¶ AN EPITAPH Upon the decease of the worshipful Lady Mary Ramsey, late wife unto Sir Thomas Ramsey Knight, sometime Lord Maior and Alderman of the Honourable City of London. Whereunto is annexed certain short Epigrams, touching the mortality of man. Published by the consent of the Executors.  
Written by N. B.  
Beati omnes, qui moriuntur in Domino.  

Thrice happy they, and of all other blest,  
Whose days well spent, the Lord calls unto rest.   
LONDON Printed by R. R. dwelling in Fleet-lane. 1602.   

The Author to the Book.  

Go little Book, I leave thee now, unto the Readers view,  
Since there is nought in thee contained, but what is iust & true,  
And though thy volume little be, or substance very small,  
Desire that my goodwill may make contentment to them all.  
Firstwish them read, and afterward give censure as they should,  
For why thy Author would have writ far better if he could:  
What he hath done, is for to please, if so it may content:  
And to that end amongst them all, the little Book hath sent.  
Farewell therefore, speak fair, and say, if ought he have offended,  
He would be glad by warning given, to have the same amended.   
N. B.   

The Books answer.  

WHat as of right I ought to do, performed that shallbe,  
And therefore gentle Readers all, that me shall oversee,  
I do beseech you earnestly, my Master to excuse,  
And pardon his invention rude, his metres and his Muse:  
For I dare undertake for him, that thankful he will rest,  
If of your kindly courtesy he may be full possessed.    

An Epitaphe upon the decease of the Worshipful Lady MARIE RAMSEY.  

COme Gentiles all, lend me your listening ears,  
Attentive, to the sequel of my verse,  
Which mournfullike unto the cause appears,  
That at this time I purpose to rehearse.  
The tenor tends unto her sweet decease,  
Whom while she lived, God blessed with increase.   

Whom while she lived, (see here a Looking Glass)  
Spending her days with credit and with fame:  
Spending her time most godly as it was,  
Unto the praise of her continual name.  
Unto her praise that to the day of doom,  
From age, to age, for evermore shall run.   

Dame Ramsey, she it is that I do mean,  
A Lady rare, most virtuous, meek, and mild:  
Whose harmless life, whose conscience pure and clean,  
Showed forth her fruits both unto man and child.  
Whose liberal hand was never frozen fast,  
From Alines-deeds, so long as breath did last.   

Witnesses be, the bounties of her mind,  
In Christ his Church, and Hospital like case:  
Where her good works registered you may find,  
To all men's sights, that do frequent the place.  
To all men's sights, which there may take the view▪  
Not so much rare as altogether true.   

First for relief of childien very poor,  
Orphins, and such as deeply be distressed:  
She hath ript up the bounty of her store,  
By whose good means those infants they be blest,  
Succorde, and well defended as they ought,  
Thus much for them sweet Ramsey she hath wrough▪   

Sufficiently for Scholars twelve like case,  
In Oxford six, in Cambridgesix likewise:  
She hath set down to every one their place,  
As they proceed in study to arise.  
Not for a month, a year, but still for ay,  
For to endure until the latter day.   

Maintenance great for Preachers next to this,  
God's holy word to 'stablish and increase:  
She ordered hath, as right well known it is,  
Until the world and age of man shall cease:  
That truth thereby might England overspread,  
And at no time in blindness to be led.   

Fiftly, her care and providence hath been,  
A Writing School erected for to see:  
And there unto hath plenteous largesse given,  
That Scholars might therein well nurtured be▪  
And for to learn God's word and perfect ground,  
That they in time true subjects may be found.   

People distressed and Soldiers wounded sore,  
To them she hath applied her watchful eye:  
That they might be well healed for evermore,  
And not for want of succour for to die:  
A gracious deed, a deed deserving fame,  
A deed that wins deep credit for the same.   

For maintenance of poor other Soldiers ten,  
Likewise she hath her contribution made▪  
And only for a comfort unto them,  
Unable for to live by any trade:  
Pity in her had ta'en such settled root,  
That no good deed was left trodunderfoote.   

And this beside see for ten widows poor,  
How she hath made provision in like case:  
Allowing them henceforth for evermore.  
Meat drink and cloth with the abiding place,  
So that no want might nip them in the cold,  
Nor winter's force on them take any hold.   

Poor maiden's rights and marriages to mend,  
Her liberal hand hath been supporting still▪  
In bounteous sort their dowries to extend,  
A sign of her unfeigned great goodwill.  
Wishing to them and others all before,  
Partly alike the sweetness of her store.   

To Bristol eke one thousand pounds she gave,  
Unto the poor there dwelling in that place:  
For maintenance and clothing they should have,  
A loving gift to heal their woeful case;  
To help their deep and poverished distress,  
Which help and gift makes not her praise the less.   

To Th'hospital of Christ's Church thus much more,  
Two thousand pounds in ready coin she gave:  
To prisoners eke distressed, feeble, and poor,  
Five hundred pounds she wild that they should have;  
To companies of London eke beside,  
One thousand pounds to them she hath relied.   

To parishes in Essex county there,  
One hundred pounds she rendered for their need▪  
Wherein her love and bounty did appear,  
To satisfy and to content their need.  
Because that they each one in their degree,  
Should not amiss but well considered be.   

Unto her kin as she thought good therefore,  
Two hundred pounds to some she seemed to yield▪  
To other some one hundred and no more,  
To others eke fifty as she them wild:  
To others less according to that rate,  
As she thought good to measure their estate.   

What else of goods, of movables, or lands,  
That unbequeathed remainderlike remain:  
Unto the poor by her excecutors hands,  
She wished and wild should be bestowed again:  
Let all therefore that hear what she hath done,  
Think few or none such like there are to come.   

Other good deeds a number to recite,  
Which tedious were, I pretermit therefore:  
Whereby she hath lent to the world a light,  
To look into the blessing of their store:  
And to do good before their latter days.  
Which works with hers shall bring them endless praise   

But now note here, how that her life was spent,  
First voted to serve God both day and hour:  
Holding herself most happily content,  
With all good gifts proceeding from his power:  
And at the last extinct of vital breath,  
With patient mind to conquer fearful death.   

Wherefore no doubt her portion is enlarged,  
Her talon well redoubled over again.  
Her duty done, her conscience well discharged,  
Her death a life which ever shall remain:  
Her mortal state immortal to be seen,  
Her Glorious joys most flourishing fresh and green.   

Ossa jacent tumulo, mentis monumenta supersunt,  
Optima pars superest: Noniacet haec tumulo.  
Vita per acta pie, mortem est sortita beatam,  
Exijt ad certum men s reditura diem.  
O foelix nimium quae sic sua saecla peregit,  
Ter foelix cui dij dant ita posse mori.    

A sufficient defence and reasonable excuse concerning the mischance that happened at Leaden Hall after the funeral of the worshipful Lady Mary Ramsey so solemnized.  

WHo can withstand mishaps, that daily seem to fall?  
Or be against that God doth send? Not any man at all.  
Things inexpected chance, and chances they have change:  
And sudden misevents do grow, like wonders very strange.  
But whatsoever haps, Thereto I do reply:  
It falleth out but for our sins, A scourge from God on high.  
Then let us not impute, or construe things amiss:  
But think (I say) and deem no more, but justly as it is.  
The goodwill of the dead, that gave this bounteous dole.  
Bequeathed it unto the help of many a Christians Soul,  
Bequeathed it for good, of widows in distress,  
The halt, the blind, the sickly man, the poor and fatherless.  
The executors eke, performed but the will:  
Of that sweet Lady dead and gone, and for no further ill,  
And as for those that were, in that case put in trust,  
To deal the dole it was their mind, to deal it well and just:  
If then ●●srulie folk, would not well governed be,  
The fault was theirs and no man's else, that could not this foresee,  
Let us not censure then, to talk that is not true:  
But judge and say in every point, as I have said to you,  
And let the fault rest there, by whom the fault befell,  
And judging so you judge but right, and censure very well:  
For they that headlong run, and will not be forewarned,  
Their headless care was that default, which made them to beharmd,  
Examples there have been, like unto this before,  
〈◊〉 let mischance excuse mishap: what can be spoken more.    

In obitum Dominae Mariae Ramsei Ni▪ Boormanni Longaewm et ultimum vale.  

Sweet Ramsey, now  
my last farewell I take,  
Though simple be my verse:  
or mournful rhyme,  
For what I writ before,  
was for thy sake.  
So farforth as I respite had by time,  
And more than that, the mind I bore to thee,  
Was that thou shouldst not clean forgotten be.   

But had I writ or spoke few words or none,  
Deserved deeds would have obtained their hire:  
And therefore though thy earthly corpse be gone,  
I trust thy soul doth to the heavens aspire,  
Where resting thou shalt evermore remain,  
Amongst God's flock in Glory for to reign.   

Where earthly change shall reap eternal bliss,  
Where downfall of thy mortal state or stay:  
Shall joy enjoy that never vading is,  
Where thou shalt live for ever and for aye.  
Unto which place although thy days be done,  
I pray that all thy good friends they may come.   

And thus in brief I give thee leave to sleep,  
While I take leave for writing as before:  
Yet for thy sake reserved thoughts I'll keep,  
Within my heart to rest for evermote.  
That when by chance I hear some speak of thee,  
Though I speak lest thou mayst remembered be.   

Nascimur è terra, adterr amque revertimur omnes,  
Terra sumus, nobis maxima terra parens,  
Terra tegit quam terra tulit, suamembr a reposcit,  
Quae dederat tellus, non aliena petit.  
Chara vale, lux clara vale, tuasunera flevi,  
Prae lachrymis nequeo scribere plura, vale.    

Short Epigrams touching the mortality of man.  

EArth of the earth, must to the earth,  
from whence at first it came,  
Such is the earthly natural state,  
of every earthly man.   

Another.  
adam's earthly fall incurred,  
displeasure to damnation:  
But Christ his death subdued sin,  
to bring us to salvation.  
Dye then from Adam for to live,  
with God thy only maker;  
So shalt thou in the book of life,  
with him be full partaker.   

Another.  
Man's earthly state is but a pomp,  
which speedy time devours  
Compared to a winter's blast,  
which nips the fairest flowers.   

Another.  
NOthing at all can be so swift,  
as swiftness of the time,  
To day alive, to morrow dead,  
and covered in thy shrine.  
Think then on earthly time that fleets,  
which no man once can stay▪  
For I, and thou, thou, I, and he,  
have every man his day.   

Another.  
Tides have their spaciat time, to ebb,  
to rise, and for to flow,  
Yet never a swelling flood so high,  
but hath his fall as low.  
Young springs resemble youthfulness,  
the flourishing time of man:  
Which with the ebb shall have his fall,  
let him do what he can.   

Another.  
THe sturdiest Oak of any Oak,  
hath but his time to grow,  
And yet at last in tract of time,  
receives his overthrow.  
So, be a man, strong, tall, or stout,  
his hold is most unsure:  
And cannot longer than his time,  
By tract of time endure.   

Another.  
THe clocks do strike the hours tun on,  
the Sun eclipsed stands:  
Yet all, let us be sure of this,  
rests in our makers han des.  
Conclude we then, our certainty,  
is brickell and unsure▪  
And by itself hath neither space,  
nor warrant to endure.  
And say we thus, to day a man,  
and not a man to morrow,  
For longer life than God doth lend,  
neither King nor Lord can borrow.    

The lenvoy.  

THe highest tree is seldom times most sure,  
The swelling floods yield ebbs that drench full low,  
Nothing so firm that always can endure,  
The tides through time wear out their times we know,  
The Sun eclipsed the Moon bearest of light,  
The day surprised, the night abandoned quite.   

Hours, days, and years, run out their course at last,  
The candle bright hath his extinct in time▪  
None can recall, swift time when time is past,  
What boots it then for worldly pomp to climb.  
The watch forwarnes when as the clock will strike,  
The cock and clock are watches both alike.   

The fairest day assures his glowning hour,  
The Sunshine bright is covered oft with shade  
Man's harvest is compared to a flower,  
That unawares dothperish, waste, and vade,  
And whose pride past bears but a withered hue,  
And bends and bids the Gardener then adieu.   

Our life a lamp, that for a time burns bright,  
Our life a span when it is at the best:  
Our life assured of neither day nor night,  
our life a smoke and unassured rest.  
Our life, our state, our stay, and vitallbreath,  
Subject unto the sudden call of death.   

The youngest lamb goes with the eldest sheep,  
Which unawares, the slaughterer takes from foalde:  
Neither young, nor old, their days of reckoning keep,  
How long to feed, or how soon to be sold.  
Their haps do chance as do the gamesters play,  
And so is ours that once must have a day.   

Who therefore reads this preamble set down,  
Let him bethink what as the meaning is:  
And make suppose that if the fates do frown,  
Man is recalde soon from his earthly bliss.  
For health, and wealth, his glory and his ease,  
Are at command when as the Lord doth please.   
FINIS.