All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet Being Sixty and three in Number. Collected into one Volume by the Author [i.e. John Taylor]: With sundry new Additions, corrected, reuised, and newly Imprinted |
All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | ||
322
A LIVING SADNES IN DVTY CONSECRATED TO THE IMMORTALL memory of our late Deceased all-beloued Soueraigne Lord, the Peerelesse Paragon of Princes, Iames, King of great Britaine, France and Ireland; who departed this Life at his Manour of Theobalds, on Sunday the 27. of March 1625.
TO THE MOST HIGH AND PVISSENT Prince Charles by the Grace of God, the first of that name, and second Monarch of the whole Iland of Great Britaine.
HIS VNDOVBTED ROYALTIES BEING VNITED VNDER one and the same his most glorious Crowne, the Kingdomes of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland; Gods Immediate Vice-Gerent; Supreme head of all Persons, and Defender of the true, ancient Christian Faith, in these his Empires and Dominions.
Most Mighty Monarch of this mourning Land,Vpon the knees of my submissiue mind:
I begge acceptance at your Royall hand,
That my lamenting Muse may fauour finde.
My Gracious Master was so good, so kinde,
So iust, so much beloued neere and farre:
Which generally did Loue, and Duty binde
From all, and from me in particular.
But as your Maiesty vndoubted are,
The Heire vnto his Vertues and his Crowne:
I pray, that whether Heauen send Peace or Warre,
You likewise may inherit his Renowne.
And as Death strucke his Earthly Glory downe,
Left you in Maiesty, and mourning Chiefe:
Yet through the World apparantly 'tis knowne,
Your Sorrow is an vniuersall Griefe.
Let this recomfort then your Princely heart,
That in this Duty all men beares a part.
Your Maiesties most humble and obedient
Subiect and Seruant: Iohn Taylor.
323
A Funerall Elegie vpon King Iames.
You gushing Torrents of my Tearedrown'd eies,
Sad Partners of my hearts Calamities,
Tempestuous sighs, like winds in prison pent,
(Which wanting vent) my grieued soule hath rent,
Deepe wounding grones (companions of vnrest)
Throngs from the bottome of my care-craz'd brest,
You three, continuall fellowes of my moues,
(My brinish teares, sad sighs and pondrous grones)
I doe intreate you neuere to depart,
But be the true assistants of my heart,
In this great sorrow (that my trembling Quill
Describes) which doth our Lād with mourning fill,
Ah Death! could nought thy hunger satisfie,
But thou must glut thy selfe with Maiesty?
Could nothing thy insatiate thirst restraine,
But Royall blood of our Dread Soueraigne?
In this, thy spight exceeds beyond all bounds,
And at one blow, 3. kingdomes fil'dst with wounds.
When thou that fatall deadly stroake did'st strike,
Then (Death) thou playd'st the tyrant-Catholike.
Our griefes are Vniuersall, and the Summe
Cast vp, the blow doth wound all Christendome.
But wherefore, Death, doe I on thee exclaime?
Thou cam'st in the Eternall Kings great name,
For as no mortall pow'r can thee preuent,
So thou doest neuer come, but thou art sent.
And now thou cam'st vpon vnwelcome wings,
To our best King, from the blest King of Kings,
To summon him to change his earthly throne,
For an Immortall, and a Heauenly one.
(When men vnthankfull for a good receiu'd,
Tis Iust that of that good they be bereau'd)
His gouernement both God and men did please,
Except such spirits, as might complaine of Ease,
Repining Passions wearied with much Rest,
The want to be molested, might molest.
Such men thinke peace a torment, and no trouble
Is worse then trouble, though it should come double.
I speake of such as with our peace were cloyd
Though War I think might well haue bin imploy'd.
True Britaines wish iust warres to entertaine,
(I meane no aide for Spinola or Spaine)
But time and troubles would not suffer it,
Nor Gods appointment would the same permit.
He is inscrutable in all his waies,
And at his pleasure humbleth and will raise,
For patience is a vertue he regardeth,
And in the end with victory rewardeth.
But whither hath my mournefull Muse digrest?
From my beloued Soueraigne Lord decast:
Who was to vs, and we to him, eu'n thus,
Too bad for him, and hee, too good for vs.
For good men in their deaths, 'tis vnderstood,
They leaue the bad, and goe vnto the good.
This was the cause, why God did take from hence,
This most Religious, Learned, Gracious Prince.
This Paragon of Kings, this matchlesse Mirror,
This Faiths defending Antichristian terror;
This Royall all-beloued King of Hearts,
This Patterne, and this Patron of good Arts
This cabinet of mercy, Temperance,
Prudence, and Iustice, that doth man aduance.
This Magazine of Pious Clemency,
This fountaine of true Liberality.
This minde, where vertue daily did increase,
This Peacefull Seruant to the God of Peace,
This second great Apollo, from whose Raies,
Poore Poetry did winne Immortall Baies,
From whence the sacred Sisters, Treble Trine,
Had life and motion, Influence diuine,
These vertues did adorne his Diadem,
And God in taking him, hath taken them.
Of all which Blessings, (we must needs confesse)
We are depriu'd for our vnworthinesse.
A good man's neuer must till he be gone,
And then most vaine and fruitlesse is our mone,
But as Heau'ns fauours downe to vs descended:
So if our thankefulnesse had but ascended,
Had we made Conscience of our waies to sinne,
So soone of him we not depriu'd had bin.
Then let vs not lament his losse so much,
But for our owne vnworthinesse was such.
So from th'vnthankefull Iewes, God in his wrath,
Tooke good Iosias, by vnlook'd for death.
And for our sinnes, our ignorance must know,
We haue procur'd and felt this curelesse blow,
And Christendome, I feare, in losing him,
Is much dismembred, and hath lost a limme.
As by the fruit the tree may be exprest,
His workes declar'd his learning manifest,
Whereby his wisdome wan this great renowne,
That second Salomon wore Britaines crowne,
His pen restrain'd the strong, relieu'd the weake,
And graciously he could write, doe and speake.
He had more force and vigor in his words,
Thē neigh'bring Princes could haue in their swords.
France, Denmarke, Poland, Sweden, Germany,
Spaine, Sauoy, Italy, and Muscouie,
Bohemia, and the fruitfull Palatine,
The Swisses, Grisons, and the Veltoline,
As farre as euer Sol or Luna shin'd
Beyond the Westerne, or the Easterne Inde.
His counsell, and his fauours were requir'd,
Approu'd, belou'd, applauded and admir'd:
When round about the Nations farre and neere,
With cruell bloody warres infested were;
When Mars with sword and fire, in furious rage,
Spoyl'd & consum'd, not sparing sex or age;
Whilst mothers (with great griefe) were childlesse made,
And Sonne 'gainst Sire oppos'd with trenchant blade:
When brother against brother, kinne 'gainst kinne;
Through death and danger did destruction winne.
When murthers mercilesse, and beastly Rapes
Theft, famine (miseries in sundry shapes)
While mischiefs thus great kingdomes ouerwhelm,
Our prudent Steeresman held great Britaines helme,
Conducting so this mighty Ship of state,
That strangers enui'd, and admir'd thereat,
When blessed Peace, with terrour and affright,
Was in a mazed and distracted flight,
By bloody warre, and in continuall Chase,
Cours'd like a fearefull Hare, from place to place:
Not daring any where to shew her head,
She (happily) into this kingdome fled,
Whom Royall Iames did freely entertaine,
And graciously did keepe her all his reigne,
Whilst other Lands (that for her absence mourne)
With sighs and teares doe wish her backe returne.
They finde in losing Her, they lost a blesse,
A hundred Townes in France can witnesse this,
Where Warres compulsion, or else composition,
Did force Obedience, Bondage or Submission,
Fields lay vntild, and fruitfull Land lay waste,
And this was scarcely yet full three yeeres past,
Where these vnciuill ciuill warres destroy'd
Princes, Lords, Captaines, men of Note imploy'd,
One hundred sixty seuen, in number all,
And Common people did past number fall.
These wretches (wearied with these home-bred Iars)
Loue Peace, for being beaten sore with Wars.
Nor doe I heere inueigh against iust Armes,
But 'gainst vniust, vnnaturall Alarmes:
Iust warres are made, to make vniust warres cease,
And in this sort warres are the meanes of Peace.
In all which turmoyles, Britaine was at rest,
No thundring Cannons did our Peace molest.
No churlish Drum, no Rapes, no flattring wounds;
No Trumpets clangor to the Battell sounds,
But euery Subiect here enioy'd his owne,
And did securely reape what they had sowne.
Each man beneath his Fig-tree and his Vine,
In Peace with plenty did both suppe and dine.
O God, how much thy goodnesse doth o'rflow,
Thou hast not dealt with other Nations so!
And all these blessings which from heauen did spring,
Were by our Soueraignes wisdomes managing:
Gods Steward, both in Office, and in name,
And his account was euermore his aime:
The thought from out his minde did seldome slip,
That once he must giue vp his Steward-ship.
His anger written on weake water was,
His Patience and his Loue were grau'd in Brasse.
His Fury like a wandring Starre soone gone,
His Clemency was like a fixed one.
So that as many lou'd him whilst he liu'd,
More then so many by his Death are grieu'd.
The hand of Heauen was onely his support,
And blest him in the Nobles of his Court,
To whom his Bounty was exprest so Royall,
That he these twenty yeeres found none disloyall;
But as bright Iewels of his Diadem,
They faithfully seru'd him, he honour'd them.
And as in life they were on him relying,
So many of them vshered him in dying.
Richmonds and Linox Duke first led the way,
Next Dorsets spirit forsooke her house of Clay.
Then Linox Duke againe, Duke Lodwicks brother
Was third, and good Southampton fourth another.
Lord Wriothsly next Southamptons Noble sonne,
The race of his mortality did runne.
Next dy'd old Charles, true honor'd Nottingham,
(The Brooch and honor of his house and name)
Braue Belsast next, his vitall threed was spun,
And last, the Noble Marquesse Hambleton.
These in the compasse of one yeere went hence,
And led the way to their beloued Prince.
And our deceased Soueraigne quickely went,
To change earths Pompe, for glory permanent.
Like Phœbus in his Course h'arose and ran,
His reigne in March both ended and began.
And as if he had bin a Starre that's fixt,
His Rise and Set were but two daies betwixt,
And once in two and twenty yeeres tis prou'd,
That the most fixed Stars are something shou'd.
But in his end, his Constancy we finde,
He had no mutable or wauering minde:
For that Religion, which his tongue and pen
Did still defend with God, maintaine with men:
That faith which in his Life he did expresse,
He in his Death did constantly professe;
His Treasure and his Iewels, they were such,
As I thinke Englands Kings had ne'r so much.
And still to men of honour and desert,
His Coffers were as open as his heart.
Peace, Patience, Iustice, Mercis, Pietie;
These were his Iewels in variety:
His Treasure alwaies was his Subiects Loue,
Which they still gaue him as th'effects did proue:
Which like to Earths contributary streames,
Paid homage to their Soueraigne Ocean, Iames:
He knew, that Princes Treasure to be best,
That's layd vp in the loyall Subiects brest;
And onely 'twas the riches of the minde,
To which he couetously was inclinde.
Thus was he blest in Person, blest in State,
Blest in his first, and his in latter date:
Blest in his education, blest in's learning,
Blest in his wisdome, good and ill discerning,
Blest in his marriage, and in his royall Race,
But blessed most of all in Gods high grace.
He did his God deuoutly serue and feare.
He lou'd him, and he held his loue most deare:
He honour'd and obeyde him faithfully;
He in his fauour liu'd, and so did dye:
His duty vnto God hee knew the way
And meanes, to make his Subiects him obey:
He knew that if he seru'd his God, that then
He should be seru'd, and fear'd, and lou'd of men:
And that if he Gods Statutes did respect,
That men would feare his Statutes to neglect.
Thus his Obedience vpward, did bring downe
Obedience to his Person and his Crowne.
He did aduance the good, supprest the bad,
Relieu'd the poore, and comforted the sad:
The widdow, and the orphant fatherlesse,
He often hath suppli'd in their distresse,
For why, to rich and poore, to great and small,
He was a common Father vnto all.
His affability and Princely parts,
Made him a mighty Conquerour of Hearts:
Offenders whom the law of life depriues,
His mercy pardon'd and preseru'd their liues:
To prisoners, and poore captiues miserie,
Hee was a Magazine of charity:
For losses that by sea, or fire did come,
He hath bestowed many a liberall summe.
Besides for Churches, it most plaine appeares,
That more hath bin repair'd in twenty yeeres,
(In honour of our God and Sauiours name)
Then in an hundred yeeres before he came.
Our ancient famous Vniuersities,
Diuine, and Humane learnings Nurseries:
Such dewes of grace, as the Almighties will,
Was pleased (through those Limbecks) to distill.
Which (spight of Romish rage, or Satans hate)
Hath caus'd the glorious Gospell propogate:
Our (light of learning) Iames, did still protect them,
And as a nursing Father did affect them.
Thus was Hee, for our soules, and bodies health,
Defender of both Church, and Common-wealth.
For Ireland, he hath much reduc'd that nation,
Churches with land endow'd caus'd much plantation.
Whereby Ciuility is planted there,
The Kings obedience, and th'Almighties feare.
These deeds this worthy godly Prince hath done,
For which he hath perpetuall praises wonne.
Sad Partners of my hearts Calamities,
Tempestuous sighs, like winds in prison pent,
(Which wanting vent) my grieued soule hath rent,
Deepe wounding grones (companions of vnrest)
Throngs from the bottome of my care-craz'd brest,
You three, continuall fellowes of my moues,
(My brinish teares, sad sighs and pondrous grones)
I doe intreate you neuere to depart,
But be the true assistants of my heart,
In this great sorrow (that my trembling Quill
Describes) which doth our Lād with mourning fill,
Ah Death! could nought thy hunger satisfie,
But thou must glut thy selfe with Maiesty?
Could nothing thy insatiate thirst restraine,
But Royall blood of our Dread Soueraigne?
In this, thy spight exceeds beyond all bounds,
And at one blow, 3. kingdomes fil'dst with wounds.
When thou that fatall deadly stroake did'st strike,
Then (Death) thou playd'st the tyrant-Catholike.
Our griefes are Vniuersall, and the Summe
Cast vp, the blow doth wound all Christendome.
But wherefore, Death, doe I on thee exclaime?
Thou cam'st in the Eternall Kings great name,
For as no mortall pow'r can thee preuent,
So thou doest neuer come, but thou art sent.
And now thou cam'st vpon vnwelcome wings,
To our best King, from the blest King of Kings,
To summon him to change his earthly throne,
For an Immortall, and a Heauenly one.
(When men vnthankfull for a good receiu'd,
Tis Iust that of that good they be bereau'd)
His gouernement both God and men did please,
Except such spirits, as might complaine of Ease,
Repining Passions wearied with much Rest,
The want to be molested, might molest.
Such men thinke peace a torment, and no trouble
Is worse then trouble, though it should come double.
I speake of such as with our peace were cloyd
Though War I think might well haue bin imploy'd.
True Britaines wish iust warres to entertaine,
(I meane no aide for Spinola or Spaine)
But time and troubles would not suffer it,
Nor Gods appointment would the same permit.
He is inscrutable in all his waies,
And at his pleasure humbleth and will raise,
For patience is a vertue he regardeth,
And in the end with victory rewardeth.
But whither hath my mournefull Muse digrest?
From my beloued Soueraigne Lord decast:
Who was to vs, and we to him, eu'n thus,
Too bad for him, and hee, too good for vs.
For good men in their deaths, 'tis vnderstood,
They leaue the bad, and goe vnto the good.
This was the cause, why God did take from hence,
This most Religious, Learned, Gracious Prince.
This Paragon of Kings, this matchlesse Mirror,
This Faiths defending Antichristian terror;
This Royall all-beloued King of Hearts,
This Patterne, and this Patron of good Arts
This cabinet of mercy, Temperance,
Prudence, and Iustice, that doth man aduance.
This Magazine of Pious Clemency,
This fountaine of true Liberality.
This minde, where vertue daily did increase,
This Peacefull Seruant to the God of Peace,
This second great Apollo, from whose Raies,
Poore Poetry did winne Immortall Baies,
From whence the sacred Sisters, Treble Trine,
Had life and motion, Influence diuine,
These vertues did adorne his Diadem,
And God in taking him, hath taken them.
Of all which Blessings, (we must needs confesse)
We are depriu'd for our vnworthinesse.
A good man's neuer must till he be gone,
And then most vaine and fruitlesse is our mone,
But as Heau'ns fauours downe to vs descended:
So if our thankefulnesse had but ascended,
Had we made Conscience of our waies to sinne,
So soone of him we not depriu'd had bin.
Then let vs not lament his losse so much,
But for our owne vnworthinesse was such.
So from th'vnthankefull Iewes, God in his wrath,
Tooke good Iosias, by vnlook'd for death.
And for our sinnes, our ignorance must know,
We haue procur'd and felt this curelesse blow,
And Christendome, I feare, in losing him,
Is much dismembred, and hath lost a limme.
As by the fruit the tree may be exprest,
His workes declar'd his learning manifest,
Whereby his wisdome wan this great renowne,
That second Salomon wore Britaines crowne,
His pen restrain'd the strong, relieu'd the weake,
And graciously he could write, doe and speake.
He had more force and vigor in his words,
Thē neigh'bring Princes could haue in their swords.
France, Denmarke, Poland, Sweden, Germany,
Spaine, Sauoy, Italy, and Muscouie,
Bohemia, and the fruitfull Palatine,
The Swisses, Grisons, and the Veltoline,
324
Beyond the Westerne, or the Easterne Inde.
His counsell, and his fauours were requir'd,
Approu'd, belou'd, applauded and admir'd:
When round about the Nations farre and neere,
With cruell bloody warres infested were;
When Mars with sword and fire, in furious rage,
Spoyl'd & consum'd, not sparing sex or age;
Whilst mothers (with great griefe) were childlesse made,
And Sonne 'gainst Sire oppos'd with trenchant blade:
When brother against brother, kinne 'gainst kinne;
Through death and danger did destruction winne.
When murthers mercilesse, and beastly Rapes
Theft, famine (miseries in sundry shapes)
While mischiefs thus great kingdomes ouerwhelm,
Our prudent Steeresman held great Britaines helme,
Conducting so this mighty Ship of state,
That strangers enui'd, and admir'd thereat,
When blessed Peace, with terrour and affright,
Was in a mazed and distracted flight,
By bloody warre, and in continuall Chase,
Cours'd like a fearefull Hare, from place to place:
Not daring any where to shew her head,
She (happily) into this kingdome fled,
Whom Royall Iames did freely entertaine,
And graciously did keepe her all his reigne,
Whilst other Lands (that for her absence mourne)
With sighs and teares doe wish her backe returne.
They finde in losing Her, they lost a blesse,
A hundred Townes in France can witnesse this,
Where Warres compulsion, or else composition,
Did force Obedience, Bondage or Submission,
Fields lay vntild, and fruitfull Land lay waste,
And this was scarcely yet full three yeeres past,
Where these vnciuill ciuill warres destroy'd
Princes, Lords, Captaines, men of Note imploy'd,
One hundred sixty seuen, in number all,
And Common people did past number fall.
These wretches (wearied with these home-bred Iars)
Loue Peace, for being beaten sore with Wars.
Nor doe I heere inueigh against iust Armes,
But 'gainst vniust, vnnaturall Alarmes:
Iust warres are made, to make vniust warres cease,
And in this sort warres are the meanes of Peace.
In all which turmoyles, Britaine was at rest,
No thundring Cannons did our Peace molest.
No churlish Drum, no Rapes, no flattring wounds;
No Trumpets clangor to the Battell sounds,
But euery Subiect here enioy'd his owne,
And did securely reape what they had sowne.
Each man beneath his Fig-tree and his Vine,
In Peace with plenty did both suppe and dine.
O God, how much thy goodnesse doth o'rflow,
Thou hast not dealt with other Nations so!
And all these blessings which from heauen did spring,
Were by our Soueraignes wisdomes managing:
Gods Steward, both in Office, and in name,
And his account was euermore his aime:
The thought from out his minde did seldome slip,
That once he must giue vp his Steward-ship.
His anger written on weake water was,
His Patience and his Loue were grau'd in Brasse.
His Fury like a wandring Starre soone gone,
His Clemency was like a fixed one.
So that as many lou'd him whilst he liu'd,
More then so many by his Death are grieu'd.
The hand of Heauen was onely his support,
And blest him in the Nobles of his Court,
To whom his Bounty was exprest so Royall,
That he these twenty yeeres found none disloyall;
But as bright Iewels of his Diadem,
They faithfully seru'd him, he honour'd them.
And as in life they were on him relying,
So many of them vshered him in dying.
Richmonds and Linox Duke first led the way,
Next Dorsets spirit forsooke her house of Clay.
Then Linox Duke againe, Duke Lodwicks brother
Was third, and good Southampton fourth another.
Lord Wriothsly next Southamptons Noble sonne,
The race of his mortality did runne.
Next dy'd old Charles, true honor'd Nottingham,
(The Brooch and honor of his house and name)
Braue Belsast next, his vitall threed was spun,
And last, the Noble Marquesse Hambleton.
These in the compasse of one yeere went hence,
And led the way to their beloued Prince.
And our deceased Soueraigne quickely went,
To change earths Pompe, for glory permanent.
Like Phœbus in his Course h'arose and ran,
His reigne in March both ended and began.
And as if he had bin a Starre that's fixt,
His Rise and Set were but two daies betwixt,
And once in two and twenty yeeres tis prou'd,
That the most fixed Stars are something shou'd.
But in his end, his Constancy we finde,
He had no mutable or wauering minde:
For that Religion, which his tongue and pen
Did still defend with God, maintaine with men:
That faith which in his Life he did expresse,
He in his Death did constantly professe;
His Treasure and his Iewels, they were such,
As I thinke Englands Kings had ne'r so much.
And still to men of honour and desert,
His Coffers were as open as his heart.
Peace, Patience, Iustice, Mercis, Pietie;
These were his Iewels in variety:
His Treasure alwaies was his Subiects Loue,
Which they still gaue him as th'effects did proue:
Which like to Earths contributary streames,
Paid homage to their Soueraigne Ocean, Iames:
He knew, that Princes Treasure to be best,
That's layd vp in the loyall Subiects brest;
325
To which he couetously was inclinde.
Thus was he blest in Person, blest in State,
Blest in his first, and his in latter date:
Blest in his education, blest in's learning,
Blest in his wisdome, good and ill discerning,
Blest in his marriage, and in his royall Race,
But blessed most of all in Gods high grace.
He did his God deuoutly serue and feare.
He lou'd him, and he held his loue most deare:
He honour'd and obeyde him faithfully;
He in his fauour liu'd, and so did dye:
His duty vnto God hee knew the way
And meanes, to make his Subiects him obey:
He knew that if he seru'd his God, that then
He should be seru'd, and fear'd, and lou'd of men:
And that if he Gods Statutes did respect,
That men would feare his Statutes to neglect.
Thus his Obedience vpward, did bring downe
Obedience to his Person and his Crowne.
He did aduance the good, supprest the bad,
Relieu'd the poore, and comforted the sad:
The widdow, and the orphant fatherlesse,
He often hath suppli'd in their distresse,
For why, to rich and poore, to great and small,
He was a common Father vnto all.
His affability and Princely parts,
Made him a mighty Conquerour of Hearts:
Offenders whom the law of life depriues,
His mercy pardon'd and preseru'd their liues:
To prisoners, and poore captiues miserie,
Hee was a Magazine of charity:
For losses that by sea, or fire did come,
He hath bestowed many a liberall summe.
Besides for Churches, it most plaine appeares,
That more hath bin repair'd in twenty yeeres,
(In honour of our God and Sauiours name)
Then in an hundred yeeres before he came.
Our ancient famous Vniuersities,
Diuine, and Humane learnings Nurseries:
Such dewes of grace, as the Almighties will,
Was pleased (through those Limbecks) to distill.
Which (spight of Romish rage, or Satans hate)
Hath caus'd the glorious Gospell propogate:
Our (light of learning) Iames, did still protect them,
And as a nursing Father did affect them.
Thus was Hee, for our soules, and bodies health,
Defender of both Church, and Common-wealth.
For Ireland, he hath much reduc'd that nation,
Churches with land endow'd caus'd much plantation.
Whereby Ciuility is planted there,
The Kings obedience, and th'Almighties feare.
These deeds this worthy godly Prince hath done,
For which he hath perpetuall praises wonne.
Ah! what a gracious Man of God was this?
Mercy and Iustice did each other kisse;
His Affabiutie whilst he did liue,
Did make all men themselues to him to giue.
Thus liu'd Great Iames, and thus great lames did dye,
And dying thus, doth liue Eternally.
With Honour he did liue, and Life forsooke,
With Patience like a Lambe his death he tooke,
And leauing Kingly cares, and Princely paine,
He now inherits an Immortall Reigne:
For royall grieu'd, perplexed Maiesty,
He hath a Crowne of perpetuity:
For miserable Pompe that's transitory,
Hee is aduanc'd to euerlasting glory.
And as he lou'd, and liu'd, and dy'd in Peace,
So he in Peace did quietly decease:
So let him rest in that most blest condition,
That's subiect to no change or intermission;
Whilst we his seruants, of him thus bereft,
With grieued and perplexed hearts are left;
But God in mercy looking on our grife,
Before he gaue the wound, ordain'd reliefe:
Though duteous Sorrow bids vs not forget
This cloud of death, wherein our Sunne did set,
His Sonnes resplendent Maiestie did rise,
Loadstone, and Loadstarre to our hearts and eyes:
He cleares our drooping spirits, he frees our scares,
And (like the Sunne) dries vp our dewey teares.
All those his seruants that lamenting grieue,
King Charles his Grace and fauour doth releeue:
But as they seru'd his Father, so he will
Be their most louing Lord and Soueraigne still,
As they were first to their Master liuing (being dead)
They are releeued, and re-comforted.
Thus Charity doth in succession runne,
A Pious Father leaues a godly Sonne:
Which Sonne his Kingly Gouernment shall passe,
His Kingdomes Father, as his Father was.
For though great Iames iater'd in earth doth lye,
Great Charles his brest intombes his memorie,
And heer's our comforts midst our discontents,
Hee's season'd with his Fathers Documents,
And as th'Almighty was his shield and speare,
Protecting him from danger euery where:
From most vnnaturall foule Conspiracie,
From Powder-plots, and hellish Treachery,
Whilst he both liu'd and dy'd, belou'd, renound,
And Treason did it selfe it selfe confound,
So I inuoke th'Eternall-Prouidence,
To be to Charles a buckler and defence,
Supported onely by the Power Diuine,
As long as Sunne or Moone or Starres shall shine.
Mercy and Iustice did each other kisse;
His Affabiutie whilst he did liue,
Did make all men themselues to him to giue.
Thus liu'd Great Iames, and thus great lames did dye,
And dying thus, doth liue Eternally.
With Honour he did liue, and Life forsooke,
With Patience like a Lambe his death he tooke,
And leauing Kingly cares, and Princely paine,
He now inherits an Immortall Reigne:
For royall grieu'd, perplexed Maiesty,
He hath a Crowne of perpetuity:
For miserable Pompe that's transitory,
Hee is aduanc'd to euerlasting glory.
And as he lou'd, and liu'd, and dy'd in Peace,
So he in Peace did quietly decease:
So let him rest in that most blest condition,
That's subiect to no change or intermission;
Whilst we his seruants, of him thus bereft,
With grieued and perplexed hearts are left;
But God in mercy looking on our grife,
Before he gaue the wound, ordain'd reliefe:
Though duteous Sorrow bids vs not forget
This cloud of death, wherein our Sunne did set,
His Sonnes resplendent Maiestie did rise,
Loadstone, and Loadstarre to our hearts and eyes:
He cleares our drooping spirits, he frees our scares,
And (like the Sunne) dries vp our dewey teares.
All those his seruants that lamenting grieue,
King Charles his Grace and fauour doth releeue:
But as they seru'd his Father, so he will
Be their most louing Lord and Soueraigne still,
As they were first to their Master liuing (being dead)
They are releeued, and re-comforted.
Thus Charity doth in succession runne,
A Pious Father leaues a godly Sonne:
Which Sonne his Kingly Gouernment shall passe,
His Kingdomes Father, as his Father was.
For though great Iames iater'd in earth doth lye,
Great Charles his brest intombes his memorie,
And heer's our comforts midst our discontents,
Hee's season'd with his Fathers Documents,
And as th'Almighty was his shield and speare,
Protecting him from danger euery where:
From most vnnaturall foule Conspiracie,
From Powder-plots, and hellish Treachery,
Whilst he both liu'd and dy'd, belou'd, renound,
And Treason did it selfe it selfe confound,
So I inuoke th'Eternall-Prouidence,
To be to Charles a buckler and defence,
Supported onely by the Power Diuine,
As long as Sunne or Moone or Starres shall shine.
To all that haue Read this Poeme.
I boast not, but his Maiesty that's deadWas many times well pleas'd my lines to read:
326
Were (by his reading) graced and made better;
And howsoeuer they were good, or ill,
His bounty shew'd, he did accept them still:
He was so good and gracious vnto me,
That I the vilest wretch on earth should be,
If, for his sake, I had not writ this Verse,
My last poore dutie, to his Royall Hearse.
Two causes made me this sad Poeme write,
The first my humble dutie did inuite,
The last, to shunne that vice which doth include
All other vices, foule Ingratitude.
FINIS.
All the workes of Iohn Taylor the Water-Poet | ||