Phyala Lachrymarum: Or A Few Friendly Teares, shed over the dead Body of Mr Nathaniel Weld Mr of Arts of Emanuel Colledge in Cambridge who in the short journey of his life, died betweene the five and sixe and twentieth yeare of his youth, 1633. Together with sundry choyce Meditations of Mortalitie [by William Lathum] |
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 | Phyala Lachrymarum: Or A Few Friendly Teares, shed over the dead Body of Mr Nathaniel Weld Mr of Arts of Emanuel Colledge in Cambridge |  |
And, as a poore Appendix to his Tombe,
Writ so, as to be read, vouchsafe a roome
To this my secret plaint, and private mone,
Conceiv'd in silence to my selfe alone,
When at his grave I did recall to minde
The fickle-fraile condition of mankind.
Ah for my friend, who wish'd and lov'd mee well,
I him as well; I (living) saw him dead,
who mote have liv'd, t'have bidden mee farewell,
And seene mee gasp my last, on my death-bed.
But so't pleased him (who each mans vitall thread
Spins as him list) his thread of life to break;
And mine hath spar'd, and longer lengthened;
(The longer though, so much more still the weake:)
Ah the weake webbe of mans fraile flesh, how soone
(That long was weaving) is't againe undone?
But if of all thy friends there be not one
Some little monument of carved stone,
That will thee raise, thy name whereon to write,
And none to thee this duty will acquite:
Yet I shall joy that I have thought it fit,
And that I thus to them have mention'd it:
And were thy friend, thy sound-whole-hearted friend,
As thy good nature, wont him oft commend,
In heart (as once hee was) and may againe,
If God to his indeavours say Amen,
This charge by him, should be for thee defraid,
For in small cost much love may be bewrayd.
Writ so, as to be read, vouchsafe a roome
To this my secret plaint, and private mone,
Conceiv'd in silence to my selfe alone,
When at his grave I did recall to minde
The fickle-fraile condition of mankind.
10
I him as well; I (living) saw him dead,
who mote have liv'd, t'have bidden mee farewell,
And seene mee gasp my last, on my death-bed.
But so't pleased him (who each mans vitall thread
Spins as him list) his thread of life to break;
And mine hath spar'd, and longer lengthened;
(The longer though, so much more still the weake:)
Ah the weake webbe of mans fraile flesh, how soone
(That long was weaving) is't againe undone?
But if of all thy friends there be not one
Some little monument of carved stone,
That will thee raise, thy name whereon to write,
And none to thee this duty will acquite:
Yet I shall joy that I have thought it fit,
And that I thus to them have mention'd it:
And were thy friend, thy sound-whole-hearted friend,
As thy good nature, wont him oft commend,
In heart (as once hee was) and may againe,
If God to his indeavours say Amen,
This charge by him, should be for thee defraid,
For in small cost much love may be bewrayd.
And if prayers lawfull were to any Saint,
And Saints our prayers could heare, and God acquaint
With what we want, and in necessitie
We mote (poore men) relieved be thereby:
Thou should'st my Saint of Intercession be,
And (my deare Nat) I'de onely pray to thee:
For thou amongst the Saints a Saint dost dwell,
And reap'st the fruit there, of here living well;
Where hope and faith both being at an end,
Nought thou (save charitie) hast to intend:
And Gloria Patri, and Te Deum sing,
And quous que Domine, ceasest thou to bring
The world to question, and the hard constraints,
And sufferance to avenge of thy deare Saints?
Thus thou in prayers, and praises mixt among
Dost spend, or rather dost thy time prolong.
And Saints our prayers could heare, and God acquaint
With what we want, and in necessitie
We mote (poore men) relieved be thereby:
Thou should'st my Saint of Intercession be,
And (my deare Nat) I'de onely pray to thee:
For thou amongst the Saints a Saint dost dwell,
And reap'st the fruit there, of here living well;
Where hope and faith both being at an end,
Nought thou (save charitie) hast to intend:
And Gloria Patri, and Te Deum sing,
And quous que Domine, ceasest thou to bring
The world to question, and the hard constraints,
And sufferance to avenge of thy deare Saints?
11
Dost spend, or rather dost thy time prolong.
But now (thou Muse) of all the mournfullest,
Who at a sad and dolefull tale art best:
And (thou Calliope) whose powerfull Muse
Can minister, and goodly well infuse
Meete matter, and fit words to any one
For fancie and conceit to workeupon,
For vertues sake, assist mee to bewray
(Sith well I meane) what I have here to say;
And as my Midwives, helpe me forth to throw
The Infants of my braine wherewith I goe;
And teach their new-borne tongues (however weake)
Of this your darling worthily to speake.
Who at a sad and dolefull tale art best:
And (thou Calliope) whose powerfull Muse
Can minister, and goodly well infuse
Meete matter, and fit words to any one
For fancie and conceit to workeupon,
For vertues sake, assist mee to bewray
(Sith well I meane) what I have here to say;
And as my Midwives, helpe me forth to throw
The Infants of my braine wherewith I goe;
And teach their new-borne tongues (however weake)
Of this your darling worthily to speake.
Wherein if they so fairly them acquite,
To say but somewhat that may doe him right,
'Twill welcome prove; their very naming him
Will grace, and adde enough to their esteeme;
For never man more worthy is than hee
To be remembred both of you and mee.
To say but somewhat that may doe him right,
'Twill welcome prove; their very naming him
Will grace, and adde enough to their esteeme;
For never man more worthy is than hee
To be remembred both of you and mee.
Rarely was ever seen (bee't not envi'd,)
Such a combination, and so full a tyde
(In such an under-age) of all true worth,
Where nature and Grace consented to set forth
A modell to the world of what they can,
When they intend to frame some speciall man,
For every purpose and intention fit;
Such a combination, and so full a tyde
(In such an under-age) of all true worth,
Where nature and Grace consented to set forth
A modell to the world of what they can,
When they intend to frame some speciall man,
For every purpose and intention fit;
A most acuminous, quick-pregnant wit;
A cleare fine fancie, and a quaint conceit,
Active, and nimble, and yet full of weight;
A piercing present strong capacitie;
A spacious, vast, tenacious memorie;
A minde compos'd of art and industrie;
A heart affecting (unaffectedly)
To make pure profit of all good mens good;
And each vainefull of piety as blood.
I say unaffectedly, sith what need hee
(Whom Nature hath enabled to bee
What ere him pleas'd) affect the speech, the tone,
The phrase, gest, or garb of els any one?
A cleare fine fancie, and a quaint conceit,
Active, and nimble, and yet full of weight;
A piercing present strong capacitie;
A spacious, vast, tenacious memorie;
A minde compos'd of art and industrie;
A heart affecting (unaffectedly)
To make pure profit of all good mens good;
And each vainefull of piety as blood.
12
(Whom Nature hath enabled to bee
What ere him pleas'd) affect the speech, the tone,
The phrase, gest, or garb of els any one?
Here Art, Learning, Knowledge, Wisedome, Judgement,
(Above his age) and strange Intendement,
With learning, and the Learned tongues as well
He furnisht was; the kernell as the shell,
Excellent in some, scarce yeelding to the best,
Well seen, and rationall in all the rest:
Yea, (what himselfe would not) I dare him vant,
In no scientiall knowledge ignorant.
In so small time, how deeply wert thou read?
And how farre travelled and traversed
In the bookes of God and Nature (fit to teach
Both learned and unlearned out of each?)
(Above his age) and strange Intendement,
With learning, and the Learned tongues as well
He furnisht was; the kernell as the shell,
Excellent in some, scarce yeelding to the best,
Well seen, and rationall in all the rest:
Yea, (what himselfe would not) I dare him vant,
In no scientiall knowledge ignorant.
In so small time, how deeply wert thou read?
And how farre travelled and traversed
In the bookes of God and Nature (fit to teach
Both learned and unlearned out of each?)
Loyall, and full of faith and faithfulnesse
To God and man, in all hee did professe,
Here Bountie and all courteous Amenage,
Of Generositie the true presage,
As farre from surquedrous-proud-selfe-conceit,
Which all great wits doth commonly await,
As his religion and his faith was free
From spot or taint of unsound heresie.
To God and man, in all hee did professe,
Here Bountie and all courteous Amenage,
Of Generositie the true presage,
As farre from surquedrous-proud-selfe-conceit,
Which all great wits doth commonly await,
As his religion and his faith was free
From spot or taint of unsound heresie.
Here that Sal Gemmæ (as wee may it call)
Discretion; which doth kindly season all;
A breast full fraught with cleere integritie,
And all set off with sweet Humilitie,
A winning vertue, and a speciall grace,
To usher in a man before Gods face,
Than which no vertue shines but halfe so bright,
And without which the weightiest gold is light.
Discretion; which doth kindly season all;
A breast full fraught with cleere integritie,
And all set off with sweet Humilitie,
A winning vertue, and a speciall grace,
To usher in a man before Gods face,
Than which no vertue shines but halfe so bright,
And without which the weightiest gold is light.
This added lustre and imbellishment
To all his other worth where ere hee went:
So that as hee by vertue gain'd respect,
Vertue by him regain'd the like effect:
Each of them honour'd by each others worth,
As pearle in gold, both sets, and is set forth:
Yea, all that man to God and man indeares,
Were met together in these tender yeeres.
To all his other worth where ere hee went:
So that as hee by vertue gain'd respect,
Vertue by him regain'd the like effect:
13
As pearle in gold, both sets, and is set forth:
Yea, all that man to God and man indeares,
Were met together in these tender yeeres.
Scarce the sixt yeare of's manhood he attain'd,
When he this masse of vertuous treasures gain'd,
Where, had hee but gone on as hee began,
And doubled his few yeares, Lord, what a man,
And to what excellence would he have growne,
To the worlds wonder, and emulation.
When he this masse of vertuous treasures gain'd,
Where, had hee but gone on as hee began,
And doubled his few yeares, Lord, what a man,
And to what excellence would he have growne,
To the worlds wonder, and emulation.
Much have I heard of thy rich Mines, Perue,
Thy Rubies, Diamonds, and Saphyrs blew,
And of that Island-rivers pretious shells
Where orient pearle of namelesse value dwells:
But in one Mine, one Shell, one Rocke or Shore,
Some of all these were never found before.
Thy Rubies, Diamonds, and Saphyrs blew,
And of that Island-rivers pretious shells
Where orient pearle of namelesse value dwells:
But in one Mine, one Shell, one Rocke or Shore,
Some of all these were never found before.
Gardens and orchards infinite there are,
With all sorts of fruits, and flowers rare:
But all at once growne on one stalke and tree,
I never saw till now (deere Nat) in thee.
With all sorts of fruits, and flowers rare:
But all at once growne on one stalke and tree,
I never saw till now (deere Nat) in thee.
Ah my deere Lord, pardon this fault of mine,
If not censidering well this deed of thine,
I too too foolish fondly have repin'd,
And in the heate of griefe have spoke my minde
Thus sawcely. Farre better a great deale
Ne're to the world this jewell to reveale,
Than showne a while to put it up againe
I'th case, unseene for ever to remaine.
If not censidering well this deed of thine,
I too too foolish fondly have repin'd,
And in the heate of griefe have spoke my minde
Thus sawcely. Farre better a great deale
Ne're to the world this jewell to reveale,
Than showne a while to put it up againe
I'th case, unseene for ever to remaine.
But 'twas thy will, and thus I answer must,
My discontent, sith certes 'tis but just,
That hee who makes the jewell may dispose
Thereof at pleasure, lest it else mote lose,
In this unbeveld age, when 'tis so hard
For vertue-selfe from taint her selfe to guard,
Any those Diamonds and Pearls of Grace,
Which round about his Gemme he did enchase.
My discontent, sith certes 'tis but just,
That hee who makes the jewell may dispose
Thereof at pleasure, lest it else mote lose,
In this unbeveld age, when 'tis so hard
For vertue-selfe from taint her selfe to guard,
Any those Diamonds and Pearls of Grace,
Which round about his Gemme he did enchase.
14
Unfained friend, Oh how unfainedly
Do I lament, when I say thou didst die?
Why mote not I (whose life is of no use)
Thy too too hastie death by death excuse?
Do I lament, when I say thou didst die?
Why mote not I (whose life is of no use)
Thy too too hastie death by death excuse?
The Sunne to set at night is naturall;
But if at noone to set it should befall,
It would the world with wonder deep dismay;
But should it set in'th nonage of the day,
The course of nature (all sorts would crye out)
Confounded is, and quite turn'd round about.
But if at noone to set it should befall,
It would the world with wonder deep dismay;
But should it set in'th nonage of the day,
The course of nature (all sorts would crye out)
Confounded is, and quite turn'd round about.
And is't not thus, the very same in men,
When we see fouresocore, fiftie, threescore yeares and ten
Climbe back (as 'twere) the westerne hill againe,
As if the South point of their life to gaine:
Whilst younglings (such as this dayes sample shew'th)
Set in their graves in 'th morning of their youth?
A needfull caution to the younger frie,
Sith life it selfe is but uncertaintie:
And death no time prescribes, or can it stay,
But it will come at all how'rs of the day;
That every one, they stand upon their guard,
Remembring ever that death never spar'd
Youth for youths sake:
But (for the practice of his bow) will slay
All sorts of game that comes within his way,
Be't Stagge, Buck, Hynd, Doe, Herse, Calfe, or Phone,
All's one to him, and he to all is one;
Whether it out of season be or in,
Impartially, he reaketh not a pin.
When we see fouresocore, fiftie, threescore yeares and ten
Climbe back (as 'twere) the westerne hill againe,
As if the South point of their life to gaine:
Whilst younglings (such as this dayes sample shew'th)
Set in their graves in 'th morning of their youth?
A needfull caution to the younger frie,
Sith life it selfe is but uncertaintie:
And death no time prescribes, or can it stay,
But it will come at all how'rs of the day;
That every one, they stand upon their guard,
Remembring ever that death never spar'd
Youth for youths sake:
But (for the practice of his bow) will slay
All sorts of game that comes within his way,
Be't Stagge, Buck, Hynd, Doe, Herse, Calfe, or Phone,
All's one to him, and he to all is one;
Whether it out of season be or in,
Impartially, he reaketh not a pin.
Ah, when I heard them sorrowfully say,
That thou wert dead, the very like dismay
In every face I did observe (mee thought)
As when in Pharo's Land sad newes was brought,
That in one instant time, and casually,
One was found slaine in every familie:
So much unhappy tydings one nights scope
Can bring to light, to strangle all our hope.
That thou wert dead, the very like dismay
In every face I did observe (mee thought)
As when in Pharo's Land sad newes was brought,
That in one instant time, and casually,
One was found slaine in every familie:
So much unhappy tydings one nights scope
Can bring to light, to strangle all our hope.
15
Sith when to day with joy I heard them tell
The worst is past, and hope thou shouldst doe well,
The morrow next (by breake of day) I heare
The Passing-bell invite thee to thy Beare,
And to prepare thy selfe for going hence,
Which message, though with Christian confidence,
Through strength of highest hope, and faith-unfain,
Didst readily, and joyfull entertain:
So (like a full ripe nutt slipt from the shell)
Thou slip'st away, and bad'st us all farewell.
But well without thee (Ah!) how can wee fare?
With whose sweete company we wont repare
Our former losse of time, which wee mispent
In idlenesse, or things impertinent.
The worst is past, and hope thou shouldst doe well,
The morrow next (by breake of day) I heare
The Passing-bell invite thee to thy Beare,
And to prepare thy selfe for going hence,
Which message, though with Christian confidence,
Through strength of highest hope, and faith-unfain,
Didst readily, and joyfull entertain:
So (like a full ripe nutt slipt from the shell)
Thou slip'st away, and bad'st us all farewell.
But well without thee (Ah!) how can wee fare?
With whose sweete company we wont repare
Our former losse of time, which wee mispent
In idlenesse, or things impertinent.
Oh my deere Weld, whose conversation was
So lovely unto mee, could sighs (alas)
And true-shed teares (the characters of griefe)
Unto thy sicknesse added have reliefe;
Had it in power of learned Leach-craft ly'n,
Or in the miracle of Medicine;
A noble Art (no doubt) which can againe
New twist the thred of life nigh crackt in twaine:
Could devout pray'rs of friends have thee repriv'd
From death, and made thee to be longer liv'd,
Thou shouldst not now thy Friends and Parents backs
Have cloath'd all over thus, in mourning blacks:
Ne all their heavie hearts shouldst now have clad
In sable mantle of thoughts dark and sad:
Ne should my Muse have on thy heavie Herse,
(O heavie Herse,) attend in sable Verse:
Ne yet the eyes of my ink-stained quill
On my white-cheekt leaves these blacke teares distill.
So lovely unto mee, could sighs (alas)
And true-shed teares (the characters of griefe)
Unto thy sicknesse added have reliefe;
Had it in power of learned Leach-craft ly'n,
Or in the miracle of Medicine;
A noble Art (no doubt) which can againe
New twist the thred of life nigh crackt in twaine:
Could devout pray'rs of friends have thee repriv'd
From death, and made thee to be longer liv'd,
Thou shouldst not now thy Friends and Parents backs
Have cloath'd all over thus, in mourning blacks:
Ne all their heavie hearts shouldst now have clad
In sable mantle of thoughts dark and sad:
Ne should my Muse have on thy heavie Herse,
(O heavie Herse,) attend in sable Verse:
Ne yet the eyes of my ink-stained quill
On my white-cheekt leaves these blacke teares distill.
How lovely wert thou (living) unto all?
All, for thou wert not sullen-cynicall,
Nor of a supercilious-haughtie eye,
But affable, and full of courtesie,
Well pleas'd with mirth, and harmlesse merriment,
Which (but injuriously) can ne're be shent.
How did all hugge thee, and embrace, for thy'
Thy (hardly-sampled) selfe, and company?
How joy'd all at thy comming? and in heart
How sad, and sorrowfull at thy depart?
Yea, and (now dead) how doth each thing retaine
Like love to thee, and of thee beene as faine?
All, for thou wert not sullen-cynicall,
Nor of a supercilious-haughtie eye,
But affable, and full of courtesie,
16
Which (but injuriously) can ne're be shent.
How did all hugge thee, and embrace, for thy'
Thy (hardly-sampled) selfe, and company?
How joy'd all at thy comming? and in heart
How sad, and sorrowfull at thy depart?
Yea, and (now dead) how doth each thing retaine
Like love to thee, and of thee beene as faine?
When (weary) thou thy death-bed didst forsake,
How readie was thy winding-sheet to take
Thee in her milke-white armes (not satisfi'd)
Till wholly to her selfe she did thee hide.
How readie was thy winding-sheet to take
Thee in her milke-white armes (not satisfi'd)
Till wholly to her selfe she did thee hide.
And next thy coffin (being very proud
At'th second hand, t'injoy thee in thy shrowd)
For love of thee the sheete where thou dost dwell,
Doth hugge and kisse, much like the loving shell,
That for the almons sake the tender skin
Encloseth round, where th'almond lyeth in.
At'th second hand, t'injoy thee in thy shrowd)
For love of thee the sheete where thou dost dwell,
Doth hugge and kisse, much like the loving shell,
That for the almons sake the tender skin
Encloseth round, where th'almond lyeth in.
And then the Earth which (living) lov'd thee so,
To kisse thy feet where ever thou didst goe,
With no lesse love doth now embrace thy chest,
Within her owne deere bosome long to rest,
Till thou (whom shee seemes so in love withall)
In thine owne dust, into her armes dost fall.
To kisse thy feet where ever thou didst goe,
With no lesse love doth now embrace thy chest,
Within her owne deere bosome long to rest,
Till thou (whom shee seemes so in love withall)
In thine owne dust, into her armes dost fall.
Last, when thy soule of thee did take her leave,
An Angell readily did it receive,
And in his winged armes did it convey
Nimbly to Heaven, and still all the way
With sacred kisses courted it, and sang
To it a Requiem sweet, whereat it sprang
In's Armes for joy; (no doubt) for very joy
That it should now so suddenly enjoy
The blessed vision of her Lord who dy'd
Ingloriously, her glory to provide.
How can I then, but (living) thee admire,
Whom ('live and dead) both Heaven and Earth desire?
An Angell readily did it receive,
And in his winged armes did it convey
Nimbly to Heaven, and still all the way
With sacred kisses courted it, and sang
To it a Requiem sweet, whereat it sprang
In's Armes for joy; (no doubt) for very joy
That it should now so suddenly enjoy
The blessed vision of her Lord who dy'd
Ingloriously, her glory to provide.
How can I then, but (living) thee admire,
Whom ('live and dead) both Heaven and Earth desire?
17
Farewell (deerfriend) too soone ripe, long to last:
Happie young man, who so long journey hast
In so small time dispatcht: such hap as this
The first heires of the first world long did misse,
And staid sometimes a thousand yeares well nigh,
Ere they (as thou) su'd out their Livery.
Happie young man, who so long journey hast
In so small time dispatcht: such hap as this
The first heires of the first world long did misse,
And staid sometimes a thousand yeares well nigh,
Ere they (as thou) su'd out their Livery.
Happy young man; and fortunately blest,
In all; and amongst all not blessed least
In thy Mecœnas (that thrice-noble Lord)
Who count'nance to thy learning did afford;
Ne onely did thee hold in great regard,
But thee with bounteous hand did oft reward,
And grac'd thy person for thy vertues sake.
In all; and amongst all not blessed least
In thy Mecœnas (that thrice-noble Lord)
Who count'nance to thy learning did afford;
Ne onely did thee hold in great regard,
But thee with bounteous hand did oft reward,
And grac'd thy person for thy vertues sake.
Mote learning-selfe, and learned men him make
Full great requitall (gentle Lord) for this;
And make his fame the golden Starres to kisse:
And by the power of their mightie Muse,
The praises eccho lowd, of the Great Bruce,
And honour him, who in so deere account
Holds the true sonnes of the Syonian Mount:
Him leaving, henceforth standing brave enrowl'd
Amongst the Ancient Roman Peeres of old,
(Mecœnas, Varus, Pollio, Patrons all;)
Whose show'rs of bountie downe did daily fall,
On merit and true worth; and men of Art
Cherisht, and by their goodnesse kept in heart.
Forsooth the Lord, whom I so truly vant,
All noble vertues in his bosome hant,
And as himselfe indeed right learned is,
Which (Ah great pittie) most great men doe misse,
So hath hee als' a bounteous heart, to prize
And tender vertue, and good qualities
In all, in whomsoever they appeare,
(The very essence of a noble Peere.)
Full great requitall (gentle Lord) for this;
And make his fame the golden Starres to kisse:
And by the power of their mightie Muse,
The praises eccho lowd, of the Great Bruce,
And honour him, who in so deere account
Holds the true sonnes of the Syonian Mount:
Him leaving, henceforth standing brave enrowl'd
Amongst the Ancient Roman Peeres of old,
(Mecœnas, Varus, Pollio, Patrons all;)
Whose show'rs of bountie downe did daily fall,
On merit and true worth; and men of Art
Cherisht, and by their goodnesse kept in heart.
Forsooth the Lord, whom I so truly vant,
All noble vertues in his bosome hant,
And as himselfe indeed right learned is,
Which (Ah great pittie) most great men doe misse,
So hath hee als' a bounteous heart, to prize
And tender vertue, and good qualities
In all, in whomsoever they appeare,
(The very essence of a noble Peere.)
Pardon (great Lord) this poore Parenthesis,
Which but the skirt of thy just praise doth kisse,
And which (by way of humble thankes) I send
In name of my (late living) now dead friend;
Who (living) honour'd thee, and spake all good
Of thee and thine, and thy rare bountihood;
That in his sicknesse didst so oft addresse
Thy messengers and golden messages;
Yea, and in person daign'st to visit him,
Where in he read to him thy great esteeme,
That (had not mortall beene his maladie)
It much had made to his recoverie.
The joy, and heartie comfort he conceiv'd
Of'th gracious words and deeds from thee receiv'd;
God recompence this love to thee and thine
Tenfold, which thou to that deere friend of mine,
Whilst I returne againe to make an end
Of this course webbe, which I did him intend,
Which, ere I fully finish, take by the way
(Deere Nat) this little what I have to say.
Which but the skirt of thy just praise doth kisse,
18
In name of my (late living) now dead friend;
Who (living) honour'd thee, and spake all good
Of thee and thine, and thy rare bountihood;
That in his sicknesse didst so oft addresse
Thy messengers and golden messages;
Yea, and in person daign'st to visit him,
Where in he read to him thy great esteeme,
That (had not mortall beene his maladie)
It much had made to his recoverie.
The joy, and heartie comfort he conceiv'd
Of'th gracious words and deeds from thee receiv'd;
God recompence this love to thee and thine
Tenfold, which thou to that deere friend of mine,
Whilst I returne againe to make an end
Of this course webbe, which I did him intend,
Which, ere I fully finish, take by the way
(Deere Nat) this little what I have to say.
Unmanly 'tis I know, for men alive
With Soule-divorced bodies once to strive;
Yet (well as once I lov'd thee) I must have
A Contestation with thee in thy Grave.
With Soule-divorced bodies once to strive;
Yet (well as once I lov'd thee) I must have
A Contestation with thee in thy Grave.
Wee see by proofe 'tis usuall in our Land
For Traders, having got into their hand
All upon trust from others what they may,
Oft suddenly to breake and run away:
(For their owne ends) not caring to undoe
Their Creditors, with wives and children too.
Simply to cozen, and deceive is bad,
And is of all good men in hatred had;
But to deceive a friends especiall trust
Of all else 'tis a thing the most unjust.
For Traders, having got into their hand
All upon trust from others what they may,
Oft suddenly to breake and run away:
(For their owne ends) not caring to undoe
Their Creditors, with wives and children too.
Simply to cozen, and deceive is bad,
And is of all good men in hatred had;
But to deceive a friends especiall trust
Of all else 'tis a thing the most unjust.
Now, though it be a thing that neere concernes
My selfe, and thy best friends, yet my heart yernes,
And I am loath (remembring what thou wast)
Any the least aspersion here to cast
Upon thy credit (tender and precize)
To hurt what (living) thou so deere didst prize:
But thou this merchant art (mine owne deere Nat)
And when wee saw thee thrive, and full of that
Rich merchandize of Honestie, and Grace,
Of Goodnesse, and a dainty diapaze
Of sweete harmonious worth, and vertues (rare
elsewhere to finde) and which few men do care
To trafficke for; thereof wee were so faine
(And sure so should if't were to doe againe)
And very fond, that eft soones wee brought forth,
And ventur'd all with thee that wee were worth;
Our liking, our affection, yea our heart,
And our best love wee did to thee impart.
My selfe, and thy best friends, yet my heart yernes,
And I am loath (remembring what thou wast)
Any the least aspersion here to cast
19
To hurt what (living) thou so deere didst prize:
But thou this merchant art (mine owne deere Nat)
And when wee saw thee thrive, and full of that
Rich merchandize of Honestie, and Grace,
Of Goodnesse, and a dainty diapaze
Of sweete harmonious worth, and vertues (rare
elsewhere to finde) and which few men do care
To trafficke for; thereof wee were so faine
(And sure so should if't were to doe againe)
And very fond, that eft soones wee brought forth,
And ventur'd all with thee that wee were worth;
Our liking, our affection, yea our heart,
And our best love wee did to thee impart.
But when our time of hoped gaine once came,
(With injurie enough, and thy much blame)
Thou for preferment in a better world
Gav'st us the slip, and our care quite off hurl'd;
Leaving us poore, and bankerout hereby,
Yea, and thou hast undone us utterly.
(With injurie enough, and thy much blame)
Thou for preferment in a better world
Gav'st us the slip, and our care quite off hurl'd;
Leaving us poore, and bankerout hereby,
Yea, and thou hast undone us utterly.
Sith all our Stocke thou dost with thee retaine,
And wee nought left have to begin againe:
And though wee had, yet sith thou prov'st unjust
(Mine owne heart root) wee know not whom to trust:
Yet would thou hadst but liv'd, I dare well say
Thou wouldst have paid while thou hadst ought to pay.
How ere, it joyes my heart to thinke, as I
Live in thy debt, that thou in mine didst die.
And howsoever I thee thus have shent,
Yet sith thou didst but what all would, content
Are wee to sit downe by our losse: could wee
But see thee now and then, and talke with thee
As we were wont, our losse would seeme the lesse.
And wee nought left have to begin againe:
And though wee had, yet sith thou prov'st unjust
(Mine owne heart root) wee know not whom to trust:
Yet would thou hadst but liv'd, I dare well say
Thou wouldst have paid while thou hadst ought to pay.
How ere, it joyes my heart to thinke, as I
Live in thy debt, that thou in mine didst die.
And howsoever I thee thus have shent,
Yet sith thou didst but what all would, content
Are wee to sit downe by our losse: could wee
But see thee now and then, and talke with thee
As we were wont, our losse would seeme the lesse.
But sith our case is quite remedilesse,
And we have no meanes left to get our owne,
But to pursue thee whither thou art gone;
Though say wee so should doe, thou wouldst alledge
(To put us off) that places priviledge;
Whence 'twould be harder to compell thee, then
I'th Temple Hall t'arrest a thousand men:
Therefore, for my part, I let fall my suit
With promise, henceforth nere to prosecute.
And we have no meanes left to get our owne,
But to pursue thee whither thou art gone;
20
(To put us off) that places priviledge;
Whence 'twould be harder to compell thee, then
I'th Temple Hall t'arrest a thousand men:
Therefore, for my part, I let fall my suit
With promise, henceforth nere to prosecute.
So though through griefe and creve-cœur, my heart
Within mee die, to thinke that wee must part:
Yet, till our next and happie enterview
I take my leave, now worthy Weld adieu:
Farewell deere Nat, five hundred times farewell;
Who (as thy names few letters say) dost dwell,
Where now thy Maker thou hast long beheld,
(Who by his power Heaven and earth doth weld)
In namelesse peace, and joyes more manifold
Than by my worthlesse tongue can ere be told:
Take this small tribute of my love to thee
In retribution of thy love to mee.
I to thy ingenuitie appeale,
T'accept this handfull of course barly-meale;
And these darke grains of bay-salt, pray thee hold
In worth from him, who better would if could:
Could my abilitie reach thy desert,
The World should know what manner man thou wert.
Within mee die, to thinke that wee must part:
Yet, till our next and happie enterview
I take my leave, now worthy Weld adieu:
Farewell deere Nat, five hundred times farewell;
Who (as thy names few letters say) dost dwell,
Where now thy Maker thou hast long beheld,
(Who by his power Heaven and earth doth weld)
In namelesse peace, and joyes more manifold
Than by my worthlesse tongue can ere be told:
Take this small tribute of my love to thee
In retribution of thy love to mee.
I to thy ingenuitie appeale,
T'accept this handfull of course barly-meale;
And these darke grains of bay-salt, pray thee hold
In worth from him, who better would if could:
Could my abilitie reach thy desert,
The World should know what manner man thou wert.
Suffice it mee that thus my hearts true love
(However homely) I to thee approve;
Nathlesse (how ever meane) in losse of sleepe,
And many private teares, I did them steepe;
With much adoe together them to save,
Till I could sprinkle them upon thy grave.
(However homely) I to thee approve;
Nathlesse (how ever meane) in losse of sleepe,
And many private teares, I did them steepe;
With much adoe together them to save,
Till I could sprinkle them upon thy grave.
Excuse mee here, that so unorderly
My flaggie Muse thus in and out doth flie,
Indenting to and fro, her winding course,
Much like the brooke once parted from his source,
My griefe of this disorder is the cause,
And no disorder ever keeps the Lawes:
For griefe (like love) from reason loves to swerve,
And keepes no meane, ne measure will observe.
My flaggie Muse thus in and out doth flie,
Indenting to and fro, her winding course,
Much like the brooke once parted from his source,
My griefe of this disorder is the cause,
And no disorder ever keeps the Lawes:
21
And keepes no meane, ne measure will observe.
And sith my plaints for thee (whom I so misse)
Unto thy happinesse injurious is,
And bootlesse is for mee, to thinke, and vaine
With teares thee hither to recall againe;
And sith I cannot more (as I wont) walke,
And talke with thee, yet oft of thee to talke
It joyes my heart; and much it comforts mee
To name thee to my selfe, whom more I may not see:
Unto thy happinesse injurious is,
And bootlesse is for mee, to thinke, and vaine
With teares thee hither to recall againe;
And sith I cannot more (as I wont) walke,
And talke with thee, yet oft of thee to talke
It joyes my heart; and much it comforts mee
To name thee to my selfe, whom more I may not see:
Receive this payment, and what I owe more
(As more I knowledge) must run on the score:
Yet hee that payes both what and when hee can
(Which comforts me) is held an honest man.
(As more I knowledge) must run on the score:
Yet hee that payes both what and when hee can
(Which comforts me) is held an honest man.
Much would my love say more; but howsoere,
Thy worth an everlasting subject were,
And with fresh matter could beget my braine,
Nathlesse my griefe doth barren make my vaine,
And shuts up my conceit, that I can say
No more, save Ah, alack, and welladay,
And woe is mee, with such like poore rhyme,
And windie interjections spend the time!
Thy worth an everlasting subject were,
And with fresh matter could beget my braine,
Nathlesse my griefe doth barren make my vaine,
And shuts up my conceit, that I can say
No more, save Ah, alack, and welladay,
And woe is mee, with such like poore rhyme,
And windie interjections spend the time!
Therefore farewell, I ne're so blest shall bee
As to repaire this my deere losse in thee,
A man amongst ten thousand, and a frend
Worthy this pretious name; so I commend
My love to thee, and thee (for ever blest)
To God, and thine eternall happie rest.
As to repaire this my deere losse in thee,
A man amongst ten thousand, and a frend
Worthy this pretious name; so I commend
My love to thee, and thee (for ever blest)
To God, and thine eternall happie rest.
| Phyala Lachrymarum: Or A Few Friendly Teares, shed over the dead Body of Mr Nathaniel Weld Mr of Arts of Emanuel Colledge in Cambridge | |