Some few years since, I road to my Lord's Manor of Haleing in Surrey, where I presented his Lordship with a Manuscript, or written Book of the names and degrees of all the Knights of the Noble Order of the Garter, since the first institution by King Edward the third, which was of mine own collections out of Windsor Castle, and some authentic Histories: His Lordship received it gratefully, and rewarded me honourably: in the which Book was an Anagram of his Name and Earldom of Nottingham, which I hold very fitting to be hereunder Printed, because it falls correspondent to the reverence of his age, and the happiness which the words import.   

Charles Howard, Earl of Nottinghame.  
Anagramma.  
O Heaven calls, and hath true Glory for me.  

And happy was this happy Anagram,  
Heaven calls Charles Howard Earl of Nottingham:  
And he obeyed the call, and gained true Glory,  
For change of earthly titles transitory.    

FOR THE SACRED MEMORIAL OF THE GREAT, NOBLE, and ancient Example of Virtue and Honour,  
The Illustrious and Well-beloved LORD, CHARLES' HOWARD Earl of Nottingham, justice in Eyre of all his Majesty's Forests, Parks, and Chases on this side Trent; Knight of the Honourable Order of the Garter, and one of the Lords of his Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council.  
WHO DEPARTED THIS Life at his Manor of Haleing in Surrey on Thursday the 14 of December, 1624. and was buried at Rigate, amongst his Honourable Ancestors, the 20 of December last. 1624.  
Printed at London for H. G. 1625.   

TO THE RIGHT Honourable, Right Worshipful, of both Sexes, who had either alliance by Marriage, Consanguinity by Birth, or bore love to the Right Noble and truly virtuous deceased.  

I Humbly crave your Worthiness t'excuse  
This boldness of my poor unlearned Muse,  
That hath presumed so high a pitch to fly,  
In praise of Virtue and Nobility,  
I know this task most fit for Learned men,  
For Homer, Ovid, or for Virgil's pen:  
But for I with him have both served and sailed,  
My grateful duty hath so far prevailed,  
Boldly to write true Honours late decease,  
Whiles better Muses please to hold their peace.  
And thus much to the world my Verse proclaims,  
That neither Gain nor Flattery are my aims,  
But Love and Duty to the Noble dead,  
Hath caused me cause these Lines be published.  
And therefore I entreat your generous Hearts,  
T'accept my duty, pardon my deserts,  
Bear with my weakness, wink at my defects,  
Good purposes do merit good effects,  
Poor earthen Vessels may hold precious Wine,  
And I presume that in this Book of mine  
In many places you shall something find,  
To please each Noble well affected mind.  
And for excuse my Muse doth humbly plead,  
That you'll forbear to judge before you read.   
He that is ever a true wellwisher, and obsequious Servant to your Honours, Worships, and Noble Personages; john Taylor.   

For the sacred Memorial of the Great, Noble, and Ancient Example of Virtue and Honour, the Illustrious and well-beloved Lord, Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, justice in Eyre of all his Majesty's Forests, Parks, and Chases on this side Trent; Knight of the Honourable Order of the Garter, and one of the Lords of his Majesty's most Honourable Privy Council, etc.  

WHat English Muse forbears to shed a tear  
For England's Nestor, gravest oldest Peer?  
Not only old in number of his days,  
But old in virtue, and all good men's praise:  
Whose actions all his pilgrimage did pass,  
More full of honour then his title was.  
And though his corpse be severed from his spirit,  
And that the world sufficient knows his merit:  
Yet shall my poor unworthy artless Verse  
In duteous service wait upon his Hearse.  
Myself his Honour on the Seas attended,  
And with his bounty have I been befriended,  
And to acquit me from unthankfulness,  
My lines shall here my gratitude express.  
No monumental Marble reared on high,  
He needs t'emblaze him to posterity,  
No flattering Epitaph he needs to have,  
To be engraved upon a gaudy grave,  
His life and actions are his Monument,  
Which fills each Kingdom, Clime, and Continent.  
And when their memories shall stink and dye,  
Who in most stately sepulchres do lie,  
Then Royal Histories shall still relate  
To each degree, or age, or sex, or state,  
The virtue, valour, bounty, and the fame  
Of England's all beloved Nottinghame:  
And Noble hearts his memory shall retain  
Until the World to Chaos turn again.  
That year of wonderment called eighty eight,  
When Fraud and Force did our destruction wait,  
When Hell, and Rome, and Spain did all agree,  
That we should vanquished and invaded be.  
Our foes at Sea thirty one thousand men,  
With near four hundred ships and Galleys then,  
Then this White Lion roused with ireful teen,  
Defending both his Country and his Queen.  
Like second Mars to battle brave he went,  
God making him his worthy Instrument,  
His Chieftain, Champion, and his General,  
With sixscore ships, and Vessels great and small,  
To conquer those that did for conquest come,  
And soil the power of Hell, and Spain, and Rome.  
Then valour was with resolution mixed,  
And manhood with true honour firmly fixed.  
When death and danger threatened every where,  
Brave Charles (all fearless) did encourage fear.  
When roaring cannons counterchecked heavens thunder  
And slaughtered men their vessels keels lay under,  
The Sun eclypsed with smoke, skies dark and dim,  
And battering bullets severed limb from limb,  
When as that sea might be the Red Sea called,  
Then he with dreadless courage, unappalled,  
Like a bright Beacon, or a blazing Star,  
Approved himself a thunderbolt of war,  
Whose valour and example valiantly  
Pursued and won a glorious victory.  
And then by him (through the Almighty's hand)  
Preserved from invasion was this Land.  
So that who ever shall his Tomb pass by,  
And shall inquire who there doth buried lie,  
If answer be but made, He's in this Grave  
Who did in Eighty eight this Kingdom save;  
Then is the total told, and service best,  
Wherewith this little Land was ever blest.  
At 
* 1596  Cales likewise the Sea-fight we did win  
By his direction and grave discipline.  
The Spanish ships soon from his force retired,  
Some torn, some sunk, some taken, and some fired,  
And whensoe'er he gave the overthrow,  
He ne'er insulted over his conquered foe,  
But like a Noble Lion, every way  
He scorned to pray upon a yielding prey:  
With pity, piety, and true remorse,  
His clemency was mixed with manly force.  
Unto his foes a noble care he had,  
Nor would affliction to affliction add:  
So that his enemies much cause did find  
To love and honour his true noble mind.  
Yet 'gainst offenders he was sharply bend,  
Severe in threats, and mild in punishment,  
His justice would condemn, and in a breath  
His mercy saved whom justice doomed to death.  
His adversaries he did oft relieve,  
And his revenge was only to forgive.  
He knew that well got honour ne'er shall die,  
But make men live unto eternity:  
It as his greatest riches he esteemed,  
And Infamy he basest begg'ry deemed.  
He knew, though worthy spirits may be crossed,  
Yet if they lose no honour nothing's lost.  
And those that have afraid of envy been,  
True honour or good fame did never win.  
If he an avaricious mind had boar,  
Of wealth no subject than had had such store:  
So many years England's high Admiral,  
Fees, offices, and prizes that did fall,  
With gifts and favours from the Queen and State,  
And other things, amounting to a rate:  
That had he been a miser, close of hand,  
No subject had been richer in this Land,  
In deeds of pity, and true charity,  
Good house-keeping, and hospitality,  
Bounty, and courteous affability,  
He was the Brooch of true Nobility:  
And for these virtue's men shall scarcely find,  
That he a fellow here hath left behind.  
He knew that Avarice and Honour be  
Two contraries that never will agree:  
And that the Spender shall have true renown,  
When infamy the Miser's fame shall drown.  
He every way most nobly was inclined,  
And loved no wealth but riches of the mind:  
His pleasure was, that those that did retain  
To him, and serve, should by him thrive and gain:  
And he thought 'twas enough for him to have,  
When as his servants did both get and save.  
So amongst Nobles I think few are such,  
That keeps so little, gives away so much.  
His latest Will did make it plain appear,  
The love which to his servants he did bear.  
To great and small amongst them, more or less,  
His bounty did express his worthiness:  
We know that God to man hath life but lent,  
And placed it in his body's tenement,  
And when for it again the Landlord calls,  
The Tenant must depart, the Cottage falls.  
God is most just, and he will have it known,  
That he in taking life, takes but his own:  
Life is a debt which must to God be rendered,  
And Nature's retribution must be tendered.  
Some pay in youth, and some in age do pay,  
But 'tis a charge that all men must defray,  
For 'tis the lot of all mortality,  
When they begin to live, begin to dye.  
And as from sin to sin we wander in,  
So death at last is wages for our sin.  
He neither hath respect to sex or years,  
Or hath compassion of our sighs nor tears,  
He'll enter (spite of bars, or bolts, or locks)  
And like a bold intruder never knocks.  
To Kings and Caitiffs, rich, poor, great and small,  
Death plays the tyrant, and destroys them all.  
He calls all creatures to account most strict,  
And no man's power his force can contradict.  
We must perforce be pleased with what he leaves us,  
And not repine at aught which he bereaves us.  
he's lawless, and 'tis folly to demand  
Amends, or restitution at his hand.  
He doth deride the grief of those that mourn,  
And all our frail afflictions laugh to scorn.  
For he condemns, and never hears the cause,  
He takes away despite the power of Laws.  
Yet he our vassal ever doth remain,  
From our first birth unto our grave again:  
And God doth in his service him employ,  
To be the bad man's terror, good man's joy.  
Death is the narrow door to life eternal,  
Or else the broad gate unto death infernal:  
But our Redeemer in his spotless offering,  
Did lead the way for us to heaven by suffering.  
He was the death of death, when he did die  
Then Death was swallowed up in victory,  
And by his rising blessed souls shall rise,  
And dwell in the celestial Paradise.  
For these respects, you whose affinity,  
Propinquity, or consanguinity,  
Whose blood or whose alliance challenge can  
A part in this deceased Nobleman,  
The law of Nature and affection moves,  
That grief and sorrow should express your loves,  
He was your secondary maker, and  
Your authors earthly being, and you stand  
In duty for your lives and honours bound  
To him, for by him have you been renowned.  
Yet Death that's common unto every one,  
Should be intolerable unto none:  
And therefore let his noble spirit rest,  
Amidst those joys which cannot be expressed,  
Let those that live his goodness imitate,  
And yield unto the course of mortal fate.   
FINIS.