An Epitaph on the death, of the Right honorable and vertuous Lord Henry Wrisley the Noble Earle of South hampton: who lieth interred at Touchfeelde in the Countie of Hamshyre, the 30. day of Nouember 1581. and in the 24. yeare of our most drad and Soueraigne Ladie Elizabeth by the grace of God, of England, Fraunce & Ireland Queene. &c. [by John Phillips] |
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 | An Epitaph on the death, of the Right honorable and vertuous Lord Henry Wrisley |  |
An Epitaph on the death, of the Right honorable and vertuous Lord Henry Wrisley, the Noble Earle of South hampton:
who lieth interred at Touchfeelde in the Countie of Hamshyre, the 30. day of Nouember 1581 and in the 24. yeare of our most drad and Soueraigne Ladie Elizabeth by the grace of God, of England, Fraunce & Ireland Queene. &c.
You noble Peeres refraine,Your courtly sportes awhyle:
Cast on your wailefull weedes of woe,
Dame pleasure doo exile.
Beholde a platforme playne,
Of death, fit for the Graue:
Who late inioyed a lyuing Soule, as you this season haue.
His birth right noble was, honour beset him rounde:
But Death amidst his lustie yeeres, hath shrind him in ye ground.
When time is come he waightes, according Gods decree:
To conquer lyfe, respecting not the mightiest in degree.
Intreatie cannot serue, Death seekes no golden gift:
For from his reache no potentate, to flye can make the shift.
The Glasse runne forth at large, the howre fully spent:
To share lifes thred a sunder hee, by mightie Ioue is sent.
The daunce of Death no King, nor Kayser but must trace:
The Duke, the Earle, the Lord & knight to him must yeeld a place
The aged olde, the midle sort, the lustie youth in prime:
To liue on earth cannot inioy, the certentie of time.
For as time hath no staie, but fleeteth euerie howre:
So is the lyfe of mortall men, compared to a flowre.
Whose beautie knowne to daie, to morrow fadeth quight:
And vanisheth, as though therof, Man neuer had ye sight,
So fickle is our state, we fading Flowres bee:
To daie aliue, to morrow dead, according Gods decree.
Of lyfe no Charters giuen, to any worldly wight:
Oh who can say that he shall liue, from morne vnto the night.
He that at fyrst gaue lyfe, of lyfe will beare the sway:
And when him lykes, as pleaseth him, will take this lyfe away.
Sith he workes all in all, and rules as seemes him best:
Lets learne that earth we are, and earth to claime her owne is prest.
The perfect proofe wherof, apparently is seene:
By this good Earle, whose lusty yeeres, did florish faire & greene.
But in a moment chaunged, and withered lyke the haie:
Bereft of lyfe and honor great, and coutched close in claie.
Yet though he sencelesse lye, South hamtons Earle by name:
Yet death in him lyes dead no doubt, by meanes of noble fame.
For whilst on earth he liu'de, to vertue he was bent:
And after wisdomes lore to hunt, he gaue his frank consent.
In Iustice was his ioye, and iustly he did deale:
As they can tell that for his aide, had cause for to appeale.
The widow poore opprest, he carefully did shield:
And to the Orphane in his right, did dayly comfort yeeld.
The needie poore he fed, with Mutton, Bread and Beeffe:
His hand was neuer slack to giue, the comfortlesse releefe.
The naked back to cloth, he euer ready was:
No needy poore without reward, frō this Earles gates could pas.
His House keeping right good, there plentie bare the sway:
No honest man forbidden was, within his house to staie.
His faith brought foorth sweete fruite, the Lord God to delight:
And made him as a seruant good, accepted in his sight.
Unto his tennauntes poore, this Earle was euer kinde:
To work their weale, he carefully did alwaies yeeld his minde.
Inhaunsing of his rentes, did ne enlarge his store:
He alwaies had a care to help, and aide his Farmers pore.
His seruauntes weale to worke, no time he did forbeare:
To doo them good that wel deseru'd, his zeale did still appeare,
On God his hart was set, in Christ his hope, did rest:
And of the mightie Lord of hoastes, this noble Earle was blest.
To Prince he was most iust, to countrie alwaies true:
The fruites of loue and loyaltie, in him all states might view.
In wedlock hee obserued, the vow that he had made:
In breach of troth through lewd lust, he ne would seeme to wade
Thrice happy thou, of God and man belou'de:
That euer soughtst to make a peace, where discorde striffe had mou'd.
Though thou from vs begone and taken hence by death:
Among the sonnes of mortal men, thy prayse shall liue on earth.
For as thy lyfe was iust, so godly was thy ende:
Not on this world, but on sweet Christ, thou alwaies didst depend
And as in health his name, thou reuerently didst praise:
So in his feare in sicknesse thou, didst spend thy lotted daies,
This world thou heldst as vaine, thy lyfe thou thoughtest no losse:
In hope of Heauen & heauenly blisse, yu deemst al things but dros.
This houering still in hope, to heauen thou tookst thy flyght,
wherewith thy Christ the Iueller, of ioy thy hart is pight.
And he in extreeme paine, when anguish did abounde:
To giue thee comfort from aboue, was euer ready found.
Amidst his mercie he, though iustice wrought thy smart:
Euen lyke a louing sauiour, did alwaies take thy part.
When Sathan, sinne, and death, about thee round were set:
To pray for thee most earnestly, he neuer did forget.
And like a Souldier iust, by faith thou foughtst the Feelde:
And armst thy self gainst all thy foes, to whom yu woldst not yeeld
But so didst keepe the fort, that all thy foes did flye:
And lyke a lambe in Iesus Christ, preparedst thy selfe to die.
Of Court thou takest thy leaue, thy Prince thou bidst farewell,
for whose estate thou praydst to God, her enemies to quell.
The Noble Peeres eche one, with hart thou bidst adue:
And praiedst that they to glad her hart, may loyaltie ensue.
Of all thy louing friendes, thou takest a fynall leaue:
And vnto God most constantly, for comfort thou doest cleaue,
Thy noble children thou, right louingly doest blesse:
To Seruants all thou giuest adue, they may thee not possesse.
From them thou doest prepare, thy passage straight to make:
And vnto Christ with cheareful voice, thy soule thou doest betake
Who with outstretched armes, receiues it to his grace:
And with his saintes, in glorie great, appointes the happye place.
Thy freendes thy losse lament, thy Children waile and weepe,
To see their Father and their freend, in Clay inclosed deepe.
Thy seruants streme foorth teares, they wring their wofull handes:
to see that all to soone of lyfe, death hath desolued the bandes,
His Tennants all doo mourne, their smoking sobs abounde,
And to the skies the needie poore, their pitious plaints resounde.
Their foster freend from them, by death they say is hent:
whose want in Court & towne eche where, both old & yong lamēt.
But teares are spent in vaine, though they suppose him dead:
He liues in Heauen where Iesus Christ, with glory crownes his head.
And thus right noble Earle, thy last adue receiue:
To thine auaile behinde thee thou, good name & fame doest leaue.
Which so shall conquer death, that death in thee shall die:
and more the Sonnes of mortall men, to heaue thy praise to skie.
Omnis caro fenum.
(quoth) Iohn Phillip.
| An Epitaph on the death, of the Right honorable and vertuous Lord Henry Wrisley | |