A Living Sadness, In Duty consecrated to the Immortal memory of our late Deceased albe-loved Sovereign Lord, The Peerless Paragon of Princes, JAMES, King of great Britain, France and Ireland.  
Who departed this Life at his Manor of Theobalds', on Sunday last, the 27. of March, 1625.  
London Printed by E. Allde for H. Gosson.    

TO THE MOST HIGH AND PVISSANT PRINCE, CHARLES by the Grace of God, the first of that Name, and second Monarch of the whole Island of Great BRITAIN:  
His undoubted Royalties being united under one and the same his most glorious Crown, the Kingdoms of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland;  
Gods Immediate Vicegerent; Supreme head of all Persons, and Defender of the true, ancient Christian Faith, in these his Empires and Dominions.  
MOst Mighty Monarch of this mourning Land,  
Upon the Knees of my submissive mind:  
I beg Acceptance at your Royal hand,  
That my Lamenting Muse may favour find.  
My Gracious Master was so good, so kind,  
So just, so much-beloved near and fare:  
Which generally did Love, and Duty bind  
From all, and from me in particular.  
But as your Majesty undoubted are  
The Heir unto his Virtues and his Crown:  
I pray, that whether HEAVEN send Peace or War  
You likewise may inherit his Renown.  
And as Death struck his Earthly Glory down,  
Left you in Majesty, and mourning Chief:  
Yet through the World apparently 'tis known  
Your Sorrow is an universal Grief.  
Let this recomfort then your Princely heart,  
That in this Duty, all men bears a part.  
Your Majesty's most humble and obedient Subject and Servant: JOHN TAYLOR.   

YOU Gushing Torrents of my Tearedrowned eyes,  
Sad Partners of my hearts Calamities.  
Tempestuous Sighs, like winds in Prison Pent:  
Which (wanting vent) my grieved soul hath Rend,  
Deep wounding Groans (Companions of unrest)  
Throngs from the Bottom of my Care-crazed Breast,  
You three, Continual fellows of my moans  
(My Brinish Tears, Sad sighs, & Pondrous Groans)  
I do entreat you never to departed  
But be the true Assistants of my heart,  
In this Great Sorrow, (that my Trembling Quill  
Describes) which, doth our land with mourning fill.  
Ah Death! could nought thy hunger satisfy,  
But thou must Glut thyself with Majesty?  
Can nothing thy Insatiate thirst Restrain,  
But Royal Blood of our Dread Sovereign?  
In this thy spite exceeds, beyond all Bounds,  
And at one Blow, 3. kingdoms filld'st with wounds.  
When thou that fatal deadly stroke didst strike,  
Then (Death) thou playd'st the Tyrant-Catholicke.  
Our griefs are Universal, and the Sum  
Cast up, the blow doth wound all Christendom.  
But wherefore (Death) do I on thee Exclaim?  
Thou cam'st in the Eternal Kings Great name,  
For as, no mortal Power can thee prevent,  
So thou dost never, Come, but thou art sent.  
And now thou cam'st upon unwelcome wings,  
To our best King, from the blessed King of Kings,  
To Summon him to change his Earthly Throne,  
For an Immortal, and a Heavenly one.  
(When men unthankful, for a good Received,  
'Tis Just that of that good they be bereaved)  
His Government, both God and Men did please,  
Except such spirits as might complain of Ease,  
Repining Passions wearied with much Rest,  
The want to be Molested, might Molest.  
Such men think Peace a Torment, and no Trouble  
Is worse than Trouble, though it should come double.  
I speak of such, as with our peace were Cloyed,  
Though War I think, might well have been Employed.  
True Britons, wish just wars to Entertain,  
(I mean no Aid for Spinola, or Spain)  
But Time and Troubles would not suffer it,  
Nor Gods Apointment would the same permit.  
He is Inscrutable in all his ways,  
And at his pleasure humbleth, and will raise,  
For Patience, is a virtue he Regardeth,  
And in the End, with victory Rewardeth.  
But whither hath my Mournful Muse digressed?  
From my beloved Sovereign Lord deceased:  
Who was to us, and we to him, Even Thus,  
To bad for him, and he, to good for us.  
For good men in their Deaths, 'Tis understood  
They leave the bad, and go unto the Good.  
This was the cause, why God did take from hence,  
This most Religious, Learned, Gracious Prince,  
This Paragon of Kings, this Matchless Mirror,  
This Faiths defending Antichristian Terror,  
This Royal al-beloved King of Hearts,  
This Pattern, and this Patron of good Arts,  
This cabinet of mercy, Temperance,  
Prudence, and justice, that doth man advance.  
This Magazine of Pious Clemency,  
This fountain of true Liberality,  
This mind, where virtue daily did increase,  
This Peaceful Servant to the God of Peace.  
This second great Apollo, from whose Rays,  
Poor Poetry did win Immortal Bayss,  
From whence the sacred Sisters, Triple Trine  
Had life and motion, Influence divine,  
These virtues did adorn his Diadem,  
And God, in taking him, hath taken them.  
Of all which Blessings, (we must needs confess)  
We are deprived for our unworthiness.  
A good man's never missed till he be gone,  
And then most vain and fruitless is our moan,  
But as Heaven's favours, down to us descended:  
So if our thankfulness had but Ascended,  
Had we made Conscience of our ways to sin,  
So soon of him, we not deprived had been.  
Then let us not lament his loss so much,  
But for our own unworthiness was such.  
So from th' unthankful jews, God in his wrath  
took good josias, by unlooked for death.  
And for our sins, our ignorance must know,  
We have procured, and felt this cureless blow.  
And Christendom, I fear in losing him,  
Is much dismembered, and hath lost a limb.  
As by the fruit the tree may be expressed,  
His works declared, his learning manifest.  
Whereby his wisdom won this great renown,  
That second Solomon wore Britain's crown.  
His pen restrained the strong, relieved the weak,  
And graciously he could write, do and speak.  
He had more force and vigour in his words,  
Then neigh'bring Princes could have in their swords.  
France, Denmark, Poland, Sweden, Germany,  
Spain, Savoy, Italy, and Muscovie,  
Bohemia, and the fruitful Palatine,  
The Swisseses, Grisons, and the Veltoline,  
As fare as ever Sol, or Luna shined  
Beyond the Western, or the Eastern jude.  
His counsel, and his favours were required,  
Approved, Beloved, Applauded, and Admired:  
When round about, the Nations fare and near,  
With cruel bloody wars infested were;  
When Mars with sword and fire, in furious rage,  
Spoilt and consumed, not sparing Sex or age;  
Whilst mothers (with great grief) were childless made,  
And Son 'gainst Sire opposed with trenchant blade:  
When brother against brother, kin 'gainst kin,  
Through death and danger did destruction win.  
When Murders merciless, and beastly Rapes,  
Theft, Famine (Miseries in sundry shapes)  
While Mischiefs thus great Kingdoms overwhelm,  
Our prudent Steeresman held great Britain's Helm,  
Conducting so this mighty Ship of State,  
That strangers envied, and admired thereat.  
When blessed Peace, with terror and affright  
Was in amazed and distracted flight  
By bloody War, and in continual Chase,  
Coursed like a fearful Hare, from place to place:  
Not daring any where to show her Head,  
She (happily) into this Kingdom fled.  
Whom Royal JAMES did freely entertain,  
And graciously did keep Her all his Reign.  
Whilst other Lands (that for her absence mourn)  
With sighs and tears do wish her back return.  
They find in losing Her, they lost a bliss,  
A hundred Towns in France can witness this,  
Where Wars compulsion, or else composition  
Did force Obedience, Bondage, or Submission.  
Fields lay untild, and fruitful Land lay waste,  
And this was scarcely yet full three years past.  
Where these uncivil civil Wars destroyed  
Princes, Lords, Captains, men of Note employed,  
One hundred sixty seven, in number all,  
And Common people did past number fall.  
These wretches (wearied with these homebred jars)  
Love Peace, for being beaten sore with Wars.  
Nor do I here inveigh against just Arms,  
But 'gainst unjust, unnatural Alarms.  
Just Wars are made, to make unjust Wars cease,  
And in this sort Wars are the means of Peace.  
In all which unmoyles, Brutaine was at rest,  
No thundering Cannons did our Peace molest.  
No chu●●●●● Drum, no Rapes, no slaughtering wounds;  
No Trumpets clangor to the Battle sounds:  
But every Subject here enjoyed his own,  
And did securely Reap what they had Sown.  
Each man beneath his Figtree, and his Vine  
In Peace with plenty did both Sup and Dine.  
O GOD how much thy Goodness doth overflow,  
Thou hast not dealt with other Nations so!  
And all these blessings which from Heaven did spring,  
Were by our Sovereign's wisdoms managing.  
God's Steward, both in Office, and in Name,  
And his account was evermore his aim:  
The thought from out his mind did seldom slip,  
That once he must give up his Stewardshippe.  
His Anger written on weak water was,  
His Patience and his Love were graved in Brass:  
His Fury like a wand'ring Star soon gone,  
His Clemency was like a fixed one.  
So that as many loved him whilst he lived,  
More than so many by his Death are grieved.  
The hand of Heaven was only his support,  
And blest him in the Nobles of his Court,  
To whom his Bounty was expressed so Royal,  
That he these twenty years found none disloyal;  
But as bright jewels of his Diadem,  
They faithfully served him, he honoured them.  
And as in life, they were on him relying,  
So many of them ushered him in dying.  
Richmands and Linox Duke, first led the way,  
N●xt Dorsets' spirit forsook her house of Clay.  
Then Linox Duke again, Duke L●dwicks Brother  
Was third, and good Southampton fourth another.  
Lord Wri●thsly next, Southamptons' Noble Son,  
The race of his mortality did run.  
Next died old Charles, true honoured Nottingham  
(The Brooche and honour of his House and Name)  
Brave Belfast next, his vital thr●ed was spun,  
And last the Noble marquis Hambleton.  
These in the compass of one year went hence,  
And lead the way to their beloved Prince.  
And our deceased Sovereign quickly went,  
To change Earth's Pomp, for glory permanent.  
Like Phoebus in his Course h'aroase and ran  
His Reign in March both ended and began.  
And as if he had been a Star that's fixed  
His Rise and Set were but two days betwixt,  
And once in two and twenty years 'tis proved,  
T●at the most fixed Stars are something moved,  
But in his end, his Constancy we find  
He had no mutable or wavering mind:  
For that Religion which his tongue and pen  
Did still defend with God, maintain with men:  
That Faith which in his Life he did express,  
He in his Death did constantly profess;  
His Treasure and his jewels, they were such,  
As I think England's Kings had ne'er so much.  
And still to men of honour and desert,  
His Coffers were as open as his heart.  
Peace, Patience, justice, Mercy, Piety;  
These were his jewels in variety:  
His Treasure always was his Subject's Love,  
Which they still gave him, as th' effects did prove:  
Which like to Earth's contributory streams,  
Paid homage to their Sovereign Ocean, james:  
He knew, that Prince's Treasure to be best,  
That's laid up in the loyal Subjects breast;  
And only 'twas the Riches of the mind,  
To which he covetously was inclined.  
Thus was he blest in Person, blest in State,  
Blest in his first, and in his Latter date:  
Blest in his education, blest in's learning,  
Blest in his Wisdom, Good and Ill discerning,  
Blessed in his Marriage, and in his royal Race,  
But blessed most of all in God's high Grace.  
He did his God devoutly serve and fear,  
He loved him, and his love he held most dear:  
He honoured and obeyed him faithfully;  
He in his favour lived, and so did dye:  
His duty unto God he knew the way  
And means, to make his Subjects him obey:  
He knew that if he served his God, that then  
He should be served, and feared, and loved of Men:  
And that if he God's Statutes did respect,  
That Men would fear his Statutes to neglect.  
Thus his Obedience upward, did bring down  
Obedience to his Person, and his Crown.  
He did advance the good, suppressed the bad,  
Relieved the poor, and comforted the sad:  
The widow, and the orphan fatherless,  
He often hath supplied in their distress,  
For why, to rich and poor, to great and small,  
He was a common Father unto all.  
His affability and Princely parts,  
Made him a mighty Conqueror of Hearts:  
Offenders whom the law of life deprives,  
His Mercy pardoned, and preserved their lives,  
To prisoners, and poor captives misery,  
He was a Magazine of charity,  
For losses that by sea, or fire did come,  
He hath bestowed many a liberal sum.  
Besides, for Churches, it most plain appears,  
That more hath been repaired in twenty years  
(In honour of our God, and Saviour's name)  
Then in an hundred years before he came.  
Our ancient famous Universities,  
Divine, and Humane learning's Nurseries:  
Such dews of Grace, as the Almighty's will,  
Was pleased (through those Limbecks) to distil.  
Which (spite of Romish rage, or Satan's hate)  
Hath caused the glorious gospel propagate:  
Our (light of learning) JAMES, did still protect them,  
And as a nursing Father did affect them.  
Thus was He, for our souls, and body's health,  
Defender of both Church and Commonwealth.  
For Ireland, he hath much reduced that nation,  
Churches with Land endowed, caused much plantation.  
Whereby Civility is planted there,  
The King's Obedience, and th' Almigties Fear.  
These Deeds this worthy godly Prince hath done,  
For which he hath perpetual praises won.  
Ah! what a gracious Man of God was this?  
Mercy and justice did each other kiss;  
His Affability whilst he did live,  
Did make all Men themselves to him to give.  
Thus lived Great JAMES, and thus Great JAMES did dye,  
And dying thus doth live Eternally.  
With Honour he did live, and Life forsook,  
With Patience like a Lamb his Death he took:  
And leaving Kingly cares, & Princely pain,  
He now inherits an Immortal Reign:  
For royal grieved, perplexed Majesty,  
He hath a Crown of perpetuity:  
For miserable Pomp that's transitory,  
He is advanced to everlasting glory.  
And as he loved, and lived, and died in Peace,  
So he in Peace did quietly decease:  
So let him rest in that most blessed condition,  
That's subject to no change or intermission;  
Whilst we his Servants, of him thus bereft,  
With grieved and perplexed hearts are left;  
But God in mercy looking on our grief,  
Before he gave the wound, ordained relief:  
Though duteous Sorrow bids us not forget  
This cloud of Death, wherein our Sun did set,  
His Sons resplendent Majesty did rise,  
Loadstone, and Lodestar to our hearts and eyes:  
He cheers our drooping spirits, he frees our fears  
And (like the Sun) dries up our dewy Tears.  
All those his servants that lamenting Grieve  
King Charles his Grace and favour doth Relieve:  
But as they served his Father, so he will  
Be their most loving Lord and Sovereign still,  
As they were first to their Master living (being dead)  
They are relieved, and recomforted.  
Thus Charity doth in succession run,  
A Pious Father leaves a Godly Son:  
Which Son his Kingly Government shall pass  
His Kingdom's Father, as his Father was.  
For though Great james interred in earth doth lie  
Great Charles his breast entombs his memory,  
And here's our comforts midst our discontents  
he's seasoned with his Father's Documents.  
And as th' Almighty was his shield and spear,  
Protecting him from danger every where:  
From most unnatural foul Conspiracy,  
From Powder plots, and hellish Treachery,  
Whilst he both lived and died, beloved, Renound,  
And Treason did itself, itself confound,  
So I invoke th' Eternal Providence  
To be to Charles a Buckler and defence,  
Supported only by the Power Divine  
As long as Sun or Moon or Stars shall shine.   

To all that have Read this Poem.  
I Boast not, but his Majesty that's dead  
Was many times well pleased my lines to read:  
And every line word, syllable and letter  
Were (by his reading) graced and made better,  
And howsoever they were good, or ill  
His Bounty shown, he did accept them still;  
He was so good and gracious unto me,  
That I the vilest wretch on earth should be  
If, for his sake I had not writ this verse  
My last poor duty, to his Royal Hearse,  
Two causes made me this sad Poem write,  
The first, my humble duty did invite,  
The last to shun that vice which doth include  
All other vices, foul ingratitude.  
FINIS.