❧ A memorable Epitaph, made upon the lamentable complaint of the people of England, for the death of the right honourable Sir Francis Walsingham Knight: principal Secretary of Estate, Chancellor of her majesties Court for the Duchy of Lankaster, and one of her highness most honourable privy Council. Who deceased at his house in London on the 7. day of April last passed. Anno. Dom. 1590.  
WHo mourns not for the present loss that England doth sustain?  
Who hath not cause this doleful day, with tears for to complain?  
And wail the grievous want of him, who was a special stay,  
And perfect pillar to the state of England every way.  
I mean Sir Francis Walsingham, a Knight of great account,  
Whose wisdom in a Common wealth, most men did sure surmount.  
Of honourable place he was, beloved of Prince and Peers,  
And found most trusty to the state of England many years.  
His life too great a loss, if Prince with gold might it redress,  
His life so dear as none but may with blubbering tears confess,  
That England by his death hath lost a jewel of such store,  
As in the service of his place, the like God send us more.  
His want is great and grievous too, this no man can deny,  
When Prince and people wail his loss with many a weeping eye.  
The noble Lords of English soil: and chief of England's Peers,  
Lament the death of this good Knight, and shed forth trickling tears.  
The states of Scotland and of France, of Holland and the rest  
Of the united Provinces, with sorrow have expressed:  
Gone is the chief of worthy Knights in whom did wisdom flow,  
Gone is Sir Francis Walsingham the scourge of England's foe.  
Gone is the man that doubtless was a prop to England's state.  
Who pitied every stranger's suit that came unto his gate.  
Gone is the Knight that careful was, all suits to end with speed,  
As did pertain to the relief of those that stood in need.  
Gone is the man that watchful was for safety of this land,  
To keep the Queen and Realm in peace, and treason to withstand,  
Gone is the Knight that did reward all men of each degree,  
That travelled aught for England's good, so good a Knight was he.  
Gone is the man that careful was our quiet to procure,  
For grave advise and counsel good, we found him firm and sure,  
The people to of English soil lament with inward grief,  
And say he was the chiefest stay and staff of their relief.  
They bid farewell unto this Knight who tendered each man's case,  
Found free from bribery to his end: few such will come in place.  
A perfect zeal to honour good in him did alway rest,  
And true Religion to advance his love he still expressed.  
He hated all idolaters and popish Traitors too,  
He rooted out such wicked weeds as much as he might do.  
To sincere Preachers of God's word, he was a special stay,  
And in his house he maintained such, to preach God's word each day.  
Deceit he banished from his house, fraud lodg'de not in his mind,  
The marks of true and Christian life, in him each one did find.  
His judgement flood with justice still, where as his doom was set,  
His will was still, each man he had, should pay his utmost debt.  
To prison he would none commit, but just cause he would see,  
And what he did was always done in perfect charity.  
Which makes each man to wring his hands, & sigh with inward moan,  
And saith in anguish of their mind, Our chiefest stay is gone.  
Farewell Sir Francis Walsingham, that usury sore didst hate,  
That still didst good to rich and poor that came unto thy gate.  
Farewell the comfort of the poor, that to them alms did give,  
Farewell the stay to Soldiers good, while he on earth did live.  
Farewell the comfort of the Court, and London's daily friend,  
Farewell to thee that for the poor thy Letters far wouldst send.  
Farewell the suitor for the poor, that seldom let thee rest,  
Farewell the friend to fatherless and widows sore oppressed.  
Farewell the care for Country's good, when Corn was prised so high,  
Farewell the Knight that succourd'st those that then were like to die.  
Farewell and thousand times farewell thou good and worthy Knight,  
That in the cause of poor and rich, full many a wrong didst right.  
Farewell thou good and friendly Knight to Scholars poor and bare,  
Of Cambridge and of Oxford to, of whom thou hadst great care,  
Farewell all suitors say, he showed himself most kind,  
He courteously would take their plaints and tell them soon his mind.  
His Lady wails, his Daughter weeps, his kinsfolk sighing sits,  
His Servants wail and wring their hands as folk besides their wits.  
The rich do miss him every day, the poor shall want him still,  
And many wish him now alive if that it were Gods will.  
But tears sufficeth not at all, let us assured stand,  
His soul is placed in heaven with Christ, which sits on God's right hand,  
He lived well, and well he died, he made a godly end,  
For to Almighty God his soul with zeal he did commend.  
God grant her highness still may have such careful members store,  
That she may live and reign in peace, in England evermore.  
And grant that his well governed life, a Loadstone still may be,  
To such as shall from time to time serve in such high degree.  
Grant Lord that they may zealous be the Gospel to defend,  
And shun for to be covetous, even till their lives do end.  
Then shall her highness live in joy, and England shall be free,  
From Turk, from Pope, from sword, from fire, and force of enemy.  
FINIS.  
Tho. Nelson.   

¶ Printed for William Wright.