The Epitaphe of the honourable Earle of Penbroke Baron of Cardiffe, and Knight of the most Noble order of the garter. Who dyed Lord stueward of the Queenes maiesties houshold, and of her priuie counsell [by Thomas Churchyard] |
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 | The Epitaphe of the honourable Earle of Penbroke |  |
The Epitaphe of the honorable Earle of Penbroke, Baron of Cardiffe, and Knight of the most Noble order of the garter. Who dyed Lord stueward of the Queenes maiesties houshold, and of her priuie counsell.
Since playnts want power to perce the skyes, or rayes the dead from graue,No teares nor sighes may well suffies, to wayle the losse we haue.
Then lordings wype your blobbred eyen, and sobb no more alas:
For death and deastnye doth assigne, all lyfe lyke shade shall passe.
No seat nor Scepture certayne is, the hye and lowe a lyke:
In spight of pompe and worldly blis, fall both amid the dyke.
But when a propp that stayde the state, dropps downe as you do see:
The lokers on in muse do stand, at crack of such a tree.
Which leaues the world in moorning weeds, behynd to weepe the losse,
(Whyles frute is fled from brantch and bowe, as gold forsakes the drosse)
O Penbroke wilt thou part so sone, what hast hath hyed thee hence:
Had I byn warnd I had perfuemd, thy Tombe with frankinsence.
But cald so swiftly to my pen, the sweete insence I want:
yet sweare I by the sacred Gods, though skill and sence be skant.
Thou shalt not hyde in clotts of claye, thy ritch rare gyftes of kynd,
Nor skrawlling wormes shall make no praye, apon thy noble mind,
The Court that knew thy constant hart, bydds thee returne againe,
That art for troth and freendshipp fast, a parfect pattern plaine.
A father where the counsell sate of tongue and talke deuine,
As he at byrth had stolne the grace, of all the Musis nine.
His lookes dyd speake when silent lipps, lockt vp great thinges in head,
yea eu'ry word past Penbrokes mouth, peysd well a pound of lead.
No lightnes lodged in his browes, and sure a man in deede,
That well might tyes from Troyians race, and honour Hectors seede.
Of nature noble voyd of blott, in Court and countrey throwe:
As curteys as the lyttell Lambe, or Faucon gentyll nowe.
In bountie dyd his harte abound, where cause made place before:
Not wonne by feare, but held by loue, what might be wished more.
To such as fau'red learnings lore, (though he no schole poynt knew)
His pursse and hand as closly crept, as hauke weare clapt in mew.
To those that seemd somwhat to be, whose harts he sawe aspier:
He gaue good hope in signe of happ, to further there desier.
To Prince and countrey true as steell, no blast could beare him downe,
He kept his promise fayth and oth, in Court, in feeld and towne.
Deuout to God his lyfe well showes, his death doth that declare,
On Christ alone, the corner stone, he onely layd his care.
O manly Penbroke yet me thinks, I see thee martch vpright,
Thy iesture and thy iolly port, stands still before my sight.
Thy cleanly tinenes trimly framd, sprang out of noble brest:
And all thou didst within thy dayes, a noble mind exprest.
But nothing here so cleane or gay, can kepe the lyfe alyue,
Both wealth and Lordshipp leapes away, when death out date doth dryue.
yet death when he hath done his worst, dare not molest the spreete:
That God doth clayme and angels thinke, for Abrams bosome meete.
FINIS.
A verse of farwell.
I lost a friend, you lost no lesse, who least lost, lost to much,Who lookes to light vpon the lyke, in Court shall find fewe such.
Quoth Churchyard.
| The Epitaphe of the honourable Earle of Penbroke | |