University of Virginia Library

An Epytaphe of Maister Thomas Phayre.

The hawtye verse, yt Maro wrote
made Rome to wonder muche
And meruayle none for why the Style
and waightynes was suche,
That all men iudged Parnassus Mownt
had clefte her selfe in twayne,
And brought forth one, that seemd to drop
from out Mineruaes brayne.
But wonder more, maye Bryttayne great
wher Phayre dyd florysh late,
And barreyne tong with swete accord
reduced to suche estate:
That Virgils verse hath greater grace
in forrayne foote obtaynde,
Than in his own. who whilst he lyued
eche other Poets staynde.
The Noble H. Hawarde once,
that raught eternall fame,
With mighty Style, did bryng a pece
of Virgils worke in frame,
And Grimaold gaue the lyke attempt,
and Douglas wan the Ball,
Whose famouse wyt in Scottysh ryme
had made an ende of all.
But all these same dyd Phayre excell,
I dare presume to wryte,
As muche as doth Appolloes Beames,
the dymmest Starre in lyght.
The enuyous fates (O pytie great,)
had great disdayne to se,
That vs amongst there shuld remayn
so fyne a wyt as he,
And in the mydst of all his toyle,
dyd force hym hence to wende,
And leaue a Worke vnperfyt so,
that neuer man shall ende.