PHYALA LACHRYMARUM. OR A FEW FRIENDLY Tears, shed over the dead Body of Mr Nathaniel Weld Mr of Arts of Emanuel College in Cambridge; who in the short journey of his life, died between the five and six and twentieth year of his youth, 1633.  
Together with sundry choice Meditations of Mortality.  
Dignus longiore vita nisi quod vita meliore dignus.  
LONDON. Printed by R. Y. for George Lathum at the sign of the Bishop's head in Paul's Churchyard. Anno 1634.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Thomas LORD Bruce, Earl of Elgin.  
THe message sent by those two sorrowful sisters in the Gospel unto our Saviour (with the change only of one sickly word) is the ground of the sad news which I bring to your Lordship: (if at least that which is already known every where, may be called news) the friend whom you loved is dead, which is the cause that these few plaintive leaves present themselves to your Lordship in their funeral blacks; his true love and affection to me, hath persuaded me to proclaim my grief in this manner, for the loss of so worthy a dear friend, to the world. And your Lordship's love to him hath prompted me, a mere stranger to your Lordship (with boldness enough without your knowledge) to send them abroad under the countenance of your Honourable Name. If your Lordship question my overmuch daring herein, in fastening my poor scriblets upon your Protection, I have nothing to say for myself, in excuse, but to fly behind the traverse of his Name, where your Lordship will be pleased either to see no faults at all, or willingly to oversee them. To this my simple memorial of him, I have (as a poor Postscript) added divers Emblemicall Essays, which for mine own private entertainment of idle hours, I have long since at several times composed and laid by me (amongst many other of several subjects) unseen of any, save of him whose absence I now lament: which, seeing they received approbation from him, I am the more confident to adventure to your Lordship's hands, and next, to the public view; especially conceiving within myself, that it will not seem altogether unsuitable or improper (after the naming of a particular friend) to fall into some few short discourses of friends and friendship in general; neither (after the lamentation for a lost friend) to let fall some scattering meditations of death, by whom this so dear friend is reaved from the sweet communion of so many his good friends, who do still love him, and miss him. The conclusions which I have fetched out of these Italian proverbial maxims, I must confess are but as the first faint drops which Chemists are wont to extract out of precious Simples and Minerals, through an earthen Limbeck or a Bolts-head, of brittle glass (at the best) and so of themselves neither greatly useful or pleasant, but as it is in the Proverb, Chi beve vino, beve sangue, all meno quadagna il colore; he that drinks wine drinks blood, (at least) he gains the colour clear to himself: so this my collection of so many elegant Proverbs in a language so delightful, standing in the front of my barren conceits like a curious nosegay of fragrant flowers, with their stems hid in the hollow cane of a silly fennell-stalk, may hope to win favour & acceptance, for the pleasant sent which they bring with them; the Diamond (by being set on a dark dull foil) losing yet none of the natural worth, though much of that precious lustre, which Art could have added unto it. And thus (having given up this account of myself to your Lordship, and fearing to add prolixity to my boldness) I humbly commend myself and my worthless pains to your Lordship's pardon, and acceptance: in the one applealing to the goodness of your own Noble Nature; the other beseeching you to vouchsafe me for his sake, for whose I have herein cast myself upon the necessity of craving your Lordship's favour and pardon, and so rest.  
By your Honour Of no use to be commanded, Of no worth to be entreated, W. LATHUM.   

Flete meos casus.  
HOw can I choose but dolefully complain  
Unto each gentle ear, and tender mind  
The sorry accident, that doth constrain  
My heart to scald with sighs of strangled wind,  
And eyes to drown in their own dreary drain?  
Who sees a field, sown with all sorts of grain,  
Some newly springing up, some spindled new,  
Some goodly blooming, others in the wane,  
Hanging their tidy ears of yellow hue  
Down to the earth, (from whence at first they grew)  
Then sees belive a thriftless husbandman  
Pass by the aged crop (which cumbers ground  
And hinders that no other prosper can)  
While with his corbed sickle he reaps down  
The fresh young stalks whose joints with sap abound;  
Such one (comparing this sad uncouth sight)  
The root of my complaint, may read aright.  
Tu quibus ista leges incertum est Lector ocellis,  
Ipse equidem siccis scribere non potui.   

ELEGIA INTRODUCTOria in Lachrymas sequentes.  
Scarce is (amongst a thousand days) one day  
So fortunate and lucky every way,  
But that in compass of those twice twelve hours,  
Some one or other luckless chance devours:  
Or some of all from all in general,  
Or all at once, from some in special;  
And every state one thing or other meet  
That mingles gall, and aloes with their sweet.  
Each where I hear complaint, and most lament  
On every side of loss and detriment;  
Husbands the wives, the wives their husband's loss,  
Parents their child, children their parents cross;  
Brothers for sister's death are discontent,  
Sisters for brothers; these do those lament;  
Merchants their ships, shepherds do lose their sheep,  
Some wail the loss of what they cannot keep.  
I none of these, but I have lost a friend;  
Time may all else, but not this loss amend:  
Which loss whoever suffer, understand  
What 'tis to be deprived of their right hand,  
To have a leg cut off, an eye put out,  
And live a cripple, to be led about;  
A maimed-uselesse man, at once bereft  
Of outward strength, and inward joy; so left  
A wand'ring Pilgrim in a land unknown,  
Injured of all, because beloved of none:  
This leglesse, eyeless, handless man am I,  
All these I lost, when he from me did die.  
All ye that chance, (if any chance) to read  
These sorry lines of mine; if ye indeed  
Of such like friend be sped, as I him vaunt  
(In this self-loving Age, (ah) very scant)  
Their patronage and mine I you commend,  
For ye can truly value such a friend.  
Your tender gentle hearts can entertain  
A quick impression of another's pain,  
And nimbly can (at half a word) resent  
The weight and burden of their discontent:  
And passionate your loft compassion is,  
And tender unto all that is amiss.  
For love of that, which is to you most lief  
Come all ye (as my seconds) to my grief;  
Lend me your tears, and sighs to furnish out  
The woeful work which I am now about.  
And if such chance you ever do mischance,  
(As God defend it should) in sovenance  
And fair requital of your love, I'll pay  
You tears for tears, and sighs for your sighs; nay,  
(Unwilling, barely to repay your own)  
I'll pay you interest of ten for one:  
And (till my briny brain be drained dry)  
Will side with you, and mourn incessantly:  
(Ab) for your grief will bring to memory  
Mine own unhappy grief, and keep my wound  
Still bleeding fresh, whilst every seeming sound,  
And each like word, (that even but relates  
And to his name alludes) insinuates,  
And will my heart with news thereof inform,  
Still raising in my bosom a new storm;  
So shall your moan my mournful moan augment,  
For full of harmony, a sweet consent  
Of sorrow is with sorrow, tears with tears,  
And grief in parts the music higher rears;  
But now from you my conference must break  
Whilst all my other mourners I do thus bespeak.   

PHYALA LACRHYMARUM.  

YE Lady Graces, and ye Muses nine,  
And all ye virtues Moral and Divine,  
Ye Sciences, and most renowned Arts,  
And, all ye sons of Art, come weep in parts;  
And each good man who goodness doth admire,  
And all (save ye of the Celestial Choir,  
Ye Angels, and ye blessed Saints, possessed  
Already in Heaven of your happy rest,  
For by our loss and sorrow all ye reap  
A gainful harvest, and for joy do leap,)  
All clad in sable weeds, with Ebony wands,  
And Cypress branches in your friendly hands,  
Dissheveled hair about your shoulders thrown,  
With all the sorry signs of hearty moan,  
With panting breasts, with sighing well nigh rend,  
With careful looks and eyes oft upward sent,  
With ' behaviour speaking nothing, save neglect  
Of all, but what on sorrow doth reflect.  
Come sit with me, and help me to condole  
The sad departure of the blessed soul  
From the dead corpse, of this dear friend of ours,  
And with your tears (as with so many showers)  
Embalm it over all, and strew his hearse  
With the sweet fragrant odours of your verse:  
Sith (like a body that hath lost a limb)  
Each of you all do suffer loss in him.  
Yea, with so loud alewes and drerement  
Let be your plaints, and over him lament,  
That future Ages, in your grief, likewise,  
For loss of him with you may sympathise,  
And cause an Annual Obits to be held  
In his remembrance, whom they ne'er beheld.  
But that you may no Ceremonies fit  
In your last duty unto him, omit,  
Ere ye upon him lock his Coffin door,  
And in a bath of your salt tears all o'er,  
And dew of Roses (steeped in Amber grize)  
Having first drenched him, much (as may suffice)  
Bring some of those Arabian merchandise,  
Sweet Aromatic Gums, and precious spice,  
Pure Frankincense, and pounded cinnamon  
Nutmegs, with Cloves, and Mace, and Saffron some,  
Add Storax-Calamite, and Bengewine,  
And precious Spicknard unto these conjoin,  
Aloes, with Myrrh, and Cassiafistula,  
The fragrant fuel, and the spicy spray  
Whereof that bird (of self dusts, self worm) bred  
Doth build her nest to serve for her deathbed,  
Which flaming round about her, she sits down,  
And with sweet martyrdom herself doth crown.  
In stead of others more, with these same few  
Thick over all his pale dead corpse bestrew;  
But (chief and principal of all the rest)  
These three bestrew, the Head, the Mouth, the Breast;  
Sith in these three (his Breast, his Mouth, his Head)  
Many sweet Notions fostered were and bred;  
And Meditations sweet, (well styled indeed  
The fodder of the soul) did hence proceed;  
And many sweet discourses (sweetly made)  
And prayers so sweet, that God self could persuade.  
Ne, only thus these precious perfumes serve,  
His corpse from putrefaction to preserve,  
But signify how sweet and fragrant is,  
How grateful and accept this sacrifice  
Of soul and body, which (in life and death)  
He offered hath to God, and witnesseth  
The good report and praise (like savoury sent  
Of sweet delicious Nard) of's life well spent,  
Which here he to the world behind him leaves;  
So double guerdon he both here and there receives.  
This done, him in his Coffin sweetly lay;  
Yet (ere ye to his Bear do him convey)  
Wove him a Chaplet, all of flowers sweet,  
For flowers and garlands been for virgins meet.  
Now come with flowers, not flowers by them worn  
Who loss of love do suffer (all forlorn:)  
Bring here therefore no caitiff Columbines,  
Flowers of ill omen, and unhappy signs;  
No gaudy Tulips here admitted be,  
(Emblems of false (faire-fained) sanctity,)  
Whose worth all outward is in show alone,  
But inward sent hath not, ne virtue none,  
For thy ' true flowers I do not them aread,  
But (at the best) a glorious kind of weed:  
As worthless simples, numbered amongst them  
Gay Daisies of the field, which we contemn.  
Instead of these, bring store of fragrant flowers,  
By faithful friends, and pious paramours  
In honour greatly held; whose savoury sent  
Of mingled sweets do show the sweet content  
Who ere so happy be thereof to taste,  
Of two true hearts in love united fast.  
For well his tongue and ' behaviour could indeed  
Of faithful love a learned lecture read,  
And well him love became, who loyal was  
Unto his love; (unhappy love) alas,  
Which when both hearts, and hands, and friends consent  
Had all clapped hands with infinite content,  
And all things ready to enjoying, had  
(Save publication) death the Banes forbade.  
Worthy for this were death to be controlled,  
For certes too too blame was death, and bold,  
So hopeful crop of love, (like full ripe wheat)  
To blast, and smite, which ready was to reap.  
Bring bashful Pinks in which is to descry  
Sweet Emblem of faire-maiden-modestie;  
Which (though of flowers lest almost) the field  
For sweetness, to the greatest need not yield.  
Then Gillyflowers, and sparkling Sops in wine,  
With Rosemary and scenting Eglantine,  
Whose leaves (with prickles fenced) teach sweetest gains  
Is that, that's conquered with the hardest pains.  
Next Hyacynths, and black-faced Violets,  
In which (me seems) the God of Nature sets  
The world to school, not ever to esteem  
Aught at first sight, as it doth outward seem;  
But on the hidden virtue to reflect,  
For th'inward good, mean outsides to respect;  
Sith, though this flower be black, of stature low,  
A hanging-guilty look, that makes no show;  
Yet amongst all, scarce one may parallel  
Her savoury sent, and sweet delightful smell.  
Bring Hearts-ease store, Oh flower most blessed of all,  
Which all they wear, whom nothing can befall  
Beyond their expectation, ill ne ought  
So good, as to excess, to tempt their thought.  
Of pretty Panses plenty let be brought,  
For this flowers name doth signify a thought;  
And therefore chiefly unto such belongs  
Who dare not trust their love unto their tongues:  
But in a Labyrinth of thoughts do walk,  
And to themselves in pleasing silence talk;  
Unthinking still what ever they first thought,  
So nought by them is into practice brought.  
Bring Medway, Cowslips, and deft Daffodillies,  
The country Primrose, and all sorts of Lilies,  
And Floure-de-Luce, (Le fleur de louse, more right)  
Deliciae flos, the flower of delight.   

Then usher in th'obsequious Marigold;  
Whose riddle who so wise is to unfold,  
Why the Sun's course it daily follows so  
That as that to the South or West doth go,  
So broad or narrow this doth shut or open,  
And hight for thy ' the faithful Heliotrope?  
Then with Rosebuds (if Rosebuds may be found)  
It tissue thick, and trail it all around.   

And last, a trail of winding Ivy let  
Run all along, on either side beset  
With sprigs of Daphnis, stained with drops of gold,  
And Olive leaves that still with peace doth hold;  
In sign that he with conquest died in peace,  
And doth the number of the Saints increase  
In eviternall peace, free from annoy  
Of all this world's fond cares, which want destroy  
All true content, and racks men's hearts in twain,  
And makes them old before their time, to gain  
Some one or other worldly good, which hence  
They must not with them bear; and this torments  
Their very souls, and makes that grudgingly  
With great reluctance hopeless many die.  
So nor in life nor death with peace are blessed.  
But to return whence I too far digressed.  
Now on his Hearse a counterpoint be cast,  
And on this counterpoint, this Garland placed,  
In token of th'integrity and truth  
And single Caelibat of his chaste youth:  
For single life, right soberly maintained,  
And kept from being viciously profaned,  
Gains thanks of God and man, and with renown  
And happy praise, both life and death doth crown.  
Now forward set, in order, two and two,  
And to the Temple do before him go,  
Some with long Rosemary-branches in your hands,  
Dangling with black, and ashie-pale Ribbons;  
And some again with both your handfuls come  
Of savoury Dyll, and scenting Marjorum,  
And that Thessalian herb, whence busy bees  
Suck honey, and with wax do load their knees:  
And all the way with slips of wormwood dress  
In sign of this days bitter heaviness.  
Clean-purging Isop bring, and Germander,  
With Cotton, and her sister Lavender;  
Bring Balm, that quickly heals any green wound;  
And sage, that all the vital parts keeps sound;  
And Camomel, (how ever mean and base)  
The Emblem of true constancy and grace;  
That doth against all scornful feet oppose,  
And much more sweet, for thy ', and thicker grows,  
And Sallet-budded Broom, wholesome and good  
To purge, and eke, the waterish-wasted blood.  
Bring Strawberry, Primrose, Plantain leaves, Toutsain,  
And all what ever Simples, sovereign  
For man's relief, (for in, or outward cure)  
Bring some of all, leave none behind, be sure:  
Bring Saint john's Wort, whose virtuous oil may dare  
(For skill in healing) with self Balm compare.)  
And Lungwort (sovereign above all the rest)  
To ease the straitened bellowes of the breast;  
And all the words that ere ye reckon can,  
For they are all wellwillers unto man.  
And let not herb of Grace forgotten be,  
Which (as 'tis such) with him doth well agree:  
For, full was he of grace: and (as 'tis rue)  
It us befits, our rueful hearts to show.  
Yea, Rushes bring, (which strewed wont to been  
To welcome friendly strangers seldom seen.)  
But bring no herbs (I charge) of evil fame,  
That baneful ever to man's life became,  
To let in death, ere their appointed hour,  
By their cold juice, and inward deadly power.  
Therefore (ay you aread) no sleepy slip  
Of Poppy amongst your other herbs let slip;  
No Coloquintida, ne no Henbane,  
Nor Hemlock, that intoxicate the brain;  
Nor Fennell-finkle, bring for flattery,  
Begot of lies, and feigned courtesy.  
But above all, as ye love him, this day  
Whose funeral ye done attend, I pray  
Bring not the leaves of that sour Indian fume,  
(The common Mountebank) which, not the rheum,  
But all diseases else, to cure dare vaunt,  
(At least prevent) which in our bodies haunt:  
Which taints the breath, and (worse than any goat)  
Doth make it stink, whereon men so do dote,  
That morning, Noon, and Night, they want it take,  
And their continual dear companion make.  
So like that poisonous Arrian Heresy,  
It all the world hath overrun well nigh;  
For now all matters ended, or begun,  
Must through this smoky purgatory run.  
And all what ere we eat and drink is choked  
Yea, sacred meat and drink therewith are smoked.  
With that pragmatick-crotched-pated 
* Bertholdus Swart, a Germane borne, by Profession a Franciscan Friar, a great Alchemist, first inventor of the Gun and Gunpowder; this invention he taught to the Venetians about the year 1330, who therewith gave the Genoese a notable overthrow.  Friar,  
Who Niter first devised to set on fire,  
And to discharge it from that fatal gin,  
Toth' bane of men, to thunder near of kin;  
May he of all posterity be cursed  
Who brought this weed in daily practice first:  
Ah, for 'twas this unsavoury fulsome weed,  
That traitorously conspired his death indeed;  
Provoking him to cough, which broke a vein  
Within his lungs, first causer of his bane.  
All we for thy ', who now bewitched are  
With this deceitful drug, in time beware.   

Now all ye mourners who the honour have  
To bear him on your shoulders to his grave,  
Take up your load, and weeping all the way,  
Unto his shady chamber him convey:  
The mother earth is ready to receive  
Her welcome child; there in her arms him leave.  
Thus finished is midway my doleful song,  
Which ere I any further do prolong,  
Myself I do apply, and turn my speech  
To whom it most concerns, and them beseech  
For his dear sake, whose memory is dear  
As was his life, and love to me too, here  
In Jet or Touch these sorry lines engraff  
Too much though (true is) for an Epitaph.   

Here WELD hath left his body in this Tomb  
In pawn, till he again from Heaven come,  
Whither he's gone on pilgrimage before  
The happy Saints to visit, and adore  
His blessed Lord and Saviour till Doomsday,  
Where he to wait on him, intends to stand.   

Then underneath his Monument, write this  
(Though of far better he most worthy is)  
In plates of shining Brass, of purpose made,  
And in black Marble, on his Grave inlaid.   

Here lies the Mould, the Coffin and the Shell  
That doth the Shell, the Mould, and Coffin hold,  
Where late our dear friends blessed soul did dwell;  
Now Heaven is to this blessed soul the Mould,  
The Coffin, and the Shell become, until  
The general Assizes of the world, when all  
Souls their own Moulds and Coffins shall fulfil,  
And to their old Shells, every Kernel fall.  
In hopeful expectation of which day  
Our worthy WELD, whom we so justy mourn,  
Leaves here his Gage, that he'll no longer stay,  
Than he must needs, but suddenly return.  
True sign, that of his word he will be just,  
Thus in his absence, to leave us the care  
Of his dear dust, as his Feoffees in trust;  
O Grave (for his sake) sacred, be well ware  
No violence be done unto his dust,  
But kept inviolate until he come,  
Till then, religious Ashes rest in peace  
(More than Mausolus in his glorious Tomb)  
Till the renewing of your lives old lease.   

And, as a poor Appendix to his Tomb,  
Writ so, as to be read, vouchsafe a room  
To this my secret plaint, and private moan,  
Conceived in silence to myself alone,  
When at his grave I did recall to mind  
The fickle-fraile condition of mankind.  
Ah for my friend, who wished and loved me well,  
I him as well; I (living) saw him dead,  
who moat have lived, t'have bidden me farewell,  
And seen me gasp my last, on my deathbed.  
But so't pleased him (who each man's vital thread  
Spins as him list) his thread of life to break,  
And mine hath spared, and longer lengthened;  
(The longer though, so much more still the weak:)  
Ah the weak web of man's frail flesh, how soon  
(That long was weaving) is't again undone?  
But if of all thy friends there be not one  
Some little monument of carved stone,  
That will thee raise, thy name whereon to write,  
And none to thee this duty will acquit:  
Yet I shall joy that I have thought it fit,  
And that I thus to them have mentioned it:  
And were thy friend, thy sound-whole-hearted friend,  
As thy good nature, want him oft commend,  
In heart (as once he was) and may again,  
If God to his endeavours say Amen,  
This charge by him, should be for thee defrayed,  
For in small cost much love may be bewrayed.  
And if prayers lawful were to any Saint,  
And Saints our prayers could hear, and God acquaint  
With what we want, and in necessity  
We moat (poor men) relieved be thereby:  
Thou shouldst my Saint of Intercession be,  
And (my dear not) I'd only pray to thee:  
For thou amongst the Saints a Saint dost dwell,  
And reap'st the fruit there, of here living well;  
Where hope and faith both being at an end,  
Nought thou (save charity) hast to intend:  
And Gloria Patri, and Te Deum sing,  
And quousque Domine, ceasest thou to bring  
The world to question, and the hard constraints,  
And sufferance to avenge of thy dear Saints?  
Thus thou in prayers, and praises mixed among  
Dost spend, or rather dost thy time prolong.  
But now (thou Muse) of all the mournfullest,  
Who at a sad and doleful tale art best:  
And (thou Calliope) whose powerful Muse  
Can minister, and goodly well infuse  
Meet matter, and fit words to any one  
For fancy and conceit to workeupon,  
For virtue's sake, assist me to bewary  
(Sith well I mean) what I have here to say;  
And as my Midwives, help me forth to throw  
The Infants of my brain wherewith I go;  
And teach their newborn tongues (however weak)  
Of this your darling worthily to speak.  
Wherein if they so fairly them acquit,  
To say but somewhat that may do him right,  
'Twill welcome prove; their very naming him.  
Will grace, and add enough to their esteem;  
For never man more worthy is than he  
To be remembered both of you and me.  
Rarely was ever seen (be't not envied,)  
Such a combination, and so full a tide  
(In such an underage) of all true worth,  
Where nature and Grace consented to set forth  
A model to the world of what they can,  
When they intent to frame some special man,  
For every purpose and intention fit;  
A most acuminous, quick-pregnant wit;  
A clear fine fancy, and a acquaint conceit,  
Active, and nimble, and yet full of weight;  
A piercing present strong capacity;  
A spacious, vast, tenacious memory;  
A mind composed of art and industry;  
A heart affecting (unaffectedly)  
To make pure profit of all good men's good;  
And each vainefull of piety as blood.  
I say unaffectedly, sith what need he  
(Whom Nature hath enabled to be  
What ere him pleased) affect the speech, the tone,  
The phrase, gest, or garb of else any one?  
Here Art, Learning, Knowledge, Wisdom, Judgement,  
(Above his age) and strange Intendment,  
With learning, and the Learned tongues as well  
He furnished was; the kernel as the shell,  
Excellent in some, scarce yielding to the best,  
Well seen, and rational in all the rest:  
Yea, (what himself would not) I dare him vaunt,  
In no sciential knowledge ignorant.  
In so small time, how deeply wert thou read?  
And how far traveled and traversed  
〈◊〉 in the books of God and Nature fit to teach  
Both learned and unlearned out of each?  
Loyal, and full of faith and faithfulness  
To God and man, in all he did profess,  
Here, Bounty and all courteous Amenage,  
Of Generosity the true presage,  
As far from surquedrous-proud-selfe-conceit,  
Which all great wits doth commonly await,  
As his religion and his faith was free  
From spot or taint of unsound heresy.  
Here that Sal Gemmae (as we may it call)  
Discretion; which doth kindly season all;  
A breast full fraught with clear integrity,  
And all set off with sweet Humility,  
A winning virtue, and a special grace,  
To usher in a man before God's face,  
Than which no virtue shines but half so bright,  
And without which the weightiest gold is light.  
This added lustre and embellishment  
To all his other worth where ere he went:  
So that as he by virtue gained respect,  
Virtue by him regained the like effect:  
Each of them honoured by each others worth,  
As pearl in gold, both sets, and is set forth:  
Yea, all that man to God and man indeares,  
Were met together in these tender years.  
Scarce the sixth year of's manhood he attained,  
When he this mass of virtuous treasures gained,  
Where, had he but gone on as he began,  
And doubled his few years, Lord, what a man,  
And to what excellence would he have grown,  
To the world's wonder, and emulation:  
Much have I heard of thy rich Mines, Perue,  
Thy Rubies, Diamonds, and Sapphires blue,  
And of that Island-rivers precious shells  
Where orient pearl of nameless value dwells:  
But in one Mine, one Shell, one Rock or Shore,  
Some of all these were never found before.  
Gardens and orchards infinite there are,  
With all sorts of fruits, and flowers rare:  
But all at once grown on one stalk and tree,  
I never saw till now (dear not) in thee.  
Ah my dear Lord, pardon this fault of mine,  
If not considering well this deed of thine,  
I too too foolish fond have repined,  
And in the heat of grief have spoke my mind  
Thus sawcely. far better a great deal  
ne'er to the world this jewel to reveal,  
Than shown a while to put it up again  
I'th' case, unseen for ever to remain.  
But 'twas thy will, and thus I answer must,  
My discontent, sith certes 'tis but just,  
That he who makes the jewel may dispose  
Thereof at pleasure, lest it else moat lose,  
In this unbeveld age, when 'tis so hard  
For vertue-selfe from taint herself to guard,  
Any those Diamonds and Pearls of Grace,  
Which round about his Gem he did enchase.  
Unfeigned friend, Oh how unfeignedly  
Do I lament, when I say thou didst die?  
Why moat not I (whose life is of no use)  
Thy too too hasty death by death excuse?  
The Sun to set at night is natural;  
But if at noon to set it should befall,  
It would the world with wonder deep dismay;  
But should it set inth' nonage of the day,  
The course of nature (all sorts would cry out)  
Confounded is, and quite turned round about.  
And is't not thus, the very same in men,  
When we see fouresocore, fifty, threescore years and ten  
Climb back (as 'twere) the western hill again,  
As if the South point of their life to gain:  
Whilst younglings (such as this day's sample showeth)  
Set in their graves inth' morning of their youth?  
A needful caution to the younger fry,  
Sith life itself is but uncertainty:  
And death no time prescribes, or can it stay,  
But it will come at all hours of the day;  
That every one, they stand upon their guard,  
Remembering ever that death never spared  
Youth for youth's sake:  
But (for the practice of his bow) will slay  
All sorts of game that comes within his way,  
Be't Stag, Buck, Hynd, Do, Herse, Calf, or Phone,  
All's one to him, and he to all is one;  
Whether it out of season be or in,  
Impartially, he reaketh not a pin.  
Ah, when I heard them sorrowfully say,  
That thou wert dead, the very like dismay  
In every face I did observe (me thought)  
As when in Pharo's Land sad news was brought,  
That in one instant time, and casually,  
One was found slain in every family:  
Somuch unhappy tidings one nights scope  
Can bring to light, to strangle all our hope.  
Sith when to day with joy I heard them tell  
The worst is past, and hope thou shouldst do well,  
The morrow next (by break of day) I hear  
The Passing-bell invite thee to thy Bear,  
And to prepare thyself for going hence,  
Which message, though with Christian confidence,  
Through strength of highest hope, and faith-unfain,  
Didst readily, and joyful entertain:  
So (like a full ripe nut slipped from the shell)  
Thou slip'st away, and badst us all farewell.  
But well without thee (Ah!) how can we far?  
With whose sweet company we want repair  
Our former loss of time, which we misspent  
In idleness, or things impertinent.  
Oh my dear WELD, whose conversation was  
So lovely unto me, could sighs (alas)  
And true-shed tears (the characters of grief)  
Unto thy sickness added have relief;  
Had it in power of learned Leach-craft lain,  
Or in the miracle of Medicine;  
A noble Art (no doubt) which can again  
New twist the thread of life nigh cracked in twain:  
Can devout prayers of friends have thee reprieved  
From death, and made thee to be longer lived,  
Thou shouldst not now thy Friends and Parents backs  
Have clothed all over thus, in mourning blacks:  
Ne all their heavy hearts shouldst now have clad  
In sable mantle of thoughts dark and sad:  
Ne should my Muse have on thy heavy Hearse,  
(O heavy Hearse,) attend in sable Verse:  
Ne yet the eyes of my ink-stained quill  
On my white-cheekt leaves these black tears distil.  
How lovely wert thou (living) unto all?  
All, for thou wert not sullen-cynicall,  
Nor of a supercilious-haughtie eye,  
But affable, and full of courtesy,  
Well pleased with mirth, and harmless merriment,  
Which (but injuriously) can ne'er be shent.  
How did all hug thee, and embrace, for thy '  
Thy (hardly-sampled) self, and company?  
How joyed all at thy coming? and in heart  
How sad, and sorrowful at thy depart?  
Yea, and (now dead) how doth each thing retain  
Like love to thee, and of thee been as fain?  
When (weary) thou thy deathbed didst forsake,  
How ready was thy winding-sheet to take  
Thee in her milk-white arms (not satisfied)  
Till wholly to herself the did thee hide.  
And next thy coffin (being very proud  
At'th second hand, t'enjoy thee in thy shroud)  
For love of thee the sheet where thou dost dwell,  
Doth hug and kiss, much like the loving shell,  
That for the almonds sake the tender skin  
Encloseth round, where th'almond lieth in.  
And then the Earth which (living) loved thee so,  
To kiss thy feet where ever thou didst go,  
With no less love doth now embrace thy chest,  
Within her own dear bosom long to rest,  
Till thou (whom she seems so in love withal)  
In thine own dust, into her arms dost fall.  
Last, when thy soul of thee did take her leave,  
An Angel readily did it receive,  
And in his winged arms did it convey  
Nimbly to Heaven, and still all the way  
With sacred kisses courted it, and sang  
To it a Requiem sweet, whereat it sprang  
In's Arms for joy; (no doubt) for very joy  
That it should now so suddenly enjoy  
The blessed vision of her Lord who died  
Ingloriously, her glory to provide.  
How can I then, but (living) thee admire,  
Whom (' live and dead) both Heaven and Earth desire?  
Farewell (deerfriend) too soon ripe, long to last:  
Happy young man, who so long journey hast  
In so small time dispatched: such hap as this  
The first heirs of the first world long did miss,  
And stayed sometimes a thousand years well nigh,  
Ere they (as thou) sued out their Livery.  
Happy young man; and fortunately blessed,  
In all; and amongst all not blessed least  
In thy Maecenas (that thrice-noble Lord)  
Who countenance to thy learning did afford;  
Ne only did thee hold in great regard,  
But thee with bounteous hand did oft reward,  
And graced thy person for thy virtue's sake.  
Moat learning-selfe, and learned men him make  
Full great requital (gentle Lord) for this;  
And make his fame the golden Stars to kiss:  
And by the power of their mighty Muse,  
The praises echo loud, of the Great Bruce,  
And honour him, who in so dear account  
Holds the true sons of the Syonian Mount:  
Him leaving, henceforth standing brave enrolled  
Amongst the Ancient Roman Peers of old,  
(Maecenas, Varus, Pollio, Patrons all;)  
Whose showers of bounty down did daily fall,  
On merit and true worth; and men of Art  
Cherished, and by their goodness kept in heart.  
Forsooth the Lord, whom I so truly vaunt,  
All noble virtues in his bosom haunt,  
And as himself indeed right learned is,  
Which (Ah great pity) most great men do miss,  
So hath he als''s ' a bounteous heart, to prize  
And tender virtue, and good qualities  
In all, in whomsoever they appear,  
(The very essence of a noble Peer.)  
Pardon (great Lord) this poor Parenthesis,  
Which but the skirt of thy just praise doth kiss,  
And which (by way of humble thanks) I send  
In name of my (late living) now dead friend;  
Who (living) honoured thee, and spoke all good  
Of thee and thine, and thy rare bountihood;  
That in his sickness didst so oft address  
Thy messengers and golden messages;  
Yea, and in person deign'st to visit him,  
Where in he read to him thy great esteem,  
That (had not mortal been his malady)  
It much had made to his recovery.  
The joy, and hearty comfort he conceived  
Of'th gracious words and deeds from thee received;  
God recompense this love to thee and thine  
Tenfold, which thou to that dear friend of mine,  
Whilst I return again to make an end  
Of this course web, which I did him intend,  
Which, ere I fully finish, take by the way  
(Dear not) this little what I have to say.  
Unmanly 'tis I know, for men alive  
With Soule-divorced bodies once to strive;  
Yet (well as once I loved thee) I must have  
A Contestation with thee in thy Grave.  
We see by proof 'tis usual in our Land  
For Traders, having got into their hand  
All upon trust from others what they may,  
Oft suddenly to break and run away:  
(For their own ends) not caring to undo  
Their Creditors, with wives and children too.  
Simply to cozen, and deceive is bad,  
And is of all good men in hatred had;  
But to deceive a friends especial trust  
Of all else 'tis a thing the most unjust.  
Now, though it be a thing that near concerns  
Myself, and thy best friends, yet my heart yernes,  
And I am loath (remembering what thou wast)  
Any the least aspersion here to cast  
Upon thy credit (tender and precise)  
To hurt what (living) thou so dear didst prise:  
But thou this merchant art (mine own dear not)  
And when we saw thee thrive, and full of that  
Rich merchandise of Honesty, and Grace,  
Of Goodness, and a dainty diapaze  
Of sweet harmonious worth, and virtues rare  
elsewhere to find) and which few men do care  
To traffic for; thereof we were so fain  
(And sure so should if't were to do again)  
And very fond, that eftsoons we brought forth,  
And ventured all with thee that we were worth;  
Our liking, our affection. yea our heart,  
And our best love we did to thee impart.  
But when our time of hoped gain once came,  
(With injury enough, and thy much blame)  
Thou for preferment in a better world  
Gav'st us the slip, and our care quite off hurled;  
Leaving us poor, and bankrupt hereby,  
Yea, and thou hast undone us utterly  
Sith all our Stock thou dost with thee retain,  
And we nought left have to begin again:  
And though we had, yet sith thou provest unjust  
(Mine own heart root) we know not whom to trust:  
Yet would thou hadst but lived, I dare well say  
Thou wouldst have paid while thou hadst ought to pay.  
How ere, it joys my heart to think, as I  
Live in thy debt, that thou in mine didst die.  
And howsoever I thee thus have shent,  
Yet sith thou didst but what all would, content  
Are we to sit down by our loss: could we  
But see thee now and then, and talk with thee  
As we were wont, our loss would feeme the less.  
But sith our case is quite remediless,  
And we have no means left to get our own,  
But to pursue thee whither thou art gone;  
Though say we so should do, thou wouldst allege  
(To put us off) that places privilege;  
Whence 'twould be harder to compel thee, then  
I'th' Temple Hall t'arrest a thousand men:  
Therefore, for my part, I let fall my suit  
With promise, henceforth ne'er to prosecute.  
So though through grief and creve-coeur, my heart  
Within me die, to think that we must part:  
Yet, till our next and happy interview  
I take my leave, now worthy WELD adieu:  
Farewell dear not, five hundred times farewell;  
Who (as thy names few letters say) dost dwell,  
Where now thy Maker thou hast long beheld,  
(Who by his power Heaven and earth doth wield)  
In nameless peace, and joys more manifold  
Than by my worthless tongue can ere be told:  
Take this small tribute of my love to thee  
In retribution of thy love to me.  
I to thy ingenuity appeal,  
T'accept this 〈◊〉 handful of course barley-meal;  
And these dark grains of bay-salt, pray thee hold  
In worth from him, who better would if could:  
Could my ability reach thy desert,  
The World should know what manner man thou wert.  
Suffice it me that thus my hearts true love  
(However homely) I to thee approve;  
Nathlesse (how ever mean) in loss of sleep,  
And many private tears, I did them steep;  
With much ado together them to save,  
Till I could sprinkle them upon thy grave.  
Excuse me here, that so unorderly  
My flaggie Muse thus in and out doth fly.  
Indenting to and fro, her winding course,  
Much like the brook once parted from his source,  
My grief of this disorder is the cause,  
And no disorder ever keeps the Laws:  
For grief (like love) from reason loves to swerve,  
And keeps no mean, ne measure will observe.  
And sith my plaints for thee (whom I so miss)  
Unto thy happiness injurious is,  
And bootless is for me, to think, and vain  
With tears thee hither to recall again;  
And sith I cannot more (as I want) walk,  
And talk with thee, yet oft of thee to talk  
It joys my heart; and much it comforts me  
To name thee to myself, whom more I may not see:  
Receive this payment, and what I owe more  
(As more I knowledge) must run on the score:  
Yet he that pays both what and when he can  
(Which comforts me) is held an honest man.  
Much would my love say more; but howe'er,  
Thy worth an everlasting subject were,  
And with fresh matter could beget my brain,  
Nathlesse my grief doth barren make my vain,  
And shuts up my conceit, that I can say  
No more, save Ah, alack, and welladay,  
And woe is me, with such like poor rhyme,  
And windy interjections spend the time!  
Therefore farewell, I ne'er so blessed shall be  
As to repair this my dear loss in thee,  
A man amongst ten thousand, and a friend  
Worthy this precious name; so I commend  
My love to thee, and thee (for ever blessed)  
To God, and thine eternal happy rest.   

Thus (having now performed his Obsequies)  
With thanks unto you all, (if please) arise,  
And for this time your farther plaints surcease:  
Arise ye Mourners all, 'tis time I you release.   
Sit voluisse, Sat valuisse.   

MEDITATIONES QUAEDAM DE AMICITIA, DE VITAE FRAGILITATE, DE MORTE, ET DE ANIMA.  
JUSTUS' VIVET FIDE  
DEUS PROVIDEBIT  
יהוה  
RY  
LONDONI, Excudebat R. Y. impensis G. Lathum. M.DC.XXXIV.   

MEDITATIONES DE VITAE FRAGILITATE.  

Ricordarsi il Ben Doppia la Noia.  
A Gentle friend (by way of comfort) said  
Unto a father that did sadly wail  
His sons dear loss: Ah Sir; be once paid,  
Sith all your mourning nothing can prevail.  
Why that's the thing, because I nought avail;  
That I (quoth he) so sore his death lament;  
Oh that my memory of him could fail:  
But, like Lot's wife, our eyes still back are bend  
Upon those joys, which erst we held most lief;  
The 
* 
Talia jactantem verbis conabar amicis  
Flectere; sed vulnus nil insanabile curate:  
Ite procul Medicae, non sum sanabilis, Artes:  
Ista tamen quocunque ferar me cura sequetur.   thought of which doth double present grief.   

Perdre un Amico fidele è sopra o'gni dolore.  
OF all the 
a Ovid. ad Pison. 
Nec te fortuna colentem;  
Natalesve movent, probitas spectatur in illis.   cares, and humane misery,  
Which from the Cradle to the Beer attend,  
Is none of all can touch a man more nigh,  
Than the hard 
b 
Unus amicitiae summos tenor ambit & imos;  
Rara domus tenuem non aspematur amicum:  
Raraque non humilem caleat fastosa clyentem.   loss of true approved friend;  
To whom thy fortune doth not thee commend:  
But rich or poor, thy winter, and thy spring,  
He all alike doth tender to the end.  
Each bird, while summer lasts, will sweetly sing;  
But constant Redbreast pipes his cheerful notes  
When frost, and storms dams th'others glozing throats. 
Mant. Egl. 3. 
Saepe alios qui spem dederint invenimus ore  
Magnisicos, sed re modicos; tibi fidimus uni.     

Ben ama chi non oblia.  
NO Giant's hand, no instrument of Art,  
No Anchor in the sea tenacious been  
As Love and Hate, once rooted in the heart:  
The strange effects of both are daily seen;  
Right strong they either are, yet being green,  
But when they once wax old, no power, or force  
Sufficient is to interpose between;  
He never hated who can 
* Sen. Megar. Her. furens. Una res superest mihi fratre ac parente charior, Regno & Lare, odium tui.  feel remorse:  
And in that heart love is but shallow set,  
Which time or place can make a friend forget.   

Un huomo d'ogni hora.  
Homo omnium horarum.  

* Graci Bibliotheeam, seu obambulans, vivumque Musaeum virum eruditum vocarunt, & qui velut ex professo respondere, & inextricables Authorum nodos, tanquam ex secretiore Musarum Adyto cuncta depromere atque dissolvere possit. Erasmus Chyliad.  OH where's the man that is so truly trained,  
And hath to purpose so his hours spent,  
That (if all company were him restrained)  
True solace by himself he can invent,  
And with his friend (to whatsoe'er intent)  
Can him adapt, whether in learned discourse,  
Facetious wit, and sportive merriment,  
Of Hawks, of Hounds, or long Dogs for the Course?  
Be the Theme light, or of grave consequent  
He for all turns hath money in his purse:  
This thus conpleat-accomplisht every way,  
The man of all hours is, and for all day.  
I had a friend (I have I late could say)  
Ah but the primest flowers soon fade,  
Who fitted was and furnished every way  
In depths and shallows both to swim and wade:  
Not like mechanics, in one only trade,  
But sooth 
a Ovid. ad Pisonem. Sed virtus numerosa juvat, tu pronus in omne Pectora ducis opus, seu te graviora vocarunt, Seu leviora juvant, etc.  he multum could in singulis,  
And aliquid in omnibus have said;  
No subject on the sudden came amiss,  
But he to all with profit and delight  
An able Artist could himself acquit:  
Thine be this Emblem (by thy just desert)  
For thou (thrice worthy WELD) this man of all howrs were.   

Felice chi puo.  
Blessed mote he ever be, who ever can  
Compose the joys, and sorrows of his mind,  
Choose truth from error, flower from the bran;  
Willing obey God's sacred Laws in kind;  
Decline the vice, to which he's most inclined;  
Richly contented be, what ere God send;  
'Slight injuries, as chaff before the wind,  
Find a fit wife, and faithful bosom friend:  
Who some, nay one, but all these things who can,  
Is sure a threefold-blessed, 
a 
O vos Aetherei cives (quibus esse beatis  
Contingit solis) quibus est aeterna voluptas:  
Humanas si forte preces attenditis, & si  
Non penetus miseros homines avertitis, oro  
Egregiam puramque mihi concedite mentem,  
A vero falsum discernere quae sciat apt,  
Quae bona cognoscat vera, & contraria veris;  
Ne stulte fugienda sequar, fugiamve sequenda,  
Nam si mortali cuiquam licet esse beato,  
Arbitror hoc pacto fieri me posse beatum.   tenfold-happy man.   

Il medico all anima e Dio, & all Corpo un Buon Compagno.  
Woe to the man alone (saith the wise man)  
If chance him fall, who him releeven can?  
But where two been, if one in need do stand,  
The other still is ready help at hand:  
The Great Creator so intended it,  
When he for man framed a companion fit,  
In Paradise: so help in company,  
And comfort doth in friendly help rely.  
The soul and body all's ' he tacked together,  
To be companions either unto either:  
Yea God himself, who is but one alone,  
And to that onehood will admit of none,  
Yet joys to have the Blessed Unity  
Accompanied with the sacred Trinity. 
a 
Loca sola nocent, loca sola caveto.  
Quo fugis? in populo tutior esse potes.    
Who therefore done admire loneliness  
Do rob themselves of wondrous happiness,  
And wilfully to many mischiefs run,  
Which men in company do fairly shun.  
When did th'ill spirit choose our Lord to tempt,  
But when from company he was exempt?  
And ever since he doth himself intrude  
To vacuity, and 
b 
Tristis eris si solus eris, dominaeque relictae,  
Ante oculos facies stabit ut ipsa tuos:  
Tristior idcirco nox est, quam tempora Phoebi,  
Quaeque levet luctus turba sodalis abest.   lonely solitude.  
all's ' privacy begets melancholy,  
Which mother is and nurse of lunacy.  
But in all states, in poverty, in wealth,  
In peace, in war, in sickness, and in health,  
In age, in youth, bondage and liberty,  
Sweet is the comfort of companionrie:  
For, as the soul in all extremities  
Only to God her lonely self applies,  
Whose sweet Communion if it can but gain,  
It takes her off from thinking on her pain:  
And with his presence, and kind conference  
He works such indolence upon her sense,  
That ere she wist, the time and pain at one  
With passing pleasures slipped away and gone.  
Such to the body is a hearty friend,  
The grief thereof and maladies to mend:  
Whose very presence, though he speak no word,  
Is physic of itself, and doth afford  
(Like jonas Gourd) cool shadow from the heat  
Of strong distempers, which the body beat.  
Blessed is that soul, that sickness, and that man  
Who still have God for their Physician:  
And happy manifold I him aread,  
Who such companion hath, such friend at need.  
Who (free from scurvy tricks) is right and strait,  
With whom a man may dare deliberate,  
And freely to his bosom can impart  
The nearest secrets of his very heart:  
As knowing in his breast he may them save  
Safe▪ as the dead man's ashes in his grave. 
a Ovid. ad Pisonem. 
Asperitate carens, positoque per omnia fastu  
Inter ut aequales unus numeraris amicos,  
Obsequiumque doces, & amorem quaeris amore.    
He in discourse can yield unto his friend  
Against his own knowledge (rather than contend)  
He mannerly can jest, ne captious is,  
Ne yet exceptious, apt to take amiss,  
Or peevishly in evil manner wrest  
What's merely spoken merrily in jest;  
No babbler, ne no critic in a house,  
Unmanly-humerous, nor mutinous.  
To him all one the kennill and the wall;  
Nathlesse, (all be he affable to all)  
To all he'll not be fellow, but doth ken  
To difference himself from other men,  
Lest whilst humility he do profess,  
He fall into the tax of silliness.  
He knows his good to all, and how to bow,  
And to his greater's due respect allow;  
Ne doth it hold disparage, or disgrace  
His friends (even meanest) favours to embrace  
With thankfulness; which is a virtue full  
Of strong Attraction, and doth pull,  
And draw (like loadstone) every heart and mind  
With grace and bounty to us be inclined.  
All his own 
b Meminisse debet is in quem collatum est beneficium, non commemorare qui contulit.  actual kindness he forgets,  
But passive favours puts amongst the dets,  
Which by recognizance he at a day  
Upon great penalty is bound to pay:  
So fair 
c Ovid. ad Pis. 
Additur huc & justa fides, & plena pudoris.  
Libertas, Animusque mala ferrugine purus,  
Ipsaque possesso mens est opulentior auro.   conditioned every way, and good,  
That by his outside well is understood,  
How ever he been of worldly fortune sped,  
That he is doubtless Gentle borne, and bred.  
Lo here a friend, well worth his weight in gold,  
Though in this dirty age his gold prove dross,  
And this rare Jewel, every one do hold  
(Not set in gold) contemptible as moss.  
What can him want now, who for each disease  
Such Physic, and Physicians hath as these?  
Who have a salve for every sort of sore,  
And Cordials for all griefs and pains in store? 
d Ovid. 
Semper habe Pyladem aliquem qui curet orestem  
Hic quoque amicitiae non levis usus erit.    
In health who soul and body than will save,  
Let still in store these two Physicians have.   

Come il simulacro del Re di Babilone.  
Frail 
a 
O Fragilis nimium innumerisque obnoxia vita  
Casibus, O nimium brevis atque incerta recedens  
Fumi instar, nunc hic moritur, nunc ille, hodie tu,  
Cras ego, sic demum paulatim extinguimur omnes.   flesh (how ever goodly thou appear  
In outward show, and glorious as the Sun:)  
How can a little sickness change thy cheer?  
And thy lives thread, how ever purely spun,  
With pain how is it broke and quite undone?  
How seem'st thou like that image over all,  
Whereof y'dreamt that King of Babylon,  
Whose bulk was Gold and costly Mineral,  
But Oh poor prop, the pillars and the base  
Were crumbly clay which did sustain this mighty mass. 
Natalis Chytr. in viatico. 
Quid nisi foetor homo est? foetores inter & alvo  
Gignitur, & latitat; tener è foetente favissa  
Eruitur foetens; totius tempore vitae  
Seize intra foetet, foetores ejicit ex se  
Corpus inane animae, tandem foetore maligno  
A se abigit cunctos; & cum foetore, sepulchro  
Foetenti infertur; quaeso unde superbia tanta  
Nos inflat? tanto cur cum torpore, geluque  
Coelestem patriam, (expertem foetoris) avemus?     

Non temete, la morte solament e cattiva a cativa Gente.  
O Death, the hateful issue of man's sin,  
Who since thy birth, dost greedily devour  
Thy Parents children! Oh what canst thou win  
In browzing a soft twig before his hour?  
What hast thou thereby done, but given him power  
(As Justices their passports wont to grant)  
To pass hence freely to that sacred bower,  
(The bower of bliss,) where blessed Angels haunt?  
Henceforth I 
a 
Mors quasi regia via est in coelum.  One. Tuscul. quaest. Mors non est interitus, omnia tollens atque delens, sed quaedam quasi migratio, commutatioque vitae quae in claris viris & foeminis dux in Coelum solet esse.  fear thee less, who dost but send  
Poor Pilgrims sooner to their weary journeys end.   

L'Huomo e Ampulla fatta del Acqua, & deal Aria disfatta.  
What thing is man that God should him respect?  
Or what is life, that man so tenderly  
Should hug it so, or dear it affect?  
Lo here an emblem of mortality,  
Whom nor green years could warrant from to die,  
Nor innocence (the good man's daily feast)  
No privilege, ne no immunity  
That flesh can challenge why to be released,  
Could ere redeem, such is the law of all,  
Only like fruit 
a 
Serius aut citius finem properamus ad unum.   some sooner and some later fall.  
I saw this blossom 
b 
Mors & fugacem persequitur virum  
Ne parcit imbellis juventae poplitibus  
Tumidoque tergo.   blasted in the spring,  
I saw this flower withered in the bud,  
And to my hearts eternal sorrowing:  
This lamp new lighted, being all too good  
Longer to burn in it own oilily blood,  
I drowned saw, and quite extinguished:  
Such is condition of all fleshlyhood.  
Just like a 
c Mant. Egl. 3. 
Heu miserande puer tenera sublata juventa  
Quae tibi nascenti luxerunt Sydera? quae tam  
Noxia pars Coeli est, ut te nil tale merentem  
Laeserit, & primis infortunaverit annis?   bubble that's engendered  
Of air and blistered water, which eftsoon  
Breaks, and with each small puff of wind's again undone.   

Monocchio, non e misero nel presenza del cieco.  
When I consult the sacred 
a Neve tam graviter eos casus feramus, quos nullo consilio vitare possimus, eventisque aliorum memoria repetendis, nihil accidisse nobis novi cogitemus.  Histories,  
And other Stories of inferior sort,  
And find therein, what under mysteries,  
And plainly what they of man's life report,  
Oft in the prime, oft suddenly cut short,  
And every day sad samples thereof see,  
Me seems they secretly do me exhort  
To fit myself, the very next to be,  
And 
b Seneca. Tum sibi foelix pauper videtur, quando foelices cecidisse videt.  meekly more my misery to bear,  
Compared with others (greater in degree)  
As he, whose one eye perled is, and blear,  
Seems 
c Ovid. 
Qui miser est aliena suis graviora retractet,  
Fortius excipiet quae mala cunque cadent.   blessed to him, who can at all not see.  
So 
d Thales interrogatus quo pacto quis ferret infortunium, Si, inquit, quis videat hostes malis majoribus obnoxios; multi enim ex contemplatione alienae foelicitatis suam calamitatem exasperant.  they, who others greater grief and moan,  
Can call to mind, gain strength to bear their own.   

Animali d'ogni sorte se trovarno nel Rete della morte.  
HOw many a subtle snare and guileful gin  
Hath man devised, and daily doth devise,  
To take all sorts of feathered fowls therein?  
Some birds nathlesse, so wary been and wise  
Not to be ta'en for all his subtleties.  
But there's a fowler lays his deadly gins  
Man to entrap, as man doth birds surprise,  
Spreading his nets when his life first begins:  
And though all things his fatal nets perceive,  
Yet never bird this fowler could deceive.  
All sorts 
a Owen Epigr. 
Restituunt furtum fures, vi rapta latrones,  
Omnia mors aufert restituitque nihil.   to him been all indifferent,  
Ringtailes, Buzzards, Puttocks, Ravens, Crows, Pies,  
Th'imperial Eagle, and the Falcon Gent,  
Pigeons, Parakitoes, Peacocks, and Popingies,  
And Nightingales which pipe and minstrelize  
By night, to all that (fearful) shun the day;  
Yea, and the Phoenix (if yet mortal eyes  
Such Phoenix ever saw as Stories say)  
In that 
b 
Aucupis horrendi fatalia retia cerne,  
Aucupium cujus nulla fefellit avis.   foule-crab-fac'd-fowlers horrid hands.  
Must gasp their last-fetcht-breath; see where he stands.   

O'gni dolore nuntio di morte.  
SOre sick him chanced a jolly Courtier fall,  
Though not to death (as he him surely thought)  
But death (unthought of) doth upon him call,  
And ready was away him to have caught;  
Whereat amazed, this Courtier him besought  
Not all so suddenly him to surprise,  
But respite him some time, that so he might  
Prepare himself to die before he dies:  
And three days warning prays him send before  
He from this light his life did mean to reave,  
To which death soon agrees, so takes his leave.  
Many years after, as this Courtier sat  
(For aught he felt) in perfect strength and health,  
Seriously thinking how to antedate  
Another's life, and seize on all his wealth,  
Death suddenly comes skipping in by stealth  
Crying away 
a Nemo obitum novit, tempusuè, locumuè, diemuè. .  
The Gallant him upbraids of promise breach:  
Not I (quoth death) but thou false to thyself: 
b Ad mortem omnes maturi sumus, & semper ex quo nati imo antequam nati; multis namque morbis, tanquam mortis apparitoribus, ac satellitibus, infestatur vita humana, quos nonnulli Medici ●000 nominarunt, omissis novis morborum generious, quae nominibus carent.   
Five fits o'th' stone, four agues, two fevers, each  
Gray-haire, the pain and loss of teeth; all these,  
With many a wrinkle, since I from thee went,  
My warnings, and forerunners I thee sent.   

Dopo il Givoco, cosi va nel sacco il Re, come il Pedone.  
IF in my weak conceit (for self disport)  
The world I sample to a 
a 
Vita anceps maris est cursus, jactamur in alto,  
Saepeque naufragiis nos graviora manent.   Tennis-court,  
Where fate and fortune daily meet to play,  
I do conceive, I do not much misse-say.  
All manner chance, are Rackets, wherewithal  
They bandy men like balls, from wall to wall:  
Some 
b 
Incertosque fuo dirigit arbitrio  
Adversum his spirans cursum, illisque secundum  
〈◊〉, sed sub humo, portus utrisque manet.   over Line, to honour and great place;  
Some under Line, to infame and disgrace;  
Some with a cutting stroke, they nimby send  
Into the hazard placed at the end;  
Resembling well the rest which all they have,  
Whom death hath seized, and placed in their grave:  
Some o'er the wall they bandy quite away,  
Who never more are seen to come in play:  
Which intimates, that even the very best  
Are soon forgot of all, if once deceased.  
So, (whether silke-quilt ball it be, or whether  
Made of course cloth, or of most homely leather;)  
They all alike are banded to and fro,  
And all at last to self same end do go,  
Where is no difference, or strife for place:  
No odds between a Tripe-wife and your Grace:  
The penny-counter's every whit as good,  
As that, which in the place of thousands stood.  
When once the Audit's full cast up, and made  
The 
c Chrysost. Proficiscamur ad Sepulchrum, ostend mihi patrem, ostend mihi matrem tuam, ubi est qui purpuram induebat? Nihil video nisi ossa putrida; differentiam nullam video: Sic omnes in universum, post miserum funus, fumus & umbra sumus.  learned Arts well as the manual Trade:  
The Prisoner and the Judge upon the Bench:  
The pampered Lady, and the Kitchenwench:  
The noble Lord, or Counsellor of State,  
The botchy-Lazer, begging at the gate,  
Like Shrubs, and Cedars-mingled ashes, lie  
Without distinction, when they once do dye.  
Ah for unpartial death, and th'homely grave  
Look equal on the freeman, and the slave.  
So most unpartial umpires are these twain;  
A King with them 's but as a common Swain.  
No upper hand, 'twixt dust of poor and rich;  
No Marshal there to sentence which is which:  
And once 
d 
Manes servus erat dum vixit, mortuus idem,  
Aeque ac Dacicus libera jura tenet.   resolved to powder, none can ken,  
The dust of Kings from dust of other men:  
But as at Chess, when once the game is done,  
The side which lost, and that as well which won.  
The victor King, and conquered pawn together  
Jumbled, are tumbled to th' same bag of leather,  
Without regard, whether the pawn or King  
Therein lie uppermost or underling. 
e 
Heu vivunt homines tanquam mors nulla sequatur,  
Aut velut infernus fabula vana foret.  Quomodo Regi Babyloniorum è summo dignitatis fastigio ad inferos dejecto insultarunt mortui variis sannis atque laedariis, vide insignem illum locum apud Esaiam, cap. 24.   
Nathlesse all sorts, each sex of purpose wink:  
And of this destiny done seldom think:  
Living (alack) as life should never fail,  
And deem of death but as an old wife's tale.   

Post mortem nescio cujus.  
Why do the mighty bear themselves so high,  
And vaunt their parentage and long descent?  
Why do the rich so swell with surquedry  
Of their huge wealth, which is but to them lent,  
But till their lives uncertain term be spent?  
Though where's the odds, or what's the difference  
Between the wealthy and the indigent,  
When both unto the grave once part from hence?  
Within a while their dust so mingled is,  
That none can safely say, this dust was his, or his:  
So have I seen the boistrous-bodyed oak,  
That above all, her wide-spred arms enhanced,  
I saw it lopped with many a sturdy stroke,  
From side to side I saw it thorough lanced,  
I saw it fall and headlong disadvanced:  
The silly shrub that there beside was grown,  
I likewise saw quite rooted up and rancht:  
I saw them both into the fire thrown;  
I saw them wasted, and in ashes lie,  
But whethers ashes were by no means could descry:   

Il sonno e una morte vivente.  
When I do weigh how little differing  
Life 
a Vix uno passu à morte absumus; uno gradu nos & mors dividimur: quotidie per fenestras penetrat aedes nostras.  is from death, how little or nought at all  
Death is from sleep, when near so small a thing  
Can make them all be transubstantiall,  
Oh what amazement on my mind doth fall!  
And I do wonder how I sleep or wake,  
Sith unto death, in nature they so near partake.  
And in the morning after quiet sleep,  
When I consider to how weak a guard  
My precious life I did commit to keep,  
Being for death a thing not very hard  
To seize his brother's right, sith if compared,  
Sleep 's but a 
b Owen. Epigr. 
Angli Bed vocirant lectum, Cambrique Sepulchrum:  
Lectus enim tumuli, mortis imago sopor.   breathing death, death breathless sleep,  
I feel a tingling chillness over all my bones to creep.   

Prosopopeia Corporis Animae valedicturi: Adios a rivederci.  
MY lovely friend, that long hast been content  
To dwell with me in my poor Tenement,  
Whose bulk and all the stuff, both warp and woof,  
Is all of clay, the floor and the roof:  
Though yet thou ne'er foundst fault; ne didst upbraid  
This homely hermitage, so meanly made;  
O 
a Animula, vagula, blandula, hospes, comesque corporis, quò nunc abibis in loca Pallida, horrida, nubila; nec ut soles, dabis jocos.  mine own darling, my dear dainty one,  
And wilt thou now indeed from me be gone?  
Ah, for thou seest all running to decay  
The thatchie 
b Horat. Ep. 2. 
Singuli de nobis Anni praedantur euntes  
Eripuere jocos, Venerem, Convivia, Lusus.   covering 's now nigh fall'n away:  
The windows, which give light to every room,  
Broken, and dim, and misty been become.  
The 
c Juven. Sat. 10. 
Una senum facies cum voce trementia membra.  
Et jam leve caput madidique infantia Nasi  
Frangendus misero gingiva panis inermi.   Mill-house, and self Miller's out of frame,  
My Kitchen smokes, my Larder is too blame,  
And from the Studds each where the Loam doth shrink,  
And the breeme cold blows in at every chink.  
The brases and supporters of my house  
Tremble, and waxen wondrous ruinous.  
So that all be it grieve me to the heart,  
To think that thou and I (old friends) must part;  
Yet, sith my Cabban's all out of repair,  
(Darling) farewell, go sojourn now else where,  
In some clean place, until that premier Main  
That built me first, rebuild me up again,  
All of the self same stuff, but with such art,  
So polished, and embellished every part,  
That it shall ne'er be out of Kilture more:  
Then shalt thou come again, as heretofore,  
And dwell with me for ever and for aye:  
(So God us both to bless until that happy day.)   

Dalinea Cielo all Cielo.  
SUndry opinions amongst learned men  
Have raised been about the means and way,  
And 'bout the certain time, and season when  
That soul of man, which never can decay,  
Into the body doth itself convey:  
Whether't beginning with the body take,  
Or long before: if so, where it doth stay:  
Which strife the soul itself thus plain doth make.  
From 
* Owen. epigr. 
Corporis est Genitor Genitor, mens Numine Divum  
Ducit ab ingenito non generata Genus:  
Coelitus orta mihi mens est, non extraduce, nam si  
Corpore cum reliquo mens oritur; moritur.   Heaven I, not from man's seed proceed,  
For with the body if it rise it dies.   

Animae Prosopopeia.  
Morta la pecora non cresce piu la lana.  
Ye gentle friends, who mourning here, attend  
My liveless corpse, unto this Earthy bed,  
There leaving it to sleep until the end,  
When all shall live again, who now are dead,  
Weep not for me, sith I can neither see,  
Nor hear your tears that here for me are shed:  
Ne all your prayers a whit can profit me.  
The sheep once dead, the wool ne'er grows again,  
But as she dies it lies, all after-helpes are vain.  
Agree therefore while ye are in the way  
With death the adversary of mankind:  
For when he comes, no prayer can make him stay,  
But he takes all sorts as he doth them find.  
If good, 'tis not in him to make them bad;  
If bad, no time to mend by him assigned:  
What faith and hope we at our parting had  
Is only ours; but all done after death  
Nor hurts, nor helps, but passeth with the breath.  
For whilst we live, though at last gasp we been,  
Our own or others prayers moat done us good:  
Between the stirrup and the ground, between  
The bridge, and headlong downfall to the flood,  
Mercy can cause the soul catch hold of grace:  
But soon as once the life forsakes the blood,  
So fast it posteth to its proper place  
Of weal, or woe, where it must ever stay,  
No prayer it overtakes, or profit may.  
The ardent suit of that great man of meat  
Was him denied; a seeming-small request;  
One moist cool drop to quench his scalding heat:  
Yet, sith before his prayer he was possessed  
Of his just doom, his due-deserved meed,  
His tardy suit forth of the Court was cast:  
For as the soul once from the body freed,  
No more may be recalled, no more can she  
By any humane help relieved be.  
In vain therefore done silly souls rely  
On prayers of friends at their departure hence:  
Sith with our last breath, Heaven instantly  
Is won or lost, no coming is from thence:  
Ne is redemption from the place of Hell.  
And Purgatory is a mere nonsense,  
Where goodman's souls, till bought from thence, must dwell:  
Only his prayers, whose blood for us was shed,  
Living, and dying stands our souls in stead.   

Divortium Animae.  
HAst ever known two 
* Elegantissima descriptio duorum amantium valedicentium apud Ovid. Met. lib. 2. 
Et laniata comas, complexaque corpus amantis  
Vulnera supplevit lachrymis, fletumque cruore:  
Miscuit, & gelidis in vultibus oscula figens,  
Pyrame clamavit, etc.   faithful bosom friends,  
Affected like in all their aims, and ends.  
After long absence, hast observed their meeting,  
Their overjoy, and manner of their greeting:  
Silent, long-looking in each others faces,  
Whilst each his friend within his arms embraces,  
Like April-showr's, and Sunshine mixed together,  
Each weeping, and each laughing over either,  
Till mutual passions having run their course,  
Both by degrees, fall freely to discourse?  
Ah, but say now, hast ever seen these twain  
Upon occasion forced to part again?  
Hast seen two lovers, new made man and wife,  
Enforced to part? how bitter is their strife?  
What sighs? what tears? what nameless Creve-coeur?  
What grief unutterable done they endure?  
What loud Alewes? what heaviness of heart?  
What lamentations when they come to part?  
What anguish? and with what a deal of pain  
Take these their leave, as ne'er to meet again?  
Hast seen a man from his dear home exiled?  
Hast heard 
a Seneca Troas. 
Brevem moram lagire, dum officium parens  
Nato supremum reddo, & amplexu ultimo  
Avidos dolores satio;  
Lachrymis, Ulysse parva quam petimus mora est  
Concede, parvos ut mea condam manu  
Viventis oculos.   a mother parting from her child?  
What weeping, wailing, and what heaviness?  
What contristation, even to excess?  
And how unable reason is to sway  
Th'unbeveled passion, or it make obey?  
Or hast thou ere observed that passionate,  
And doleful quest, that heart affecting-blate  
Of lambs, lamenting their dear dams restraint?  
Or marked the mournful noise and piteous plaint,  
Doubled, and oft redoubled by the dams,  
At present parting from their little lambs?  
Hast ere been present at some City's sack,  
And seen 
b 
Quis cladem illius noctis, quis funera fando  
Explicet, aut possit lachiymis aequare dolorem?   the havoc, and the woeful wrack,  
When to the surly soldier once betrayed,  
The modest matron, and the untouched maid,  
So most 
c Virgil. Eg. 1. 
Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit,  
Barbaras has segites.   unmannerly, spite of their heart,  
With their dear honours are compelled to part?  
What reluctation, and what sturdy strife?  
What means, what shifts, the jewel of their life  
To save from spoil, and loss? what vows, what prayer?  
What humble ' behaviour? and what speaking fair?  
What deep distraction? and what heavy cheer?  
How loath to yield (alack) yet ne'er the near.  
Like loath, and with as much, or more ado,  
Body and soul each other do forgo.  
Ah when the soul comes warning once to give,  
That she no longer in her house will live:  
Ne, not so much as sojourn any more,  
Where she hath dwelled so many years before,  
At this sad news, like fruit with windy blast,  
Down in a transe the weakly body 's cast:  
Inly, the very bowels yearn with grief,  
The stomach nauseats at wont relief,  
The straightened lungs breath hardly, short and thick,  
The head 's distempered, and the heart is sick,  
And every room and corner of the house  
Filled with dark steams and vapours nubilous.  
In this disconsolate and sickly state,  
The soul the body doth commiserate;  
And through mere sympathy is ill at ease;  
Therefore all grief on both sides to appease,  
And now resolved no longer while to stay,  
She forth of doors slips suddenly away.  
Eftsoons all's hushed, and the whole house at rest,  
Only the eyes which but they been suppressed  
Wide open stand, and their lids upward raise,  
Still after her, that was their life and light, to gaze.   

O valente huomo chi puo esser misero.  
FUll easy 
a Marti. epigr. 
Rebus in adversis facile est contemnere vitam:  
Fortior ille facit, qui miser esse potest.   is for men in misery  
Weary of life, t'importune death to die,  
Who dare not look misfortune in the face,  
Nor grief, nor pain, nor sickness, nor disgrace,  
But cowardly with horror, and dismay  
Out of themselves, oft times do run away.  
Like Grasshoppers, that skip, and sing, and dance  
While Summer lasts; but as flies, in a transe,  
When Winter comes, with storms accompanied  
In every hole, and corner them do hide,  
Quite out of love with life, for such to call  
For death, no fortitude it is at all.  
But he whose countenance at all assays,  
Is ever one, 
b 
Prospera non loetum fecere, nec aspera tristem,  
Aspera risus erant, prospera terror erant:  
Non decor effecit fragilem, non sceptra superbam  
Sola potens humilis, sola pudica decens.   in Sun or cloudy days:  
Whose mind can bend, as buxom as a twig  
To all estates, be't high, low, small, or big,  
If fortune say he must do thus, or thus,  
With her the matter he doth ne'er discuss.  
Who with same 
c Et hoc ipsum est (si intelligamus) solatium aequo animo perdere, quod periturum erat. Sen. Epist. 99  freeness, that he wins can lose,  
Who with small noise can bear all fortunes blows:  
And any part that fortune shall her please  
To put him to, can personate with ease;  
This is a man, one of a thousand men,  
A 
d Gallinae filius albae. Juven. Sat. 13.  right-bred chicken of the milk-white hen.  
Right truly wise and valiant is 
e Magnitudinis animi proprium est nihil extimescere omnia humana dispicere, nihil quod homini possit accidere intolerandum putare. Cic. Epist. lib. 2. Offic.  this man,  
Who self submit to all manner weather can;  
Who against it comes, for fortune doth provide,  
Not moved with Ebb, nor flowing of her tide.  
So great the strength of his true tempered mind  
To welcome fair and foul in self same kind.  
Come good? why well, and good: come bad? why well:  
So against all pains, his patience is his spell:  
He eekes, nor aggravates his weal, or woe;  
Ne takes long farewells of them when they go,  
And in his open door still ready stands,  
When ere they come, to take them by the hands:  
So evenly he knows to bear himself; 
f Juven. Sat. 13. 
Dicimus autem  
Hos quoque foelices, qui ferre incommoda vitae,  
Nec jactare jugum vita didicere magistra.    
He rich in poverty, and poor in wealth;  
Either or neither can contented be:  
Oh blessed man, how fe●e in bonds is he?  
Who though his bread too sour of leaven taste,  
Can eat and it digest as finest paste:  
And water drink, yea vinegar for need.  
This is the truly 
g Senec. 
Qui vultus Acherontis atri  
Qui styga tristem, non tristis videt,  
Audetque vitae ponere finem,  
Par ille Regi, par Superis est.   valiant man indeed.   

L'Envoy.  
MOngst all things possible, and yet so hard,  
Almost next door t'impossibilitie;  
That man or woman is, who having fared  
All their life long, and lived deliciously:  
Not crossed nor vexed with contrariety  
Of chance or fortune, which most men dismay  
When death them calls, can answer patiently.  
Wherefore my soul, do thou still humbly pray,  
Nature of nature, good God, grant, when I  
Must leave to live, power willingly to die.  
Naturae natura, Deus bone, cum mihi posse  
Vivere sustuleris, da mihi velle mori.  
FINIS.