Aue Caesar God saue the King. The ioyfull Ecchoes of loyall English hartes, entertayning his Maiesties late ariuall in England. With an Epitaph vpon the death of her Maiestie our late Queene [by Samuel Rowlands] |
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An Epitaph on the death of her most Royall
Maiestie, our late Queene.
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 | Aue Caesar |  |
An Epitaph on the death of her most Royall Maiestie, our late Queene.
Sacred Celestiall Deities Diuine,Mortall's that do proceed of humane line,
All you that know what griefes and sorrowes bee,
Come and teare-wash an Empresse Tombe with mee.
Melpomene thou tragike dolefull Muse,
Put on some blacke, which thou did'st neuer vse,
And in the saddest Sable can be had;
Let all thy Sisters in the like be clad:
Their liquid Pearles in plentie we must borrow,
Because it is no common vsuall sorrow.
And of her Ashes there remeyneth none:
The Pellican that did her young-ones good,
Hath yeelded all her vitall streames of blood.
Cynthia that gaue the World a glorious shine,
Shall neuer more be seene with mortall eyen:
The fayrest Rose, the sweetest Princely Flower,
Lyes with'red now by Death's coold nipping power.
You spirits of the highest Element,
You heauenly sparkes of wit, with one consent
Conioyne, and from the treasurie of Artes,
Giue honour to the Queene of good-desartes:
The reuerent Lady, Nurse of all our Land,
That sway'd a Sword like Iudeth's, in her hand.
The Debora that iudged Israell:
Whose blessed actions God did prosper well:
She that did neuer purpose wrong to any,
Though iniuries to her, were done by many.
She that no longer rule on earth did craue,
Then best, and most desired, she might haue.
She that with Mercyes winges adorn'd her Throne,
And yet with Iustice ballance fate thereon.
Report her Prayse to all haue eares to heare it,
Let from the Earth, her fame to Heauen sounde,
Let from the Heauen, her fame to Earth rebounde:
Let through the Ocean waues pronounce the same,
And whirling windes be agentes of her Fam:
Let Heauen, Aire, the Ocean, and the Earth,
With Ecchoes sound blessed Elizabeth.
Yea let the very Stones where shee shall lie,
Tell ages following, this of ours gone by:
Within our marble armes we do enclose
The virgin Queene, the White and Red-crown'd Rose,
That rul'd this Realme so happy, fourtie fowre,
As neuer Prince did raigne the like before.
From Men, with Sainctes shee liues in high esteeme,
Seated in blisse, which best doth her esteeme.
S. R.
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