A Fvneral Elegie Vpon The Mvch Lamented Death Of The Trespuissant and vnmatchable King, King Iames, King of Great Brittaine, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith. Who to the vniuersall sorrow of the Princes his Allies, his owne Kingdomes and people, expired the 27. of March, Anno 1625. In the yeere of his reigne 23. Written by Thom. Heywood |
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A short Elegie vpon the Anagram. |
 | A Fvneral Elegie |  |
A short Elegie vpon the Anagram.
Thy
Honour's woorthe all praise: 'tis true, the same,
By which we Anagrammatise thy name,
(Thrice Noble Henry) which, let me define
And first shew wherefore Honour, next, why Thyne;
Last from thy Ashes vrne, to build and raise
A Monument to proue it, Woorthe All prayse.
By which we Anagrammatise thy name,
(Thrice Noble Henry) which, let me define
And first shew wherefore Honour, next, why Thyne;
Last from thy Ashes vrne, to build and raise
A Monument to proue it, Woorthe All prayse.
If onely that bare honour here were ment
Which Heraldry allowes thee from discent,
And onely that inherent, vnderstood
Which lineally Nobilitates the blood,
It rankes thee equall with the great'st of Peeres,
Deriuing thee from long forgotten yeeres.
Which Heraldry allowes thee from discent,
And onely that inherent, vnderstood
Which lineally Nobilitates the blood,
It rankes thee equall with the great'st of Peeres,
Deriuing thee from long forgotten yeeres.
But that's thy least (though some affect it most,
(Of that which is not ours, why should we boast?)
The noble seedes in our fore-fathers sowne,
May well be tearm'd our Grandsires, not our owne;
But happy those, their Ruins can repaire,
And husband still, their Names from heire to heire;
Wriothesley was such, in all things striuing
To gaine a Name, by Arts, and Armes: suruiuing
Beyond all Marble, which at this time weepes
Vpon the bed where now this worthy sleepes.
(Of that which is not ours, why should we boast?)
The noble seedes in our fore-fathers sowne,
May well be tearm'd our Grandsires, not our owne;
But happy those, their Ruins can repaire,
And husband still, their Names from heire to heire;
Wriothesley was such, in all things striuing
To gaine a Name, by Arts, and Armes: suruiuing
Beyond all Marble, which at this time weepes
Vpon the bed where now this worthy sleepes.
Cambridge, thy pupillage; thy youth, the Court,
And singularity there can best report:
Of thy braue valour Ireland witnesse can,
Writing thee Souldier, euen as soone as Man.
And what as natiue was in thee begon,
Thy valour left successiue to thy Son
Let Belgia mourne with vs a double losse,
Your gold repur'd thence, you haue left them drosse.
And singularity there can best report:
Of thy braue valour Ireland witnesse can,
Writing thee Souldier, euen as soone as Man.
And what as natiue was in thee begon,
Thy valour left successiue to thy Son
Let Belgia mourne with vs a double losse,
Your gold repur'd thence, you haue left them drosse.
Let me looke backe againe to Ireland; where
Me thinkes I see thee a braue Cheualeere,
Commanding others, and so farre extend
Thy worth; as onely to be tearm'd the friend
Of Noble Essex: such thy friendship was,
Deseruing to be character'd in Brasse
And euer read: shrield with a stentor's breath,
'Twixt you it liu'd, and parted not in death.
Me thinkes I see thee a braue Cheualeere,
Commanding others, and so farre extend
Thy worth; as onely to be tearm'd the friend
Of Noble Essex: such thy friendship was,
Deseruing to be character'd in Brasse
And euer read: shrield with a stentor's breath,
'Twixt you it liu'd, and parted not in death.
Thy patience in thy troubles thousands sing,
Thy innocence, the goodnesse of the King
Crown'd at's inauguration; whose free grace
Suited thy merits both with gifts and place;
And thou whose wisdome seem'd obscur'd but late,
Thought worthy to be Councellor of State,
And honour'd with the Garter: we finde then
Kings through the brest, see more then common men.
Religion, which becomes a Statesman best,
Was in thy bosome planted, and imprest
Without all schisme or faction, charitie,
Deuotion, bounty, noble curtesie,
Which many (sweld and puft with Title) scorne,
These did thy other vertues much adorne.
Thy innocence, the goodnesse of the King
Crown'd at's inauguration; whose free grace
Suited thy merits both with gifts and place;
And thou whose wisdome seem'd obscur'd but late,
Thought worthy to be Councellor of State,
And honour'd with the Garter: we finde then
Kings through the brest, see more then common men.
Religion, which becomes a Statesman best,
Was in thy bosome planted, and imprest
Deuotion, bounty, noble curtesie,
Which many (sweld and puft with Title) scorne,
These did thy other vertues much adorne.
Thy brest of all these Iewels was the Mine,
Markes of true Honor all: And all these Thine.
And since their number farre exceeds thy dayes,
I thus conclude, Thy Honours woorthe all prayse.
Markes of true Honor all: And all these Thine.
And since their number farre exceeds thy dayes,
I thus conclude, Thy Honours woorthe all prayse.
Next him the Noble Hammelton; a Man,
Whom, let detraction doe the worst it can,
With no despightfull callumnie can brand,
A mighty prop and collume of the Land,
Whose death so much lamented well approues
Him dennison'd in all the peoples loues;
Nor was there euer any Northerne Peere
Better deseru'd, or more bewailed here.
Whom, let detraction doe the worst it can,
With no despightfull callumnie can brand,
A mighty prop and collume of the Land,
Whose death so much lamented well approues
Him dennison'd in all the peoples loues;
Nor was there euer any Northerne Peere
Better deseru'd, or more bewailed here.
From these I now descend vnto the last
That followed them in death, the Lord Belfast,
A Souldier and a Counseller of Warre,
Who though he went where no such turmoiles are,
The Fates thought fit to send him, as forerunning
To tell the Saints, the King of peace was comming.
That followed them in death, the Lord Belfast,
A Souldier and a Counseller of Warre,
Who though he went where no such turmoiles are,
The Fates thought fit to send him, as forerunning
To tell the Saints, the King of peace was comming.
Now thou most gracious and all dreaded power,
To whom ten thousand yeeres are as one houre,
And ages lesse then Instants, that in measure
Do'st spare or punish: If thy heauenly pleasure
So thinke it fit (but yet thy will be done)
Spare thou the rest still to attend his Sonne.
To whom ten thousand yeeres are as one houre,
And ages lesse then Instants, that in measure
Do'st spare or punish: If thy heauenly pleasure
Spare thou the rest still to attend his Sonne.
How may we best consider this great crosse,
So many lands lament, vnlesse the losse
We rate at highest: and to vndertake
That taske, it were impossible: To make
Value of lands we may, of gold, of treasures,
Iewels, and Honour, nay of wealth and pleasures,
Set a full price of our owne liues we may,
And how much we esteeme them. Nay euen they
That enioy Scepters, Crownes, and Kingly state,
May their great glories and abundance rate,
But neuer Him: All these, man may enioy,
Which if he lose, it can but one destroy;
But this priuation is so generall,
(As if all were but one, it toucheth all.)
So many lands lament, vnlesse the losse
We rate at highest: and to vndertake
That taske, it were impossible: To make
Value of lands we may, of gold, of treasures,
Iewels, and Honour, nay of wealth and pleasures,
Set a full price of our owne liues we may,
And how much we esteeme them. Nay euen they
That enioy Scepters, Crownes, and Kingly state,
May their great glories and abundance rate,
But neuer Him: All these, man may enioy,
Which if he lose, it can but one destroy;
But this priuation is so generall,
(As if all were but one, it toucheth all.)
Oh Royall Sir, beneath whose potent sway,
So many Kingdomes peaceably obay:
How deepe it wounds each loyall subiects brest,
To thinke vpon your losse aboue the rest;
T'imagine you sit mourning 'mongst your Peeres,
Your selfe heart-sad, their eyes all glaz'd in teares:
Let all their eyes vnto their owne hearts turne,
And weepe to thinke that you haue cause to mourne.
Yet why should the least sorrow touch thy heart,
That the sole hope of many millions art?
Or wherefore should the least offensiue brine,
With their salt watrie drops moyst those faire Eyne?
So many Kingdomes peaceably obay:
How deepe it wounds each loyall subiects brest,
To thinke vpon your losse aboue the rest;
T'imagine you sit mourning 'mongst your Peeres,
Your selfe heart-sad, their eyes all glaz'd in teares:
Let all their eyes vnto their owne hearts turne,
And weepe to thinke that you haue cause to mourne.
Yet why should the least sorrow touch thy heart,
That the sole hope of many millions art?
With their salt watrie drops moyst those faire Eyne?
Yet Nature will haue course, Kings and Kings Sons
Must all obey to passion; for it runs
Th'row euerie veine, and with internall zeale,
Despight the brest, it from the heart can steale
Sighs and sad throbs, nor spares it Princes eyes,
But euen from them, drawes teares at obsequies;
But let not one of my weake parts possest,
Dare search the sorrowes of a Kingly brest.
Must all obey to passion; for it runs
Th'row euerie veine, and with internall zeale,
Despight the brest, it from the heart can steale
Sighs and sad throbs, nor spares it Princes eyes,
But euen from them, drawes teares at obsequies;
But let not one of my weake parts possest,
Dare search the sorrowes of a Kingly brest.
Now ere that you your moistned cheekes can dry,
The newes (for still bad tydings swiftest fly)
As farre as Holland will arriue, and there
Who can expresse the sorrow shall appeare,
To see a great Kings daughter in her pride
Of Loue and Beautie, and by her faire side
Her hopefull Issue (prettie Infants playing)
They, as not capable of her dismaying,
Or what themselues haue lost; but when they spie
Her change of lookes, with a pearle-dropping eye
Distracted, and confus'd, (For who can blame
Strange extasies in her, to heare such fame)
Those little soules for companie to weepe,
To see her fall, those teares she cannot keepe.
What heart so obdure in all her Princely traine,
At this sad sight will not itselfe complaine?
Making the soule within the bosome melt,
Bee't but to see the pangs that she hath felt.
The newes (for still bad tydings swiftest fly)
As farre as Holland will arriue, and there
Who can expresse the sorrow shall appeare,
To see a great Kings daughter in her pride
Of Loue and Beautie, and by her faire side
Her hopefull Issue (prettie Infants playing)
They, as not capable of her dismaying,
Or what themselues haue lost; but when they spie
Her change of lookes, with a pearle-dropping eye
Distracted, and confus'd, (For who can blame
Strange extasies in her, to heare such fame)
Those little soules for companie to weepe,
To see her fall, those teares she cannot keepe.
What heart so obdure in all her Princely traine,
At this sad sight will not itselfe complaine?
Bee't but to see the pangs that she hath felt.
Amidst this dolefull Quire, next to behold
The Princely Pfaltzgraue, vnto whom 'tis told
The cause by this, in whose heroicke brow
You may like passion read, perplexed now,
Whether in his staid thoughts to comfort theirs,
Or adde to griefe with his owne sighs and teares,
Me thinkes I see both in his lookes prepar'd,
But which shall first breake forth, to ghesse 'tis hard.
Me thinkes I heare the passionate Ladie cry,
Oh what a losse King Charles hath, and what I;
What England, Scotland, Ireland, and what All,
Suruiuing his lamented Funerall.
The Princely Pfaltzgraue, vnto whom 'tis told
The cause by this, in whose heroicke brow
You may like passion read, perplexed now,
Whether in his staid thoughts to comfort theirs,
Or adde to griefe with his owne sighs and teares,
Me thinkes I see both in his lookes prepar'd,
But which shall first breake forth, to ghesse 'tis hard.
Me thinkes I heare the passionate Ladie cry,
Oh what a losse King Charles hath, and what I;
What England, Scotland, Ireland, and what All,
Suruiuing his lamented Funerall.
Oh you his ioy, the Peeres selected pleasure
Of forraigne Climes, the praise of ours a Treasure,
On whom your Maker hath his bountie shewed,
And Heauen with all choyse graces hath endued;
Whom euen the Angels loue, and men admire,
Made vp with what perfection can desire
From Earth or Heauen: your health and beautie spare,
He sainted liues, his vertues crowned are.
The whilst we daily of hie Heauen importune,
You may increase in grace and blessed fortune:
Proue thou a Prophet, Muse, say 'tis decreed,
All Christendome may flourish in your seed:
And excellent Pfaltzgraue, may your loues perseuer,
That these our Nations may admire you euer,
Diurnally augment, but not decline,
Till Heauen that gaue you vs, make you diuine.
Of forraigne Climes, the praise of ours a Treasure,
On whom your Maker hath his bountie shewed,
And Heauen with all choyse graces hath endued;
Whom euen the Angels loue, and men admire,
Made vp with what perfection can desire
From Earth or Heauen: your health and beautie spare,
He sainted liues, his vertues crowned are.
The whilst we daily of hie Heauen importune,
You may increase in grace and blessed fortune:
Proue thou a Prophet, Muse, say 'tis decreed,
All Christendome may flourish in your seed:
That these our Nations may admire you euer,
Diurnally augment, but not decline,
Till Heauen that gaue you vs, make you diuine.
But doth not Denmarke thinke I doe't some wrong,
T'haue stayd you in the Netherlands so long,
Not to take view of the great sadnesse there,
The blacks they both in hearts and habits weare:
Excuse me, Mightie Christerne, if for haste,
To come to thee, I almost had ore-past
Two Princely Germane Ladies, both like neere,
T'expir'd Queene Anne, and to thy selfe as deere.
But on their griefes why should I further dwell,
Since I haue onely a sad tale to tell.
And th'row the world there is no place assign'd,
Where for the present I can comfort finde;
For he that to a sorrowfull heart shall come,
And without comfort, had as good be dumbe:
To search a desperate wound, and haue no skill,
In stead of curing he as soone may kill.
Where others grieue, and I my selfe complaine,
Seeking to ease, I shall but adde to paine.
Then better to be silent: be't not yet
Offensiue, if I loth am to forget,
(Oh Mars-starr'd Denmarke) your fraternall loue
To our deceast Queene Anne, now shrin'd aboue,
When hath it often, nay scarse once beene seene,
So great a King, to see a sister Queene,
And for no other reason, but to please
His eye with her bright glorie, twice the Seas
T'haue crost with danger: his Maiesticke state,
Safetie and ease, leauing, to tempt his fate
'Gainst tempests, gusts, and the swolne surges wrath,
Nay all the fearefull terrours Neptune hath:
Not all the Oceans frownings and affrights
Could stay him from th' inticements and delights
He tooke in her sweet sight: Whirlewinds nor wrack,
No feare of surge or billow kept him backe:
All these exprest his loue; but for Queene Anne,
His Sisters death, his sad laments who can?
My weaknesse I confesse, and therefore leaue it
To some that can more feeling passion giue it,
And come vnto her gratitude, whom Spite,
Nor Enuie can accuse; She to requite
His magnitude of loue, (to giue it name
To all posteritie, and whence it came,)
Her Palace, which to her great charge and cost,
She then repair'd, as there delighting most,
With goodly structures beautified and wall'd,
Late Somerset, now Denmarke House is call'd.
T'haue stayd you in the Netherlands so long,
Not to take view of the great sadnesse there,
The blacks they both in hearts and habits weare:
Excuse me, Mightie Christerne, if for haste,
To come to thee, I almost had ore-past
Two Princely Germane Ladies, both like neere,
T'expir'd Queene Anne, and to thy selfe as deere.
But on their griefes why should I further dwell,
Since I haue onely a sad tale to tell.
And th'row the world there is no place assign'd,
Where for the present I can comfort finde;
For he that to a sorrowfull heart shall come,
And without comfort, had as good be dumbe:
To search a desperate wound, and haue no skill,
In stead of curing he as soone may kill.
Where others grieue, and I my selfe complaine,
Seeking to ease, I shall but adde to paine.
Then better to be silent: be't not yet
Offensiue, if I loth am to forget,
(Oh Mars-starr'd Denmarke) your fraternall loue
To our deceast Queene Anne, now shrin'd aboue,
So great a King, to see a sister Queene,
And for no other reason, but to please
His eye with her bright glorie, twice the Seas
T'haue crost with danger: his Maiesticke state,
Safetie and ease, leauing, to tempt his fate
'Gainst tempests, gusts, and the swolne surges wrath,
Nay all the fearefull terrours Neptune hath:
Not all the Oceans frownings and affrights
Could stay him from th' inticements and delights
He tooke in her sweet sight: Whirlewinds nor wrack,
No feare of surge or billow kept him backe:
All these exprest his loue; but for Queene Anne,
His Sisters death, his sad laments who can?
My weaknesse I confesse, and therefore leaue it
To some that can more feeling passion giue it,
And come vnto her gratitude, whom Spite,
Nor Enuie can accuse; She to requite
His magnitude of loue, (to giue it name
To all posteritie, and whence it came,)
Her Palace, which to her great charge and cost,
She then repair'd, as there delighting most,
With goodly structures beautified and wall'd,
Late Somerset, now Denmarke House is call'd.
Doe but obserue (I intreat) one thing with me,
To shew the loue and vnanimitie
Betwixt our Royall King, and blessed Queene,
What more remarkt a president hath beene?
As if the heauens to shew his loue vnto her,
And that in death (againe) he ment to woe her,
Haue so ordain'd, that though he dide remote,
Some miles from hence (not all vnworthy note)
Euen to the very place by death assign'd her,
His breathlesse corps, as hoping there to finde her,
Should be conuei'd; whether at his bequest,
Or that th' inscrutable powers so thought it best,
I'am ignorant; yet this assur'd I am,
She went from Denmarke house, he thither came.
From thence (as in one Temple they were wedded)
So in one place to be together bedded:
But into forraigne Countries I was growne
So farre, that I had nigh forgot mine owne;
As if we had not Country, Court, and Citie,
All to b'included in this mournfull dittie;
Therefore in this grieu'd synod I comprise
The poore, the rich, the ignorant, the wise,
The Noble, base, the Citizen, the Swaine,
Who all (and all at once) his losse complaine.
To shew the loue and vnanimitie
What more remarkt a president hath beene?
As if the heauens to shew his loue vnto her,
And that in death (againe) he ment to woe her,
Haue so ordain'd, that though he dide remote,
Some miles from hence (not all vnworthy note)
Euen to the very place by death assign'd her,
His breathlesse corps, as hoping there to finde her,
Should be conuei'd; whether at his bequest,
Or that th' inscrutable powers so thought it best,
I'am ignorant; yet this assur'd I am,
She went from Denmarke house, he thither came.
From thence (as in one Temple they were wedded)
So in one place to be together bedded:
But into forraigne Countries I was growne
So farre, that I had nigh forgot mine owne;
As if we had not Country, Court, and Citie,
All to b'included in this mournfull dittie;
Therefore in this grieu'd synod I comprise
The poore, the rich, the ignorant, the wise,
The Noble, base, the Citizen, the Swaine,
Who all (and all at once) his losse complaine.
But were their griefes like yours, thrice Noble Sir,
In whose more sad view, this sad character
I giue to safe protection, it would moue
Marble or Adamant, or what's aboue
These in relentlesse hardnesse, Corsicke stone,
Flint, Iron, Copper, Steele, or that which none
Can paralell in's kinde, and nothing but
It selfe can worke to beauty, mould, or cut,
The Diamond, could it partake your passion,
'Twere possible euer that to frame and fashion
Iust as the fire doth wax; nay, which is more,
Euen drop it into Teares: you did adore
His state and maiestie, for by his grace,
You stood before him in high eminent place.
But loth at this sad season should I be,
To put you (honour'd Sir) in memory
Too much of that, of which so much your brest
Is to your more infirmity possest.
Our generall comfore is, he's but translated
From earth to heauen, where he is now instated.
His peacefull soule hath giuen his foes the foyle,
Death wher's thy sting, & Hell wher's now thy spoyle?
In whose more sad view, this sad character
I giue to safe protection, it would moue
Marble or Adamant, or what's aboue
Flint, Iron, Copper, Steele, or that which none
Can paralell in's kinde, and nothing but
It selfe can worke to beauty, mould, or cut,
The Diamond, could it partake your passion,
'Twere possible euer that to frame and fashion
Iust as the fire doth wax; nay, which is more,
Euen drop it into Teares: you did adore
His state and maiestie, for by his grace,
You stood before him in high eminent place.
But loth at this sad season should I be,
To put you (honour'd Sir) in memory
Too much of that, of which so much your brest
Is to your more infirmity possest.
Our generall comfore is, he's but translated
From earth to heauen, where he is now instated.
His peacefull soule hath giuen his foes the foyle,
Death wher's thy sting, & Hell wher's now thy spoyle?
What should I now, hauing the greatest past,
Dwell on the lesser? they may weepe as fast,
Though not so fully, for the greater farre
The persons be, the greater their griefes are:
Pause then a while, his funerals to deplore,
Some other (that can better) praise him more.
Dwell on the lesser? they may weepe as fast,
Though not so fully, for the greater farre
The persons be, the greater their griefes are:
Pause then a while, his funerals to deplore,
Some other (that can better) praise him more.
| A Fvneral Elegie | |