QUEEN EL'ZABETHS' LOSS, AND King james his welcome.   printer's or publisher's device 
VERITAS VIRESSIT WLNERE  TC 
LONDON Printed by T. C. for john Smythicke, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunston's Church. yard in Fleetstreet. 1603.   

Queen El'zabeths' loss, and King james his welcome.  

YOu sacred spirits that haunt Parnassus' spring,  
Whose soaring thoughts mounted on Pegas ' wing  
Do pierce the ●●ies 〈…〉 ising from lowly dust  
Even whom you l●t, & whom you list down thrust.  
You whom the Muses all do jointly greet,  
Eat, and drink Nectar, and Ambrosta sweet.  
My weakling Muse did many wishes make,  
That some of you her task would undertake;  
I thought in silence still my cares to keep,  
These are true tears, which we unwitnessed weep.  
But since my plaints I do so public make,  
Seemeth I put on black for fashion's sake.  
This caused my Muse her wishes to power forth,  
Some abler wit would show his Muse's worth.  
But since in vain: she takes in hand the same,  
And sings sad Anthems to Eliza's name.  
What, is Eliza's name so soon forgot?  
It cannot be: how then? she hears them not.  
Scarce one is found to sing her dying praise,  
Whom all admired and honoured in her days.  
But whilst she lived: O God yet still she lives  
In heaven! I, and on earth. Her virtue gives  
Her this: she lives in her late subjects hearts,  
She lives in her successors virtuous parts,  
She lives in him (even in despite of Fate)  
To whom she left her virtues, crown, & state.  
Her virtues fame have built her such a tomb,  
As she shall live even till the day of doom:  
And then enjoy the happy company  
Of all the blessed, everlastingly.  
Her soul (no doubt) can now already tell  
What guerdon Princes have that govern well.  
My Muse dares undertake for to disclose  
Nothing, but what the meanest reader knows.  
What subject lived in her happy days  
That felt no warmth from her resplendent rays?  
And feeling them, who would not seek to know  
The spring from whence these happy blessings flow?  
Her birth and virtuous life are so well known,  
Each one can tell as much as may be shown,  
Yet cannot this my zealous duty stay,  
Though I show nothing but what each can say.  
Greenwich, Westminster, Richmond, famous Bee,  
For she was borne, crowned, died in these three.  
Henry the eight (sprung from th'united Rose,  
Which match for England's good God did compose)  
Had by his second choice this bud divine,  
Whose lustre through the world so clear did shine;  
Elizabeth whom God Almighty gave  
Fullness of peace, and honour to the grave.  
Fullness of God, so doth her name import:  
How well th'event and name together sort?  
Sure there's a mystery in Princes names,  
For we do hope our royal L. King james  
Will prove a true Maintainer of the faith,  
(As both his name and his just title saith) 
Fidei defensor.   
The Pope he will supplant, Christ's Church maintain.  
King's have their names seldom imposed in vain.  
But we put on too fast, let's back return,  
And thinking on our loss again let's mourn.  
I will not speak of her exterior parts,  
But of of her mind, adorned with liberal Arts:  
Yet he that would describe them with his quill,  
Had need of Homer's or a greater skill.  
Not England only, but the world doth know  
Her learned wisdom: then what need I show  
What's so well known? how each Ambassador  
She answer could without Interpreter?  
Greek, Latin, French, Spanish, Italian,  
She understood: and spoke them every one,  
Or of her knowledge in divinity?  
Her practice showed it most apparently.  
Why tell I this? but to lament her death,  
Under whose happy reign I first drew breath.  
This rose is cropped, alas, a heavy case:  
But that 'tis planted in a better place.  
But of her life since that she lived so well,  
Be bold my Muse a little for to tell:  
So well she lived, the learnedst man of all  
It to describe would find his wit too small,  
My simpler wit, doing the best it can,  
Scarce shows a drop of that huge Ocean  
Of her praiseworthy virtues, my good will  
May (as I hope) excuse my slender skill.  
First, for her infancy and childish years  
I overslip; though even in them appears  
Matter well worthy of a brazen pen,  
And leaves of hardest Marble: but yet when  
Her riper years with judgement we do deem,  
The former than we not so much esteem.  
These virtues than come to perfection,  
The which before seemed in election.  
My slender reed doth purpose to set down  
Only such virtues as adorned her crown.  
And first as chief of all shall be expressed,  
How God's religion which herself professed  
She did establish: banished Popery,  
With superstition and Idolatry.  
Her hearty zeal sought both by deed & word,  
To build the ruined Temple of the Lord:  
Proud Antichrist, and haughty Spain did strive  
To cut her off, whom God preserved alive,  
Safely preserved with his outstretched arm  
From murder, poison, and all other harm  
Which Popish bulls, or Spanish gold procured,  
Blind zeal provoked, or wicked Mammōlur'd.  
Nay that indeed at which Spain most repines,  
She stored her treasury with Indian Mines:  
The which her bounty 'mongst her subjects parts,  
And laid up surer treasure in their hearts.  
Never was Prince of subjects better loved,  
Never in Prince like care for subjects proved.  
From poor man's suit she never turned her face,  
Her meanest subjects right she still would grace.  
Blessed be that God who lent us such a Queen,  
Whose like before no mortal eye had seen.  
The five and fortieth year of her blessed reign,  
When she had lived near three score years & ten,  
She paid the God of nature her last debt,  
And died in peace, without impeach or let  
Of homebred traitors, or else foreign foes,  
God gave this comfort to appease our woes.  
Who though she lived and died a perfect maid,  
Left such an Heir of whom it may be said,  
We lost the jewel which we loved best,  
Had it restored again with interest.  
We may well say; Had not our loss been such, 
〈…〉 jssemus perijss 〈…〉.   
('tis well we may so say) we had lost much.  
Richmond it was first brought in tudor's name,  
Richmond it was abolished the same.  
Henry of Richmond brought to us that peace  
Which all true English hearts pray ne'er may cease.  
Now pray with me all that love England's good,  
God would for ever 'stablish in his blood  
This kingdoms rule, and these to it belong,  
God still defend them from all manner wrong.  
My hopeful spirit says it so shall be,  
Since Peers and people do so well agree.  
For now the Council and the Peers are bend,  
A new King to proclaim with full consent:  
Both Peers and people make the streets to ring,  
God save King james the first, our royal King.  
Each faithful subject now himself doth strain  
The best he may, his King to entertain.  
How many a joyful aves sent before:  
My (Hail) comes limping latest of a score.  
My tears (alas) do so be-blind my sight,  
I wipe mine eyes whilst they outstrip me quite;  
Yet doubt I not but that his royal mind  
Holds me excused, although I come behind.  
How can that heart loyal to him appear,  
That for Eliza cannot shed a tear?  
He knows her loss what subject doth not moan,  
Would do the like by him, if he were gone.  
And those that wash her tomb with their salt tears,  
Do wish him many, many happy years.  
Now my black plume's to red and yellow turned,  
And now I joy as fast as erst I mourned.  
My sorrows all lie buried in her tomb,  
Heart leap for joy, for now King james doth come.  
Come England's hope, come hither merrily,  
Bring with thee many years of jubilee.  
The Locusts that did wish Eliza dead,  
At thy names sound suddenly vanished.  
O if thy name had power to daunt them so,  
(Most royal King) what would thy presence do?  
Thy lineal right banished dissension,  
Thy princely virtues wrought this union.  
Our hearty prayers sent before to meet thee,  
Wish thy good speed: our eyes do long to greet thee.  
Those whom Eliza's loss wounded to death,  
Thy glorious name hath given a second breath.  
The Merchant traffics still without disturb,  
Th'artificers or tradesmen, fear no curb  
Of malcontent, Papist, or Libertine,  
Next unto God (great King) the praise be thine.  
The earth is tilled in peace, the ground is dressed,  
Each under his own vine in peace may rest.  
Thy princely wisdom, or thy rightful claim,  
My infant Muse dares scarce presume to name:  
This, hath a riper pen already done,  
And made apparent as the midday Sun:  
For that, the spacious world full well doth know  
Thyself (heroic Monarch) best can show.  
The Princely Poet, and the Poet's Prince,  
That name thou art acquainted with long since.  
Thy many virtues also are proclaimed,  
Thy justice and thy fortitude are named,  
As peerless 'mongst the rest, happy our land  
When fortitude and justice take in hand  
To guide the helm, nay thou mayst challenge all:  
Four kingdoms, and four virtues cardinal.  
Thy kingly virtues, thou a King canst tell,  
No other can declare them half so well.  
When David teacheth Solomon his son,  
Fear God (my child) and live as I have done.  
O happy is that land when Kings so teach,  
Where virtue by example they do preach.  
My Muse weeps tears of joy, in hope to prove  
David doth reign the man whom God doth love.  
King james doth reign whom God doth love so much,  
God loves them still whose love to him is such.  
Now Saturn's golden times will come again,  
And now no vice our commonweal shall stain.  
For as the King to good or bad doth frame  
His life, the people imitate the same.  
Thy England now doth like a longing wife  
Expect thy coming; then she hopes no strife  
Should dare disturb her quiet: all with one accord  
Wish to behold their King, their dread liege lord.  
And I amongst the rest of meanest place,  
Throw up my hat, and say God save your Grace.   
FINIS.   


Ad Detractores Inuidus alterius rebus macrescit opimis.  
Snarl on and spare not, Curs will snarl by kind,  
Momus to carp at, needs must something find.  
To strive with such, is labour spent in vain:  
Though an Ass kick, I will not kick again.  
Would any know who 'twas did write this book?  
He that ne'er thought so many should o'erlook  
His eight hours folly: yet now, hopes to find  
Kind censure of each well-deserving mind.  
Trusting his Majesty will pardon grant;  
Accept good will, bear with his Muse's want.   
H. S.