University of Virginia Library

Sir William Winter, Knight, his Epitaphe.

What mourning verse or careful cries, shal serue where sadnes floes:
Where soking sighes and blobred eyes, a world of sorrowe shoes.
Be still and mute, ô house of ioy, giue groning griefe some place:
Turne sollace sweet to sowre annoy, that soone is seene in face.
Let gladsome mirth goe where it please, make woe a welcome guest:
Bid each delight and wished ease, dislodge from troubled brest.
Let sports and pleasures silent be, and name no earthly blis:
For heauy harts doe best agree, where death and dollor is.
So if you shape your selues to heare, what did by death befall:
This verse may chaunce to change your cheare, & make you mourne withall.
A knight here lies but late aliue, who purchast pereles praise:
Who nobly long for fame did striue, by seruise sundry waise.
On sea and land a happy man, that bore a Lyons hart:
Who honor wealth & worship wan, throw sword and due desart.
His skill and councell gaue great grace, where martial people were:
And where he shewd his manly face, he put his foes in scare.
A victor that brought conquest home, from many a fight and field:
A Champion that in hard attempts, had rather die then yield.
A chieftain oft that might commaund, both ships & men good store:
A gallant guide that throw would goe, and leade them all before.
His presence promisd good successe of all he tooke in hand:
A cheerefull comfort in distresse, a lode-star of our Lande.
A worthy that had great regard, of charge and liues of men:
A wight in world right well preferd, by sword but not by pen.
Most graue of words and stout of mind, ful constant, firme and fast:
Not turnd like weltring waues with wind, nor sturd by storme or blast.
A targe of proofe to publique state, of iudgement deepe and great:
That could of Countries weale debate, like Sage in Senate seate.
A sparke of Mars by speech & lookes, wherein the world might spy:
A warlike mind a worthy head, a hart and courage hye.
His seruice last on sea declard, what kinde of man he was:
Whose worth is of as great regard, as gold is from the glasse.
VVhat want of him haue we the while, to leese this Iewell now:
VVhose valour showne amid this Ile, lyke pearle in princely brow.
Come Souldiours then with drum and fife, and sound his deere adue:
Lament the losse of Winters life, in black sad mourning hue.
Come Captaines all both rich and poore, with shot & Armor bright.
And traile your Collours on the flowre, in honor of this Knight.
Come wofull babes, come sun and ayre, cast off your garments gay:
And clap on robes of deepe dispaire, to waile this dismall day.
Cold death hath doone vs all this wrong, by griefe that body bred:
For Winter might haue liued long, and had not now beene dead:
If Death gaue not consent thereto, that lyes like priuie watch:
But loe, what Cannon could not doe, Death made thereof dispatch.
Yet at the brūt of all this broyle, whē conscience cast account:
How soone the life should leaue this soile, and where the soule should mount.
He held vp hands with staied thought, to highest clowdes aboue:
And so set all the world at nought, and died as meeke as Doue.
We hope the heauens haue embrast, the soule we could not keepe:
And that by grace is Winter plast, in Abrams brest to sleepe.