Bosworth-field :: :: University of Virginia Library

When now the life of great Southampton ends,
His fainting seruants, and astonisht friends
Stand like so many weeping Marble stones,
No passage left to vtter sighes, or grones:
And must I first dissolue the bonds of griefe,
And straine forth words, to giue the rest reliefe?
I will be bold my trembling voyce to trie,
That his deare Name, may not in silence die.
The world must pardon, if my song bee weake,
In such a case it is enough to speake:
My verses are not for the present age:
For what man liues, or breathes on Englands stage;
That knew not braue Southampton, in whose sight
Most plac'd their day, and in his absence night?
I striue, that vnborne Children may conceiue,
Of what a Iewell angry Fates bereaue
This mournefull Kingdome, and when heauy woes
Oppresse their hearts, thinke ours as great as those:
In what estate shall I him first expresse,
In youth, or age, in ioy, or in distresse?

177

When he was young, no ornament of youth
Was wanting in him, acting that in truth
Which Cyrus did in shadow, and to men
Appear'd like Peleus sonne from Chirons Den:
While through this Iland Fame his praise reports,
As best in martiall deedes, and courtly spotts,
When riper age with winged feete repaires,
Graue care adornes his head with siluer haires;
His valiant feruour was not then decaide,
But ioyn'd with counsell, as a further aide.
Behold his constant and vndaunted eye,
In greatest danger when condemn'd to dye,
He scornes th' insulting aduersaries breath,
And will admit no feare, though neere to Death:
But when our gracious Soueraigne had regain'd
This Light, with clouds obscur'd in walls detain'd:
And by his fauour plac'd this Starre on high,
Fixt in the Garter, Englands azure skie;
He pride (which dimms such change) as much did hate,
As base deiection in his former state:
When he was call'd to sit, by Ioues command,
Among the Demigods, that rule this Land,
No pow'r, no strong perswasion could him draw
From that, which he conceiu'd as right and Law.
When shall we in this Realme a Father finde
So truly sweet, or husband halfe so kinde?
Thus he enioyde the best contents of life,
Obedient Children, and a louing Wife.

178

These were his parts in Peace; but O how farre
This noble soule excell'd it selfe in VVarre:
He was directed by a nat'rall vaine,
True honour by this painefull way to gaine.
Let Ireland witnesse, where he first appeares,
And to the fight his warlike Ensignes beares.
And thou O Belgia, wert in hope to see
The Trophees of his conquests wrought in thee,
But Death, who durst not meete him in the field,
In priuate by close trech'ry made him yeeld.
I keepe that glory last, which is the best;
The loue of Learning, which he oft exprest
By conuersation, and respect to those
Who had a name in Artes, in verse or prose:
Shall euer I forget with what delight,
He on my simple lines would cast his sight?
His onely mem'ry my poore worke adornes,
He is a Father to my crowne of thornes:
Now since his death how can I euer looke,
Without some teares, vpon that Orphan booke?
Ye sacred Muses, if ye will admit
My name into the roll, which ye haue writ
Of all your seruants, to my thoughts display
Some rich conceipt, some vnfrequented way,
Which may hereafter to the world commend
A picture sit for this my noble Friend:
For this is nothing, all these Rimes I scorne;
Let Pens be broken, and the paper torne:

179

And with his last breath let my musick cease,
Vnlesse my lowly Poem could increase
In true description of immortall things,
And rays'd aboue the earth with nimble wings,
Fly like an Eagle from his Fun'rall fire,
Admir'd by all, as all did him admire.