An Epitaph, or funerall inscription, vpon the godlie life and death of the Right worshipfull Maister William Lambe Esquire Founder of the new Conduborne, &c. Deceased the one and twentith of April, and intumbed in S. Faiths Church under Povvles the sixt of Maie next and immediatly following. Anno. 1580. Deuised by Abraham Fleming |
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 | An Epitaph, or funerall inscription, vpon the godlie life and death of the Right worshipfull Maister William Lambe Esquire |  |
An Epitaph, or funerall inscription, vpon the godlie life and death of the Right worshipfull Maister William Lambe Esquire, Founder of the new Condu borne, &c. Deceased the one and twentith of April, and intumbed in S. Faiths Church vnder Povvles, the sixt of Maie next and immediatly follovving.
Anno. 1580. Deuised by Abraham Fleming.
All
flesh is grasse, the
Scripture saith, and vadeth like a flowre,
And nothing to be permanent, can vaunt it hath the powre.
The fairest and the foulest thing, that any man can name,
Hath but a time to liue and die, in honour or in shame.
No artificiall workemanship, no notable deuise,
No valiant act, no noble deede, no puissant enterprise,
But as in time triumphantly, it challengeth renowne,
Euen so in time from honours hight, at last it tumbleth downe.
The doubtfull state of mortall man, an argument may bee,
That nothing is perpetuall, which glansing eie doeth see,
But transitorie, fraile, and vaine, as time demandes his fee,
The Sunne & Moone shall haue their chaunge, though gloriously they shine,
The glistering Starres in firmament, from brightnes shall decline,
The scattered cloudes, like winding worme, or scortched parchment scroll,
Shall shrinke together, as in skies they are constraind to roll.
Then, sith celestiall creatures state, so alterable is,
That vaine we count each earthlie thing, I iudge it not amis.
We see the seasons of the yeare, successiuely insue,
First nipping Winters blustring blasts, with frosts as stiffe as glue,
Then pleasant Spring with colours clad, of yellow, greene, and blue:
Next which comes ripening Summer in, and then doth follow fast,
Quicke Haruest for the husbandman, t'acquite his charges past,
No time hath this prerogatiue, for euermore to last.
Lo thus in circle runs the yeare, with compasse round about,
And his appointed age the world, by portions weareth out.
Count what we can most excellent, needes must it haue an ende,
Against decay there is no force, nor fortresse to defende.
How many Cities stately built, of timber, lime and stone,
Are come to naught, and in their place a desert left alone?
Pompe maketh not perpetuall, although it beare a port,
A Maigame I may name it well, a pastime and a sport,
Whose glorie glides and slips away, whose pleasure is but short.
Like Plaiers in an Enterlude, vpon a common stage,
One representing lustie youth, another crooked age,
One royall Principalitie, another Courtlie state,
One like a Iudge doth sit on bench, another begges at gate,
Thus counterfet they all degrees, vntill the play be donne:
Euen so is man vpon the earth, since first his stocke begonne.
For Adam, though he liued long, yet dead he was at last,
The Patriarchs and Prophets olde, their pilgrimage haue past:
Kings haue resigned vp their crownes, and titles of their thrones,
And many a politike Gouernour in graue hath laid his bones,
This proue the sundrie writings set, on their Sepulchre stones.
The wisedome of the wise is vaine, the strong mans strength a toy,
If they by them as instruments, seeke length of life t'enioy:
And as for wealth, it is but winde, for riches haue no holde,
The monied man must thinke to die, if once he waxeth olde.
Lo, lo, a present patterne here, all you that list to learne,
By viewing of this corps corrupt, what you shall be discearne.
Sometime he was, as others be, a quicke and liuing man,
But wounded with the dart of death, reuiue him nothing can.
His youthfull yeares, as others haue, this good Esquire hath had,
And crooked age by creeping on, with weakenesse sicke and sad,
In winding sheete at head and foote, fast knit his corps hath clad.
Rich in his life, poore at his death, a steward of the Lordes,
His talent Christianly laide out, with Gods good will accordes.
And as in th' Actes, Cornelius deedes, beare witnesse of his faith,
(For outwarde workes before the world, beleefe within bewraith:)
So this religious Gentleman, a Patrone to the poore,
In allies and in lanes abrode, at home in th' entrie doore,
In open streete, in holie Church, in many a corners crooke,
(Where, for the poore and impotent, whom kith and kin forsooke,
With charitable zeale inflamde, this lowelie Lambe did looke,)
His almes he hath distributed, and giuen as he sawe neede,
Cloth for the backe, meate for the mouth, the hungrie soule to feede.
As louing as a Lambe he liud, and verifide his name,
He was an eie vnto the blind, a legge vnto the lame,
A comfort to the comfortles, a succour to the sicke,
A father to the fatherles, whome nipping neede did pricke,
A husband to the desolate, and widowe left alone,
A fauourer and a freend to all, an enimie to none.
Now such as had his wooll to weare, lament of him the lacke,
His flesh did fill their bellies full, his fleese kept warme their backe,
His pence and pounds preserued them, from many a wringing wracke.
No misse of mercie was in him, for iointly hart and hand,
Were pliant to supplie the wantes, of many in this land.
For this he knew, by giuing them, he lent vnto the Lord:
His humblenes no homelines, of sicklie soule abhord.
So that I may conclude of him, as needes conclude I must,
If workes may simply of themselues, make righteous men and iust,
(Which I denie, for vnto faith this office is assinde:)
Then is he sanctifide from sinne, and cleansd in hart and minde.
The fruites of faith which flourished, in him whiles he did liue,
His diuerse distributions, and giftes which he did giue,
The monuments which he hath left, behind him being ded,
Are signes that Christ our Shepherd hath, vnto his sheepfold led,
This louing Lambe, who like a Lambe dide meekely in his bed:
His bodie buried in the ground, there to consume to dust,
His soule in Abrahams bosome restes, in quietnesse I trust:
A place allotted vnto Lambs, there to possesse in peace,
Such blessings as this Lambe enioyes, whose like the Lord increase,
For Iesus sake the spotlesse Lambe. And here my penne shall cease.
[As Euening shadowe slides]
As Euening shadowe slides,And Seas do varie tides,
So all the pranking prides,
Of worldlie glorie glides:
Gods worde, the guide of guides,
For euermore abides.
| An Epitaph, or funerall inscription, vpon the godlie life and death of the Right worshipfull Maister William Lambe Esquire | |