the more forward Rose That Rarenesse doth destroy it Wonders owe This to themselves still that they cannot grow Such Ripenesse was His Fate Thus to appeare At first was not hereafter to stay here Who thither first steps whither others tend When He sets forth is at the Iourney 's end But as Short things most vigour have and we Find Force the Recompence of Brevity So was it here Compactednesse gave Strength The Life was Close though not spun out at Length Nothing lay idle in 't Experience Rules Men strengthn'd Books Cities season'd Schools Nor did he issue forth to come Home thence As some lesse Man then they goe out from hence Who think new Ayre new Vices may create And stamp Sinne Lawful in Another State Who make Exotick Customes Native Arts And Loose Italian Vices English Parts He naturaliz'd Perfections only gain'd A round and solid mind severely train'd And manag'd his desires brought oft checkt Sense Vnto the sway of Reason comming thence His owne acquaintance morgag'd unto none But was himselfe His owne possession Thus starres by journying still gaine and dispense Drawing at once and shedding influence Thus Spheares by Regular Motion doe encrease Their Tunes and bring their Discords into Peace Hence knew He his owne value ne're put forth Honour for Merit Pow'r instead of Worth Nor when He poyz'd himselfe would He prevaile By Wealth and make his Mannors turne the scale Desert was only ballanc'd nor could we Say my Lord's Rents were only Weight not He Only one slight he had from being Small Vnto himselfe He came Great unto all But Great by no mans Ruine For who will Say that his Seat e're made the next Seate ill No Neighb'ring-village was unpeopled here ' Cause it durst bound a Noble Eye too neere Who could e're say my Lord and the next Marsh Made frequent Herriots or that any harsh Oppressive usage made Young Lives soone fall Or who could His seven thous and bad Ayre call He blessings shed Men knew not to whom more The Sun or Him they might impute their store No rude exaction or licentious times Made his Revenewes Others or His Crimes Nor
are his Legacies poore-mens present teares Or doe they for the future raise their feares No such contrivance here as to professe Bounty and with Large Miseries feed the Lesse Fat some with their owne almes bestow and pill And Common Hungers with Great Famines fill Making an Hundred Wretches endow Tenne Taking the Field and giving a Sheafe then As Robbers whom they spoile perhaps will lend Small summes to helpe them to their journey's end All was untainted here and th' Author such That every gift from Him grew twice as much We who erewhile did boast his presence doe Now boast a second grace his bounty too Bounty was judgment here for he bestowes Not who disperseth but who giues and knowes And what more wise designe then to renew And dresse the brest from which he knowledge drew Thus pious men ere their departure first Would crown the fountain which had quencht their thirst Hence strive we all his memory to engrosse Our Common Love before but now Our Losse W. CARTWRIGHT of Ch. Ch. Vpon the Death of the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount BAYNING O Had He been at Rome again for there The Mercy of his Sicknesse did him spare Acknowledging this Law that 't is but just The place which gave him breath should make him dust That as we have a Native soile so we Ought not to beare Forreine Mortality Though He was only distant then from 's grave Some store of Miles not Years and we can have No worse then Absence whether in the Tombe He lye or in a Climate live from home Yet had He been though from our selves remov'd To any distance if from death bestow'd We would have buried Envy bin content His presence was to any people lent Bin glad some time was still to come though small And could not long rejourne his funerall Death now came Hasty on him and so quick He searce had leave or time for to grow sick But dy'd almost in Health and you may please To call his very life his chiefe disease The Vrne may triumph that the fatall dart Hath wonne the spoile alone without the Art Or learned help of Physick not a Graine Or curious scruple from the Doctortane Made up a skilfull wound but he did dye By the rude stroke of plain Mortality Which was not giveâ—…â—…en his haire turn'd frost And wore the colour which his Ashes must When all his Youth and Beauty were so spent That Age had made him his own Monument When it might be Humanity to kill And the most deadly Drug might proue good-will But in a Spring of fresh and active Blood When there was nothing old in Him but Good He had Graie vertues and by view of 's mind Not yeares he was so soon to heaven design'd He who saw that could see He liv'd his Age Of fourescore made his Race a Pilgrimage And still he lives and from his latest night Breaks out unto the world a glorious light Getting this conquest over death that He Was snatch'd away in 's Liberality In 's Piety to build and care to frame Such sumptuous Trophies as will save his name Had he one vacant houre from Bounty spent And in that houre unto his grave been sent 'T had been lesse glory to his Fall to dye Iust in the sleeping of his Charity But to be caught in Good in Vertue strook Made him Triumphant ere He earth forsook So did the stout Athenian stand in Death Rearing his Statue while he lost his Breath I. MAPPLET of Ch. Ch. To the memory of the Honourable Lord BAYNING FOrbeare yee whining Wits to rayle at Fate In viler termes then Scolds at Billings-gate Nor brand poore Death with baser Epithites Then Textor has when of the Divell he writes All such ill-sounding Dirges yee can have Are but as Mandrakes planted on his grave Your teares are now ridiculous were I A Poet I would write Deaths Elogie Shee here was just and courteous Suppole We should in Ianuary see a Rose Full blown would we not pull 't and think it worth Myriads of those that May or Iune brings forth This early fruitfull Flowre being ripe i' th' Spring Was a fit Present for our Soveraigns King Should shee have left it for the Summers Fly Or Autumn's Worme 't had been ill huswifery Shee cropt it suddenly and was as nice In killing Him as Priests a Sacrifice Lest any bruise should happen 't was her strife To cut and not saw off his thread of life Shee knew he was prepar'd and therefore sent No Gout to tell him that he must repent A tedious sicknesse had his Friends more greiv'd He then had longer died not longer liv'd We judge a Keeper dull and hard of heart That wounds the timorous Dear in every part He doth in Skill and Courtesy excell That kills not hurts and makes his Prey die Well Deaths quicker blow did then no injury But that it hindred Doctors of a Fee There 's none will curse a winde cause it doth send Their ship too soon unto the journies end Doe any Trav'lers think their Horses sinne Vnlesse they bring them Late unto their Inne He now a Voyage took He that did goe To France and Rome must needs see Heaven too What would you say of him that went about To see all England and left London out 'T was for His Glory that He died so soon Should He have lingred till his after-noon We had suspected Him of grosser blood By short continuance we judge things Good A fine pure silken vesture cannot weare So long as garments weav'd of hemp or hayre By this his early fall He did present The Gods with a perfume of sweeter sent Tapers that burne and languish 'till they come To th' socket leave ill odours in the roome Lords count it a disparagement if they Should not have suits which seem new every day Had it not injur'd his high Soule to weare His Body till the flesh had look'd thred-bare Seeing he died so Young it may be said That he 's transplanted rather then decay'd By his fresh looks and his faire youthfull chin We may believe he 's made a Cherubin Those then that wet his Hearse and vainly Cry Not Mourne but Pine at His Eternity Envy that here still follow'd Him is made After His death the shadow of His shade Whil'st others studied how to loose their time Thinking that Logick would their Birth beslime As if it were Gentile not to Dispute It was his chief ambition to confute Who not alone aym'd to deserve his Grace But seem'd by paines to wish a Students place Though Heralds did to Him great Names afford He heard Sir BAYNING sooner then My Lord. Lest the proud noise of Titles might beginne Thoughts that might swell His Plenty into sinne Arts and Religion gnarded them He knew His Fortunes were but Crimes without these two And in a noble scorne disdain'd to spell The Lord i th' Scutchion more then Chronicle His Pride was to be Eloquent and Able As is Our Dorset at
didst bequeath 'em Their Nativitie And they doe Glory Their New-Birth from Thee Thus liv'st Thou Maugre Fate Thy better Parts Survive thus in our Memories and Hearts Nor need'st Thou claime statued Antiquity Vertue Perpetuates Thy Nobility Since we may Date from thy Departure hence The Dearth of Merit and Benevolence Tho. NORGATE of Ch. Ch. On the Death of the Right Honourable the Lord Viscount BAYNING SO sets the Sunne when strait there doth ensue On the forsaken plants a Pensive Dew And so they hang their heads as we the fall O' th' Sun and BAYNING are Griefs Generall There were some comfort yet in Tears could we But mourn our Losse in worthy lines like Thee Could we by what we write to celebrate Thy Name to Life rescue Our Own from fate But we alas orecome with Lustre doe Only a proud and solemne weaknesse show And some who knew Thee better sure will raise A Loving well-meant Libell from our praise To speak one Good as Noble Rich as Free Were but to cloud Thy worth and conceale Thee To write Thy painfull Study's Learnings store Were wrong these had been vertues in the Poore So many numerous Paths of Praise we find Tread which we will we leave the Best behind We cannot Praise nor Thank enough the store Of Guifts thou hast bequeath'd us makes us Poore Yet when our Ruines shall be rais'd which we May Hope for now thriving so well by Thee Each Stone Thy Bounty lay's there shall become A better Monument then a Costly Tombe R. DAY of Ch. Ch. Illustrissimi Vicecomitis BAYNING fato immaturo functi P. M. S. SIc dum secundus Penelope Canitur Hymenaeus Emensosque iam errores iteratae quasi Nuptiae coronant Redux Maritus Evanescit Vxorque Virum Saevas narrantem Vias Dum per Oscula liberare gestit Quaerit quem labris premat Ita vel CoÌ„iugis vice CoÌ„iugis VmbraÌ„ accepisse putemus Vel si Coniugem ideò tantum ut bis vidua esset Gaudemus tamen quod Mitior Pelagi Deus Amplexandum nobis paulisper Corpus indulserit Multumque Vndis debemus Quod non inane Sepulchrum soluÌ„ tituluÌ„ lugeamus Te sub undis labente Novum stupescens Terra sensisset Diem Nam debitos Phaebo sinus facilem thorum Delusa Thetis Occidenti praebuisset Tibi Pulsusque Titan etiam noctu sydera fugasset At O Natura Fatisve subij cis exemplaria Tua Mortique ius facis in Archetypos vultuâ—… Molimini certè tuo tam elaborato Hoc salteÌ„ indere debuisses non potuisse Senesere Quis iam Quis precor Aromatum vice Opera disperget Novumque Aulicos luxum edocebit Boni Nominis Vnguentum Quem non unius Artis Praesidem Ita Philosophantem audivimus Quasi Vicecomitis Praerogativâ etiaÌ„ literis imperaret Hoc Tu testeris Roma Quae accedente ipso BodleianaÌ„ in Vaticanâ senseris Mobilemque Oxoniam obstupueris Sed quà m improvidus noster dolor Qui eodem flumine iam rogum deflet Tuum Quo olim discessum Vt non solenniori pompâ stipatus sis moriens Quà m itinerans olim processeras Parcas tamen Cum eò dignior evadas quia non velut Defunctus lugearis Credimus enim Tepostrevisum Orbem Nostrum Iam tantùm Polos Peragrare Et nunc etiam iterfacere Non tam Mortem obiens quam Legationem F. PALMER ex Aed Ch. In obitum Illustrissimi Vice-comitis BAYNING ERgone tam subitâ potuit vice lenior Aura Turbinis isse vias ruptâ Flaminis irâ In rapidos crevisse Imbres Grandinis instar Praecipitasse Ictus vel quas modò Straverat undas Insanire jubet Nostri haec Emblemata Morbi Praeripiunt Loeto lacrymas dum fortior Aetas Furtivos simulans risus picta futuri Gaudia sola Mali Fato contermina ocellos Vix aptos lugere docet fluctusque serenâ Mente rotat tantos placidae Fastidia vitae Eructat teneros gemitus adeoque fatigat Corpus ut Ipsa salus sit tantùm Aenigma malorum Sic Tumidum in sudo Neptunum vidimus uno Saltant Corda Ioco quo consternata recumbunt Sic tremulam innocuâ cingit vertigine flammam Dum quo Musca prius lusit iam conditur Igne Quid tamen in Metâ labor est torquemur euntes Instruimusqueâ—…ovas diris Ambagibus Vrnas Mortuus est utinam sacrum fas dicere Nomen Siste tamen Gemitus fas est dicere Nomen Syllaba si gemitu magè flebilis impleat Aures Si quicquam emittas praeter suspiria Bayning Qui recitare potest Luctus sacrata reponit Iuramenta sui Nostraeque est Persidus Irae Sic geminus Monumenta viri Monumenta revuisi Nominis Horror habet nisi quae meliore quiescant Vxoris tumulata sinu nisi Praescius Infans Iustior erumpat Tumuli vindicta Paterni Quid minuam Narrando Virum faecundaque certeÌ„ Gramina nativis pinxisse coloribus Illi Debetur tantum vitae descriptio cuius Vita minus Meritis redolet quam Funus Odore Cuius Fama levis patitur dum fata sepulchrum Interitu brevior Tumuloque angustior ipso est Iam morbo praerepta suo pia Fragmina vocis Exaudire iuvat sacro quae Prodiga Luxa Muner a donârunt Nudi ut ditescere possint Quae miranda magis Plenas has Divitis ora Degustâre Manus hinc Collegia crescunt Inter vivaces Tua vita repullulet urnas Turgeat atque nouâ— fama Angustata sepulchro Cum tamen obductâ iaceas caligine reddant Non aliam Tibi fata Fugam quam Nubila Soli. R. LUTE ex Aede Ch. In obitum Illustrissimi Vice-comitis BAYNING ERgo Hominum Mores tantuÌ„ est vidisse pericluÌ„ Vivere dum didicit sic didicitne Mori Iam poterat CAROLO partemfecisse Senatûs Vel Iuvenis Pectus iam Synodale gerens Iamque Vias poter at monstrasse Artesque nocendi Tristius quicquid Roma recondit opus Sed tantum poterat vetuisti caetera Fatum Non erat haec cultro victima digna Tuo Insidiosa Manus nunquam sua Munera struxit Pars vel simplicitas Muneris ipsa fuit Te testor tam digna Domus quae Nomina iactas Cui geminum ornatum Semet Opesque dedit Incola sic Homines auxit sic Tecta Patronus Nunc Vno plusquam Nomine noster Amor. O Impar sed Grata Aedes utinamque decorem Tu poteras Illi quem dedit Ille Tibi IO. GIARE ex Aed Ch. PVllos quisquis es induas colores Orna funereâ caput Cupresso Ite hinc deliciae Venus Cupido Nostrae deliciae dolor querelae Heu gentis periit decus Britannae Lumenque columen novem sororum In flore heu periit peremptus Aevi Vixisti Iuvenis diu Senectam Virtutes faciunt brevi Tabellâ Depictum videas ferum Gygantem At mores sileo silere praestat Quam praeconia frigidè referre Ite meae Lachrymae tanquà m de Nube procellae Cum nimis ingenti pondere
but fill the Traine Nor must we Grieve His Titles losse and tell The vainer World that 't was a Great Man Fell T is not enough that we His Birth rehearse And only Write His Armes insteed of Verse Or Steale Notes from His Scutcheon perhaps we Might Mourn Him thus in perfect Heraldry But 't is a Strain too low nor wil't suffice For Epitaph that Here His Lordship Lyes Thus I could be content to Weep His Fame Where nothing else was great besides the Name Whence Learning felt an Exile where That Word Of Vertue sounded Lower then my Lord He whom we sadly Mourne hear this all You Wrapt up in Chaines was Rich in Learning too A Colledge was His Home He did not here Sit still a while and only change His Ayre As some who Iourney hither and are grown But to this Art of wearing a silk Gowne Who ' mongst Their other losse of Time doe still Count the halfe-year thus spent against Their Will Who fain would crosse the Seas think that They Have Travell'd thus far only out o' th' way Nor did he count a Lord in a Degree A Learned Monster of Nobility As if some Envious Fate strove to Maintaine That only Ignorance should wear a Chaine Gold was not all His Treasury We may Reckon His Wealth in more then shining Clay Summe up His Stock of Arts and Knowledge you That prize th' Estate count in His Study too This is the Style of Honour which we boast In Him whose Fame doth still Survive His Ghost Nor quarrell We with Fate for we should wrong His Vertues now to grieve that He Dy'd Young One of His worth is alwaies full of Yeares He Dy'd too soon by nothing but our Teares Ripe Early and prepar'd for Heaven He Had all of Age but the Infirmity He was Religious and Stay'd as One Whom Four-score years thrust to Devotion One of That flowing Charity as if still In ev'ry Guift He did intend a Will How He Bequeath'd His Almes to all so free What ever He Bestowd was Legacy Thus He had Many Heyres and the blest Poore Did only Multiply His Successour But I 'le not summe His Vertues H'embrac't more Then all Philosophy did Talk before They only did Dispute His Life and might Had They known Him been better Skild to Write W. TOWERS of Ch. Ch. Vpon the Death of the Lord Viscount BAYNING VVErt Thou an ancient Corse of a gray head So spent as to be thought run out not dead Had'st Thou endur'd long gowtes or longer rage Of Aches and at last dyed of long age At such a funerall our Teares were lost Where the grave makes not but receives a Ghost Thou when not ripe enough to live didst fall Even when thy Lady might Thee Lady call And like an early spring didst show to th' eye Signes of a fruitfull Autumne and then dye Yet though Thou dy'dst a Blossome we were those Who could foresee Thee blown and judge Thee Rose Thy after life was wrapt up in this bud As in a sprout a faire flower 's understood And as when men file rocks for Iewels th'Ore Shows sparks which would be stones two Ages more So we might say had this young Diamond grown That which now twinkled then had lightning thrown And as rich Exudations sweat from th' Tree Are first soft gumms not toucht would Amber be Or as in th'Indyes men finde wealthy Mould Which the next generation diggs up gold So Thou lack'st but Concoction seaven years more Had made those vertues true Mine which died Ore Nay thou wert Bullion now and we had seen Hadst Thou liv'd longer Masse had Medalls been Thy forwardnesse lackt only stampe and rate Thou wert true silver but uncoyn'd by th' State Which did perceive thy title was as good To honours by thy Hopefulnesse as blood And had'st Thou staid but to be call'd to th'Board The Worthy Man had taken place o th' Lord. Then had we seen from Letters ' mongst us sowne Thy Prince had Embassyes and Counsells mowne When that which Thou Philosophy took'st in Had come forth great Example and Life bin Thy vertues were not lesse because yet greene They might more season'd but not more have been Broader they might have bin shown more sweld Yet had the Leafe not more then th'Ingot held As from a clue Workmen large hangings call Yet all the silke in th' Arras was i th' Ball. In short lives great parts hasten and come quick And where they want roome to be vast are thick Even thy raw promises were perfect lackt Time but to make them aged not exact Vntraveld Thou wert Learned yet the Book In Thee fresh learning from thy Travells took Thou cam'st home sober froÌ„ light Nations France Taught Thee to sit in Councell not to dance Italian Policy Thou brought'st away Yet wert not made more able to betray Their Plots had been made Service and that skill Had been taught to Preserve which us'd to Kill Thy Merit not thy Bowle had made Thee Great No Office had fal'n to Thee by thy Meat Thou didst returne so innocent we could call Nothing Italian but thy Funerall That was so sudden no successours pill Did Pope with more hast then thy surfet kill Prophets translated were so ravish't bate The sense oth'pang thy death was change not fate Had'st Thou bequeath'd us nought thy name had still Bin Legacy t' have bin o th' house was Will And we in thy deare losse think w' are bereft Of more then if Thou had'st us whole heyres left Now since like Wolsey th' art expir'd and gone We only can pay Reverence to thy Stone Which equall to His will this glory winne Thou help'st to Finish what He did Beginne IASPER MAYNE of Ch. Ch. PENELOPE Multùm Deflendi Domini VICECOMITIS BAYNING Relictae Fidelissimae Haec sacro VIvida quae Castos Tibi Flamma accendit Ocellos Accendit illa Conjugis Pectus Tui Et quos Ipsa geris radiantes or be Genarum Hos Ille Flores Moribus gessit suis Quique Tibi Cander totos illuminat Artus Diem per Animum Lucidi sparsit Viri Sic Artus excudit Amor sic pingit Ocellos Sic spectatintus simul scribit Genas Sic Te Te exhausit Coniux Te Teimbibit Vnam Partemque quivis Actus emisit Tui Archetypa Amissam plorabis maesta Tabellam Excripta tanquam posset Imago Mori Quantus erat Coniux certè Tuus integer Ille Vt Quanta Imago est Corporis tota est sui In Te dicatur tantùm hinc Redijsse Maritus Vt Vmbra nocte Corpus unde exît petit Si Vultus si Verba ejus si Basia quaeraes Te Cerne Te Affare Tibi signes Labra In Te splendet adhuc adhuc in Te sonat Ille Amatque vel adhuc Ipsa si Teipsam Ames Cuncta tamen maestum dices habet ista Sepulchrum Annon Sepulchrum Pectus est istud Tuum Sic quod Tudefles in Te spectamus Amoris Solamen hoc est grande dum Quaerit Frui GVIL CARTVVRIGHT ex Aed Ch. Illustrissimo Domino Vicecomiti BAYNING QVuantusque restat Posteris Hic est Ille Alterius Orbis Fama sed Stupor Nostri Vindex Potentum Purpuram Scholis donans Opumque vindex Seque nec Opibus tradens Censum Domare gnarus Frui Partis Impertiendo Gentium videns Ritus Uitiis Sequester Pervigil sui Custos Peregrè profectus tamen Domi semper Interque Mores Exteros Suis vivens Revehens Amorem quem extulit Foris Conjux Non Circinalis iunctior Pedi Pes est Dominus Omnes allevans Gravis Nulli Satur viarum Raptus satur Dotum Aetate justâ vegetus at magis Mente Non plura Merito at Gloriae dari possent Cunctis Dolorem Mortuus facit Vivâ—… Fecit nec Vni Levior incubes Tellus Non Ipse Quenquam Tuque nec Premas Ipsuâ—… Sic Parentat GUIL STOTEVILE ex Aed Ch. To the Right Vertuous and my much Honoured the Lady PENELOPE BAYNING Most Honour'd Madam TO All that hath been said I Eccho am Though with an hoarser Voice return the same But His was Clean and Faire as his Intent And His Performances His Complement Who had more Vertue then deriv'd froÌ„ th'wombe And more Perfections then are writ on 's Tombe Honour such as the King could not bestow Vnlesse his Great Example made him so Who brought froÌ„ Rome as did his Prince froÌ„ Spain Religion and His very selfe againe Here lies That Lord All This who had been more Had time but lent concoction to his Ore Be witnesse ô my Griefe then for I may Now challenge something in Him being Clay What Thoughts what Spirits what InteÌ„ts what Seeds What Acts what CouÌ„sels what Designes what Deeds Are blasted in His fall But least I may Encrease your Night by telling what great Day Would hence have risen let me only beare Sad witnesse that All which you have read here Is modest and His own and though we find His ' State was Vast 't was Narrow'r then His Mind Look then into His Will not Testament And judge not what He Did but what He Meant RICH CHAWORTH of Ch. Ch. FINIS