✚ An epitaph declaring the life and end of D. Edmund Boner etc.  

LO now the linger hope is past, that late the Papists had:  
Their bragging breasts which boiled in hate, their hearts with care have clad.   

They looked long for wished time, of Antichristes' return:  
When they in wont wise might spoil, and heaps of Martyrs burn.   

But see the providence of God, their malice to assuage:  
He hath bereft these Papists proud, the pillar of their rage.   

Their whip, their sword, their fire brand, of wrath their chiefest stay:  
The spoiler of the Christian flock, of whom he made a pray.   

For bloody burning Boner now, hath made exchange of life:  
That whilesome was the murderer, of infant, man, and wife.   

Yet sometime be a favourer, and did profess the troth:  
defying Pope and Popishnes, five times with solemn oath:   

And letted not for to accuse, and note of heinous crime:  
Such as were slack to do the like, during Lord Cromwel's tyme.   

A learned Epistle eke he wrat, in praise and in defence:  
Of Bishop Gardiner's work the book, of true obedience.   

Wherein he doth accuse the Pope, his Church and Romish rabble:  
Of heinous crimes right horrible, and deeds detestable.   

As tyranny, usurping state, reproachful unto God:  
Of England eke a very spoil, to Christ his flock a rod.   

He names the Pope a greedy wolf, he joys in his decay:  
Hoping the truth long trodden down, at length should bear the sway.   

He praiseth much the noble Prince, and calls K. Henry virtuous:  
That in suppressing Popish power, he is so studious.   

Whereby most plainly may appear, how Boner had a taste:  
Of Christ and of his Gospel pure, though he them scorned at last.   

In Denmark eke Ambassador, he published with speed:  
The book and Epistle named before, as worthy works in deed.   

Then sent Ambassador to France, from Henry puissant King:  
He furthered with free consent, the English Bibles Printing.   

And caused divers of the same, it seemed of godly zeal:  
For to be placed within Paul's Church, Christ's truth for to reveal.   

He caused five hundred Testaments, be Printed, this I know:  
And those as precious jewels did, upon his friends bestow.   

But as a wavering weather cock, Lord Cromwell being dead:  
Forsaking Christ and all his laws, to papistry he fled.   

And of a Paul became a Saul, a Herode thirsting blood:  
As on young Mekins well was seen, his cruel killing mood.   

For when one quest had cleared the boy, and judged him guiltless quite:  
He caused another Quest be called, and him condemned by might.   

Thus drove he forth king Henry's days, but when his noble son:  
In father's place to regal throne, by due descent was come.   

Then called to count for his offence, as justice thought it fit:  
In humble wise before the Lords, himself he did submit.   

But afterward most stubbornly, with great contempt and scorn:  
He did deny his former fact, as one, ere than forsworn,   

For which offence in prison cast, where he with wealth was fed:  
Without regard of God or prince, a perversed life he led.   

But when in brother's sacred seat, God would Queen Mary place:  
This wilful man from prison called, by her especial grace,   

Abusing much the lenity, and mercy of the Queen:  
Such bloody broils began to brew, as erst was never seen.   

And like a roaring Lion he, of Pluto's poisoned band:  
Made havoc of the saints of God, his Christ he did withstand.   

He trod his gospel under foot, as much as in him lay:  
With turmoil great, and torments huge, the Church he did affray.   

And pity none would he allow, no mercy might him move:  
His broiling breast inflamed so, with popish father's love.   

With coals and candle light also, of some the bands he brent:  
Of some the hair, from of their face, with cruel claws he rend.   

Some men he beat upon the face, but some, most like a beast:  
He scourged with whips & rods (O wretch) that deed, all men detest.   

And breathing forth his tyranny, consumed with fire and flame:  
The old, the young, the rich, the poor, the halt, the blind, and lame.   

●hat should I say, my heart it rues, the people's tears record:  
The wailed woes for saints so slain, which is to be abhorred.   

But all this might not move his mind, for wit gave place to will:  
Both grace and reason fled him fro, his heart was hardened still.   

But when God of his providence, our famous Queen did send:  
To stay the rage of tyranny, and wasteful wreaks to end.   

The mercy of Elizabeth, though it doth far exceed:  
Can not reclaim his cureless heart, which errors still did feed.   

But that he used unreverently, with scoffs in mocking wise:  
Her graces high Commissioners, both worthy, grave, and wise.   

So when the people prayed for him, reproachful words he gave:  
Most vile, not christian-like, as one that had a soul to save.   

The second time to prison brought, where he his life did leave:  
Where learned men persuaded him, unto the truth to cleave,   

And fly the fancies of the fond, wherewith he was abused:  
Unwilling still to hear them speak, good Council he refused.   

So that until his dying hour, he showed no perfect sign:  
Of a repentant heart or mind, that would from sin decline.   

But as he lived a loathed life, unconstant, vile, and vain:  
Forsaking faith and nature's kind, which God hath in disdain.   

His glory aye the people's grief, the poor man's pain his pride:  
(A woeful flock where such a wolf, appointed was for guide)   

Even so his end was doleful to, wherein did well appear:  
On him the judgement just of God, right wonderful to hear.   

For dead his face as black as coal, and monstrous withal:  
His grisly look so terrible, as might a man appall.   

Was to the good a very glass, wherein they all may learn:  
To shun, the way that Boner went, and better path deserve.   

Yet though in life he would not grant, Christ's mercy for to crave:  
He willed his wretched Corpse with pomp, brought should be to the grave.   

Unto the Church whereas sometime, a Prelate placed was he:  
Even there his solemn obsiquys, and funerals to be.   

But sith it was so far unmeet, a place for him more fit:  
Within the Churchyard of S. George, he hath a homely pit.   

And sith he loved not the light, but did the same despise:  
At midnight was he buried there, from view of people's eyes.   

Wherefore ye Papists all beware, forsake this Romish whore:  
And fear the judgements of the Lord, which will you else devour.   

Recant ye all your heresies, and leave your perverse way:  
Wherein you walked so stubbornly, so long and many a day.   

Love God, obey your sovereign, and pray for her estate:  
Renounce ye all your Maummetry, lest ye repent to late.   
T. Bro. the younger.  
¶ Finis.   

¶ Imprinted at London, by john day, dwelling over Aldersgate.  
¶ Cum gratia & Privilegio Regiae Maiestatis.