A garden of graue and godlie flowers Sonets, elegies, and epitaphs. Planted, polished, and perfected: By Mr. Alexander Gardyne |
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TO A COVRAGIOVS YOVNG MAN William Keith,
who for his Countries honour, slew an Englishman and suffered for the same.
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 | A garden of graue and godlie flowers |  |
TO A COVRAGIOVS YOVNG MAN William Keith, who for his Countries honour, slew an Englishman and suffered for the same.
1
Wold not the Ghost of that great Greek be glade,That paind so much to pen a Pagans praise,
Jf he the happines, or honor had
To be a liue, now dead into thir daies,
To make his tongue a trump t'impen and blase
Through all the Anguls of the Vniverse,
Into most loftie, and most learned layes,
And in more then his wonted wondrous verse,
To cause couragious Keyth thy praise to perse,
Als well the Spheirs, as that lowe place of paine,
And in thy honor here vpon thy Herse,
To leaue thir lyn's for ever to remaine:
Here lyes a youth, who for his Countreys cause
A Saxon slew, sine suffred be the Laws.
2
To silence time, thy praise shall never put,Nor once Envy thy ventrous worth shall wrong,
No though the graue vpon thy gore doe glut
Whill man is man, thy laud shall liue so long,
Thy fact to Fame sure shall become a song,
And valiant Will'am thou shall ever more,
Be memoriz'd, and mentioned among,
Those Gallants that haue gaind and gotten glore,
Thy famous friends for fensing a-before,
As Cronicles, their kinde, for to decore,
And Kamus Crosse, their vpset Trophies choes:
So with thy Friends, thy Fame shall flee stout Keith,
Altho thou boghtit dearlie with thy deith.
3
What was his kindnes and his courage keene,Belgick thy broyls, a Record best can bair,
Where he broght vp neere from his Birth hes beene,
Nought bot to make his martiall minde grow mair,
Wherefore thou justlie should erect, and rear
To Mars his Man, a martiall Monument,
Since that he as a sojour serving thair,
Into thy querrell willing, and content,
His Blood oft-tims in thy employments spent.
And this more too, to grace and do thee good,
Vpon thy foes, thy praises he did prent.
In Crimson Red, and Characters of blood.
To honor him, then thou hes mater much,
And of our Soyle full many thousands such.
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