[Page] Tvvo Elegies, Consecrated TO THE NEVER­dying Memorie of the most wor­thily admyred; most hartily loued; and generally bewayled PRINCE; HENRY Prince of Wales.

Hoc fonte deriuata clades
In Patriam, Populum (que) fluxit.

LONDON: Printed by T. S. for RICHARD MORE, and are to be sould at his shoppe in Saint Dunstones Church-yard. 1613.

TO THE HONO­RABLE GENTLEMEN, and griefe-afflicted followers of our in­comparable Prince HENRY, deceased.

Interdum Lacrim [...]e pondera vocis habent

[Page] COurteous Reader, I entreate thee patiently to beare with these few faults, in the first Poeme, which through much haste are escaped:

2maymefatall mayme
25Careerein Careere


THose baser mindes, vnknowing, sensuall, rude,
That measure contraries indifferently;
Whose Summumbonum is their sleepe and food,
Preferring moments, to Eternitie;
That GOOD, in ILL; and Soule, in Sence include;
And beare no part in publique Miserie:
May well bee call'd that many-headed Beast;
The spawne of Earth, and lumpe but indigest.
And such, wise NATVRE keepes in desperate care
With hopelesse things; that tho opprest with want,
Yet ioy in griefe; are hopefull in despayre;
And mortall in Affects, as Ignorant;
They feele no motion, nor doe beare a share
In that mayne Cause which all good mindes doth daunt;
Sad Brittanes losse; DEATHS mayme, whose terrour
May mixe our Teares, with cares; and griefe with horror.
But who, of gentle SPIRIT, and softned HART,
Or who of Knowledge, and the mindes discourse,
One out of NATVRE; th'other out of ART,
That doe not plunge themselues in Sorrowes sowrse?
For these true qualities should beare a part;
NATVRE breedes Tendernesse; KNOVVLEDGE Remorse,
Remorse breeds sorrow; Sorrow SENCE confounding
VVith drearie Passion, and Harts deepest wounding.
And eu'n as from some strange, and ioyfull Cause
Proceeds oft times effects quite contrary,
VVhich by (confusion of the Organ) drawes
The Mirth to Teares: so DEATH (prepostrously)
To snatch a Kingdomes hope, gainst Natures Lawes
So Deare, so Young; begets extremitie
Beyond Loues ordinary course of teares,
Such Passion swallowes Pitie vp in Feares.
Then if in Cause so weighty, teares so light,
Expresse not these effects of gentle kinde;
Colde moues in meane; but nums vs with much might;
And brightnesse ouer-great may strike vs blinde:
So in extreames in NATVRE put to flight,
VVhich lodged in the Center of the Minde,
Drawes in teares moysture Sorrow to supply,
Least hart being burnt to Cinders, Passion dye,
Then in the depth of SENCE, my zeale-fraught brest,
Wounded with griefe and straining drops of BLOOD,
Opening a vent to giue my Passion rest,
Yeeld tributary streames to TIMES vast FLOOD.
Worke LOVE, swell Seas; may that MVSE ne're be blest,
That drownes his WIT in standing Lake of mud:
But Pegase Hoofes strike learned Helicon,
VVhose Riuelets now may runne through ALBION.
And as a liquid substance whiles one bent
To hold it fast, by thinnesse apt to runne,
Is easier lost, and rather findeth vent
By harder handling and compression:
So worthier VVITS within the Braine being pent,
Breaking the bounds of such contraction,
Rebound aboue their EARTH, that holds in vaine,
The fluent Numbers of their rauishing Straine.
In TAGVS then some Swannet dip his Pen,
And of this EAGLET-Issue sing the Fame;
Renue his FIGVRE in the hearts of men,
Charme stupid SENCE; your Spell is in his NAME:
And tho this PHOENIX (fled from any ken)
Haue sacrificed his LIFE in Funerall Flame,
A POETS Magicke yet, preuailes in death;
Adds LIFE to Vertue; and giues Honor Breath.
In morall TRVTH some later Poets faine,
How when we leaue this vaile of misery,
That Time giues Abstracts, which our names containe,
Which flickering Fowle, that about Lethe flye,
Catch in their Beakes, but let them fall againe,
Such are rude men that drowne all memory;
But if a Swan doe get a Heroes name,
He consecrates it straight t'immortall Fame.
Yee Isis Swannes then let not Lethes Fowles
Prophane his name; but may this PRINCES glory
(Which Enuy, Lethe, Time, or Age controls)
Be sung of you in a Mineruall story:
Let this Fames Sunne through this round Transitory
Shine, and ne're set; and fixed like the Poles,
Whiles some stout Atlas props his heauenly frame,
Let men (like Spheres) moue round about the same.
But I, in WIT the weak'st; in ART the least;
Knowing his death would cause the Muses slaine,
In will (tho not in skill) strong as the best,
Doe giue my Tincture to their purer graine:
And tho I bring but ground-worke to the rest,
That must erect this Trophe to his name,
I shall be proud yet to haue had a hand,
Vpon the Bases, where their Columbs stand.
Then faire POSTERITIE heau'ns Arbitresse
(That in Eternall Characters enrolles
Those Worthies, rapt from Earths vnworthinesse,
Through the diuine impulsion of their soules)
Receaue his memory which our zeales expresse,
Deepely remembred in the Thespian bowles:
That Times insatiate Orque (with kingdomes fed)
May on his Ruines haue his name be red.
When first in child-hood NATVRE sway'd his State,
(All diligent Culture vs'd to Vertues Roote)
So soone he had disclos'd the hidden Gate,
That his high SPIRIT tooke wing in stead of foote;
His timelinesse did so preuent his date,
That ere the Flowre was look't for came the fruit:
Thus Time in him gaue spurre to Natures speed,
And high-borne thoughts his height of birth exceed.
In him Earths DEITIE, with Heau'ns combin'd,
To shew their vtmost cunning in a CREATVRE;
The Humors, and the Elements enclin'd
To giue to him heau'n pointed forme and stature;
And GOD (by his rich Dowrie of the minde)
Render'd his Vertue Angell like in NATVRE;
And then but shewed the world their Artfull Prize,
Then shut him vp againe from mortall eyes.
His LIFE, and LIVES delight, was harmonie;
Whose Organs and whose Instruments were found
Vpon his PARTS in contrarietie,
To make sweete Musique vpon NATVRES ground:
But TIME too timelesse in this Sympathie,
Hasting his Cloze, this heau'nly SPIRIT hath wound
Vp to the Spheres, and Orbs Celestiall,
HEE was in NATVRE so Angelicall.
His PRACTISE was (with more then manly awe)
To sway the Scepter of his worlds Designes;
Where by an vpright hand he sought to draw
Through all his actions, paralells and lines,
Measur'd by IVSTICE, and by REASONS Law:
No sence perturbs, no passion vndermines
His glorious state, but kept his SOVLE a shrine
Burning in zeale of truth, and deeds Diuine.
His TIME by equall portions he diuided
Betweene his bookes and th'exercise of warre:
(Warre, the Tribunall seate where are decided
The rights of KINGS: and studies that from farre
Suruey the TIMES, how wandring and misguided)
That Mars with wits Minerua seem'd at iarre,
Which of them both should sway his Princely Hart,
Th'one with sterne Armes; the other with milde Art.
Vpon PERNASSVS Mount he tooke his stand,
A prospect faire of all discouerie;
(For nothing secret in Starres, Sea, or Land,
Can be concealed from learnings clearest eye)
Here would HEE contemplate, and cast beyond
The TIMES HORISON, to Eternitie:
There might he satiate his Thirst, for nothing can
(Excepting GOD) feede full the minde of MAN.
And he that knew the MVSES still t'inherit
The Prime and Priuiledge of the golden AGE,
(Where heau'nly Pleasure, Honor, and faire-Merit,
Enflame Desier with an holy Rage)
HEE still embrac'd them: yet his firie SPIRIT
To GLORIES aime, so much he did engage,
(Preuenting or Presaging things to come)
He vs'd his EARES to Trumpet, Fife and Drumme.
And like as when the VIGILL of the night,
(After the Starry RING had mou'd their course)
Proclaimes the Day; and then the GOD of Light
(Rous'd from his Couch) doth mount his firie Horse:
So our FAMES SONNE, with no lesse wished sight
(After his War-like summons) he would force
Rest from his BED, and at those wish't Alar'ms
Mount his hot Steede, shining in glorious Armes.
HEE knew that Armes was th'exercise of KINGS;
The spurre to Fame, roote of NOBILITIES
Hee knew his BIRTH and SPIRIT had lent him wings
To mount the pitch of all his AVNCESTRIE:
Hee likewise knew Fames Trumpet neuer rings
Of delicate Courtship, but with Infamy;
Hee knew that Souldiers vs'd n'affected words,
Whose Tongues are speares, their Oratory swords.
By Warres fayre shadow, his discoursiue Thought
Discernd the substance, and admyr'd the Face;
Bellona was his GODDESSE, whom he sought
With Knightly valour, more then courtly grace:
Th'Impression of whose Figure so much wrought,
That he would front her manly, and enchace
Vpon her sternest Brow, his temper'd steele;
ARMES had his Hart; when LOVE had scarse his Heele.
Not Canopies, but Tents tooke his DESIRE,
Not Courts, but Camps; nor could the courtliest dames
(Though they shot Eye-bals wrapt in CVPIDS fire)
Pierce his steel'd Brest: but Bullets roll'd in Flames,
From thundring Cannons, had more powre t'inspire;
Where Townes for markes; & Crownes do stand for games;
Where Foes subdu'd, for right of Kingdomes wrongs,
HONOVR might blaze with shield of golden Tongues.
These were the Subiects of our PRINCES Aime;
A plumed Caske, a Speare, a Sword, a Shield;
Kingdomes his hope; Olympicke wreaths his Chaine;
Barriers his practise, and the course of Field;
VVe look't HEE should haue impt the wings of FAME;
Charm'd Death, ruld FATE, and made proud Fortune yeeld,
And Lion-like haue forrag'do're the EARTH
To hunt his prey, and Crowne his NAME and BIRTH.
For who suggested not this rauisht minde,
To see him Careere, and weilde his Launce,
VVhat future TIMES such promising hope might finde,
How like HEE was this Kingdome to aduance?
VVho would haue thought a SPIRIT vnconfin'd,
Should not haue triumph't ouer Death and Chance?
And o'resome vanquish't FOE, in crymson Flood,
Be crown'd on Horse-backe sweating dewes of Blood?
And who (in his Praeludium) did not see
(Pent in the CHAOS of his manly Frame)
The spirit of Cyrus in Minoritie,
In boundlesse hope, and in a soundlesse Aime;
And in contention for Prioritie;
Not Alexander for th'Olympian Game,
Could shew more heartie thirst, and actiue Fire,
Then he would doe in his vnquench't Desire.
In State Designes, how full of State, and slow?
In Thoughts searene; in Cariage graue and wise;
His speech a Current braunch't from NATVRES Flow;
In Countnance, SAGE; Maiesticke in his Eyes:
As if in HIM he would let States-men know,
A PRINCES Wisdome not in wrinckles lies:
GOD measures not his GIFTS by Age or yeares,
His SENCE was hoarie, although greene his Haires.
In him was drawne the Modell of a State;
From Reason, Wrath, Desire, or Industrie;
Reason, to Gouernment proportionate;
Desire, to Trades; and Wrath, to Souldierie;
To range these powres, three VERTVES destinate;
Wisdome with Fortitude, and Pietie:
Those three thus order'd States make Realmes compleate,
As these three VERTVES, Princes good, and great.
He was the griefe of FOES: And eu'n as fire
Being newly kindled, ere it can burne bright
Or'e-comes the smoke, and then it doth aspire,
And out of vapor shewes his proper light:
So VERTVE (Enuies obiect) doth acquire
(Mauger malignant Humors of despite)
His natiue LVSTER [...] ▪ so our PRINCE (Diuine)
From Foe-mens fume, would make his FAME to shine.
He knew himselfe: no flattering Glasse could giue
So sooth'd a humor, or so smooth, a face,
That he would not discerne; he striu'd to liue
T'establish TRVTH in Hart; as Powre in Place:
From each of these his knowledge did deriue
Such equall right, which had so faire a grace,
That TITLES prou'd but Instruments to praise,
VERTVE was Agent, and still wore the Bayes.
His virtuall Impressions could rebate
The venemous BANE of whoorish Flattery;
Which like a SYREN lurkes in surging State,
To sing great PRINCES to their Infamy;
Which liuing deadnesse he so seem'd to hate,
That in the winde-swolne seas of Maiestie,
TRVTH stear'd his course, and kept his BARKE from harmes;
He had Vlisses powre gainst Circes Charmes.
The hope of HIM, made frozen VERTVE burne,
Which tooke fresh feruor from his Kingling fire;
To him all IRON harts began to turne;
For he was Load-stone to all Harts desire:
For HIM all Sexes and Degrees doe mourne;
And euer shall we (till our Breathes expire)
Embalme his VERTVES, and vpon his vrne
In LOVES sweete Incense, neuer cease to burne.
VVhat TYPES can VVIT deuise shall now be wanting?
Yet who his HONORS perfectly can blaze?
VVhat Heart, Tongue, Pen, thinkes, speakes, writes, without scanting
His full proportion of immensiue Praise?
But O thy FATE, when now our hopes were planting,
To turne to Funerall Cypresse, Ioyfull Bayes,
It reaues my Sence: he was too faire to flourish;
Too soone too ripe, and therefore like to perish.
VVhy did the Parcoe cut his vnspun thred?
His SPIRIT of Fire t'his Element aspir'd:
VVas that the cause? why liue we, he being dead?
VVe are forlorne, and he too much desier'd:
Our full-fed hopes were surfeited, and bred
A new disease; and he we so admir'd,
First tooke th'Infection, and bequeath'd his Breath,
Then we were cause of his vntimely Death.
And as a couetous Miser, midst his wealth,
Fats in his IOY, then pines in thirst of more;
So our rich hopes in HIM empair'd loyes health,
And in abundance, we grew staru'd, and poore:
Then TIME and DEATH that exercise their stealth
Vpon the Things wherein we set most store,
As th'Instruments of FATE, hauerob'd vs quite,
For Heau'n is Iealous of the worlds delight.
No Obiect dearer; nor no LOVE so crost:
If euer good cause suffer'd vnder might;
If euer IOYES were check't in proudest Boast;
Or euer Claime did non-suite kingdomes Right;
Our Cause, our IOYES, our Right and all are lost,
TIME, DEATH, and NATVRE arm'd with Fates despite,
By this one fatall blow so deadly giuen,
Doth make vs grone vnder the wrath of heau'n.
SORROVV sit downe then, and with bended Head,
Bearing thy Chin against thy griefe-charg'd Breast,
Behold the hungry Graue now to be fed,
With worlds delight, and cause of thy vnrest:
Be not appeas'd; forget thy Food, thy Bed
Remembring him; O neuer more digest
So deare a thought, but let thy Hart, and Brayne,
Sollicit still thy Passion to complaine.
Now Musickes Sirens that were wont to moue
His soule harmonious, with your sweet consents,
Howle your lost Ioy, your Hope, your Life, your Loue,
With your crack't voyces and your Instruments:
Disioyne your selues, and like the Turtle Doue
Alone bewayle your losse in languishments:
Pine and consume, and like the dying Swanne
Sing Dirges for your selues, and him that's gone.
And yee the Noblest estate of men
(Souldiers) embast in these degenerate times;
Though ye afford most matter to my Pen
Texcite your Teares; yet least my harsher Rimes
On your sad cause, doe make you mad agen,
Rest to your Passion: Harke the Churches Chime [...]
Ring to GODS seruice; serue him then in Peace,
Wex poore in spirit, and let action cease.
But yee deiected Spirits of his TRAINE,
Ruin'd in fortunes, and distrest in minde;
Of my Complaint receiue this horrid straine;
Me thinkes your Passion should strike Reason blinde
With your immoderate woes; and tho in vaine
Yee rage in Teares, like Seas with boystrous winde,
Yet with full sayles of griefe you should be borne
Till Mast were split, sayles rent, and tackling torne.
Now is my Passion with my soule at Warres;
Me thinkes the PILLORS of the world should shake;
Alcydes shrincke, and shoures of lucklesse Starres
Drop from their spheres: me thinkes the earth should quake
Graues gaspe, Raunes croke, and all confused iarres
Fore-runne his FVNERALL: yet what can make
The sight more ruthfull? when his HEARSE appeares
A little Iland compast in with Teares.
O now through ruptures of each wounded Hart,
His liuing figure prompt our deadest hope,
That Teares (earst choak't with horror) may conuert
To giue our Eyes their deaw, and pitie scope:
Now let all sing a teare complayning part,
For weeping Floods doe now begin to ope
A paslage for their streames, which must extend
In crook't Meanders without ebbe or end.
Prepare, prepare thou hollow harted Tombe,
To take to thy dead Armes, and to embrace
A Teare deaw'd Hearse: neuer did NATVRES Wombe
Produce his like: His Honour, Beautie, Grace
Possesse all Harts; Posteritie to come
Record his Name, which may no time deface:
And when Earths glory in Confusion lyes,
Let CHAOS murmer Vertues victories.
All stupid sence which Brittane Teares restraine,
Be now dissolu'd, suggest the smallest Beames
Of his true splendor, and each frozen veine
Will melt in griefe, and turne to licquid streames;
On dryest Sorrow cast moyst showres of Raine:
Let heate and colde, moyst, dry, with all extreames
Fight with Confusion in each troubled brest,
Which Time to quiet, neuer may digest.
Let teares shew Loue, tho rob'd of comforts cause;
For Canker TIME hath eate our hopes with rust;
Let Passion melt, as Icie coldnesse thawes;
Till windie sighes o'rewhelme vs with their gust:
Though teares nor passion wring from deaths fowle iawes
Our ioyes delight now blended with the Dust:
Yet since our Hope and Ioy in dust doth lye,
Let Harts strayne blood; Eyes weepe their fountaines dry.
Adore wee then that dreadfull sacred TRYNE,
That giues vs Essence out of Vacuum;
Nor gainst his Will let Rebbell Harts repine,
Who is the soule of soules infusion;
And though we seeme thus forced to resigne
What we thought ours; but his possession:
All fall before his mercies gracious THRONE,
Admire his Iustice, and his ends vnknowne.
Decist vaine man be not degenerate
In constitution of thy Soule and Minde,
Presume not in thy Thoughts t'expostulate
With God, who holds the lumpe of all thy kinde;
That bounds the Sea, and sets the world his date;
Confines all things himselfe being vnconfin'd;
Nor can his Wils vncomprehended might
Be linck't, and ty'd to thy fond Appetite.
Is not a Malefactor sore afraide
To view th'aspect of MANS Austeritie?
Doe not Faci [...] Facts implore the aide
Of humane MEN, gainst Lawes leueritie?
When cruell Wrath with gentle Piu's staide,
Seemes not sterne lustice yoak't with Clemencie?
VVhich Sympathiz'd together in one Sphere,
Their Influence engender LOVE, and feare?
How much more shall that Firme DIAMETER,
Essentiall Sphere of MANS Direction;
Heau'ns Architector; VVorlds Artificer;
The Quinessence of all Perfection;
Be lou'd in Feare, fear'd in Affection?
Let then no dusty VVormeling euer dare
VVith his Eternall VVILL to hold dispute,
But wrapt in wonder, all be dumbe and mute.
The LAVV is fixt whose Bounds may none transcend,
VVhich different Causes in one Chaine-combines;
All things by prouidence begin, and end,
Which generally orders: next assignes
A speciall Powre to FATE; which doth extend
And singularly parts in Place, and Times:
So that GODS generall Ord'nanc [...] firme must stand:
And FATE still vse his vnauoided Hand.
—Dijs Pietas mea
Et Musa Cordi est.

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