A Feast full of sad cheere [by Thomas Churchyard] |
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The Epitaphe of the Right honorable the Earle of Worster that last died,
Knight of the most honorable order of the Garter. |
 | A Feast full of sad cheere |  |
1
The Epitaphe of the Right honorable the Earle of Worster that last died, Knight of the most honorable order of the Garter.
No day so cleere, but brings at length darke night,
Faire flowers doe fade, as fast as they doe groe:
No torch nor lampe, but burnes away their light,
Sunne shines awhile, then vnder clowde doth goe;
The lyfe of man, is heere compared so.
It lasts a space, till borrowed breath be paid:
And then cold corse, in Tombe or graue is laid.
No honor, wealth, nor force, nor wisedomes lore,
Nor famous praise
Prolongs our daies,
VVhen Death drawes neere, and man may liue no more.
Faire flowers doe fade, as fast as they doe groe:
No torch nor lampe, but burnes away their light,
Sunne shines awhile, then vnder clowde doth goe;
The lyfe of man, is heere compared so.
It lasts a space, till borrowed breath be paid:
And then cold corse, in Tombe or graue is laid.
No honor, wealth, nor force, nor wisedomes lore,
Nor famous praise
Prolongs our daies,
VVhen Death drawes neere, and man may liue no more.
The greatest Kings, are onely borne to die,
Like poorest men, their passage hence they take:
And noble Earles, that sits in honor hie,
And all estates, of life an end must make;
Yet waile I will, for worthy Worsters sake,
His loyall loue, to Prince and Country such:
As in our age, can not be praisd too much.
In Wales well likt, in England honord still
For lordly minde,
And hart most kinde
To all his friendes: which wan the worlds good will.
Like poorest men, their passage hence they take:
And noble Earles, that sits in honor hie,
And all estates, of life an end must make;
Yet waile I will, for worthy Worsters sake,
His loyall loue, to Prince and Country such:
As in our age, can not be praisd too much.
In Wales well likt, in England honord still
For lordly minde,
And hart most kinde
To all his friendes: which wan the worlds good will.
2
Brought vp in Court, among the Princely sort,
Of manner milde, as his estate might forde:
Held stately house, with traine and princely port,
Right spare of speech, yet wise and waer in word;
Most glad of guestes, and pleasant at his boord.
Full franck and free, where things were nobly spent:
To each degree, of nature throw-well bent.
As though a spring in Ragland Castle were,
To pleasure those
That bounty knowes,
And had desire to draw sweet water there.
Of manner milde, as his estate might forde:
Held stately house, with traine and princely port,
Right spare of speech, yet wise and waer in word;
Most glad of guestes, and pleasant at his boord.
Full franck and free, where things were nobly spent:
To each degree, of nature throw-well bent.
As though a spring in Ragland Castle were,
To pleasure those
That bounty knowes,
And had desire to draw sweet water there.
This Earle had ioy, to haue his stable fild,
With faire great Horse, that were for seruice fit:
And was himselfe, in ryding as well skild,
As any man, that myght in saddle sit;
Could vse the Horse, with euery kinde of bit.
On horse and hound, had much desire to looke:
In building to, a great delight he tooke.
In all good gifts, and artes had sure some sight,
Like noble man,
That now and than
Could passe off time, with matters graue or light.
With faire great Horse, that were for seruice fit:
And was himselfe, in ryding as well skild,
As any man, that myght in saddle sit;
Could vse the Horse, with euery kinde of bit.
On horse and hound, had much desire to looke:
In building to, a great delight he tooke.
In all good gifts, and artes had sure some sight,
Like noble man,
That now and than
Could passe off time, with matters graue or light.
And whan best proofe, of him good people had,
A sicknes came, and tooke him hence in hast:
The newes whereof, makes friendes & neighbors sad,
Who hopes his soule, the heauens haue imbrast;
Loe Lordings all, how heere our time we waste.
Our daies are short, our race is quickly run:
We slip away, like shadow in the Sun.
To day on foote, to morrow downe in graue,
From world we goe
Both hie and loe,
All Adams seede no better surety haue.
A sicknes came, and tooke him hence in hast:
The newes whereof, makes friendes & neighbors sad,
Who hopes his soule, the heauens haue imbrast;
Loe Lordings all, how heere our time we waste.
Our daies are short, our race is quickly run:
We slip away, like shadow in the Sun.
To day on foote, to morrow downe in graue,
From world we goe
Both hie and loe,
All Adams seede no better surety haue.
FINIS.
| A Feast full of sad cheere | |