Songs of Mourning: BEWAILING the untimely death of Prince Henry.  
Worded by THO. CAMPION.  
And set forth to be sung with one voice to the Lute, or Viol: By JOHN COPRARIO.  
LONDON: Printed for john Browne, and are to be sold in S. dunstons Churchyard, 1613.    

ILLUSTRISSIMO, POTENTISSIMOQVE PRINCIPI, FREDRICO QVINTO, RHENI COMITI PALATINO, DUCI BAVARIAE, etc.  
COgimur; invitis (Clarissime) parce quaerelis  
Te saluo; laetis non sinit esse Deus:  
Nec speratus Hymen procedit lumine claro,  
Principis extincti nubila fata vetant.  
Illius inferias maesto iam Musica cantu  
Prosequitur, miseros haec Dea sola juuat.  
Illa suos tibi summittit (Dux inclite) quaestus,  
Fraternus fleto quem sociavit amor.  
Sed nova gaudia, sed tam dulcia foedera rupit  
Fati infoelicis livor, & hora nocens.  
Quod superest, nimios nobis omni arte dolores  
Est mollire animus, spes meliora dabit:  
Cunctatosque olim cantabimus ipsi Hymenaeos,  
Laeta simul fas sit reddere vota Deo.   

AN ELEGY upon the untimely death of Prince Henry.  
Read you that have some tears left yet unspent,  
Now weep yourselves heart sick, and near repent:  
For I will open to your free access  
The sanctuary of all heaviness:  
Where men their fill may mourn, and never sin:  
And I their humble Priest thus first begin.  
Fly from the Skies ye blessed beams of light,  
Rise up in horrid vapours ugly night,  
And fettered bring that ravenous monster Fate  
The felon, and the traitor to our state  
Law-Eloquence we need not to convince  
His guilt, all know it, 'tis he stole our Prince,  
The Prince of men, the Prince of all that bore  
Ever that princely name: O now no more  
Shall his perfections like the Sunbeams dare  
The purblind world, in heaven those glories are.  
What could the greatest artist, Nature, add  
T' increase his graces? divine form he had  
Striving in all his parts which should surpass;  
And like a well tuned chime his carriage was  
Full of celestial witchcraft, winning all  
To admiration, and love personal.  
His Lance appeared to the beholders eyes  
When his fair hand advanced it in the skies  
Larger than truth, for well could he it wield,  
And make it promise honour in the field.  
When Court and Music called him, off fell arms,  
And as he had been shaped for loves alarms,  
In harmony he spoke, and trod the ground  
In more proportion than the measured sound.  
How fit for peace was he, and rosy beds?  
How fit to stand in troops of iron heads?  
When time had with his circles made complete,  
His charmed rounds? All things in time grow great.  
This fear even like a comet that hangs high,  
And shoots his threatening flashes through the sky,  
Held all the eyes of Christendom intent  
Upon his youthful hopes, casting th' event  
Of what was in his power, not in his will:  
For that was close concealed, and must lie still  
As deeply hid, as that design which late  
With the French Lion died. O earthly state  
How doth thy greatness in a moment fall?  
And feasts in highest pomp turn funeral?  
But our young Henry armed with all the arts  
That suit with Empire, and the gain of hearts,  
Bearing before him fortune, power, and love  
Appeared first in perfection, fit to move  
Fixed admiration: though his years were green  
Their fruit was yet mature: his care had been  
Surveying India, and implanting there  
The knowledge of that God which he did fear:  
And e'en now, though he breathless lies, his sails  
Are struggling with the winds, for our avails  
T' explore a passage hid from human tract,  
Will fame him in the enterprise, or fact.  
O Spirit full of hope why art thou fled  
From deeds of honour? why's that virtue dead  
Which dwelled so well in thee? a bower more sweet  
If Paradise were found, it could not meet.  
Cursed then be Fate that stole our blessing so,  
And had for us now nothing left but woe,  
Had not th' All-seeing providence yet kept  
Another joy safe, that in silence slept:  
And that same Royal workman who could frame  
A Prince so worthy of immortal fame;  
Lives, and long may he live, to form the other  
His expressed image, and grace of his brother.  
To whose eternal peace we offer now  
Gifts which he loved, and fed, Musics that flow  
Out of a sour, and melancholic vain,  
Which best sort with the sorrows we sustain.   

TO THE MOST SACRED King James.  
O Grief, O Grief, how divers are thy shapes wherein men lan- guish? The face sometime with tears thou fill'st, Sometime the heart thou killest with unseen anguish, Somewhile thou smil'st to view how fate, plays with our human state. So far from surety here are all our earthly joys, That what our strong hope builds when least we fear, a stronger power destroys.  

1  
O Grief, how divers are thy shapes wherein men languish?  
The face sometime with tears thou fil'st,  
Sometime the heart thou killest  
With unseen anguish.  
Sometime thou smil'st to view how Fate  
Plays with our human state:  
So far from surety here  
Are all our earthly joys,  
That what our strong hope builds, when least we fear,  
A stronger power destroys.   

2  
O Fate, why shouldst thou take from KINGS their joy, and treasure?  
Their Image if men should deface  
'Twere death, which thou dost race  
Even at thy pleasure.  
Wisdom of holy Kings yet knows  
Both what it hath, and owes.  
heavens hostage which you bred  
And nursed with such choice care.  
Is ravished now great KING, and from us led  
When we were least aware.   

The Base.  
   

2 TO THE MOST SACRED Queen Anne.  
'tIs now dead night, and not a light on earth, orstarre in heaven doth shine, Let now a mother mourn the noblest birth that ever was both mortal, and divine.  
O sweetness peerless! more then human grace! O flowery beauty! O untimely death! Now Music fill this place with thy most doleful breath. O singing wail a fate more truly funeral, Then when with all his sons the sire of Troy did fall.  

1  
'tis now dead night, and not a light on earth,  
Or star in heaven doth shine:  
Let now a mother mourn the noblest birth  
That ever was both mortal, and divine.  
O sweetness peerless! more then human grace!  
O flowery beauty! O untimely death!  
Now Music fill this place  
With thy most doleful breath:  
O singing wail a fate more truly funeral,  
Then when with all his sons the sire of Troy did fall.   

2  
Sleep joy, die Mirth, and not a smile be seen,  
Or show of heart's content,  
For never sorrow nearer touched a QUEEN,  
Nor were there ever tears more duly spent:  
O dear remembrance, full of rueful woe!  
O ceacelesse passion! O unhuman hour!  
No pleasure now can grow,  
For withered is her flower.  
O anguish do thy worst and fury Tragical,  
Since fate in taking one hath thus disordered all.   

The Base.  
   

3 TO THE MOST HIGH AND MIGHTY Prince Charles.  
FOrtune and glory may be lost and won, But when the work of nature is undone, that loss flies past retur-ning, No help is left but mourning: What can to kind youth more despiteful prove then to be robbed of one sole bro- there? Father and mother ask reave- rinse, a brother only love, Like age and birth like thoughts and pleasures move. What gain can he heap up though showers of Crowns descend, Who for that good must change a brother and a friend?  

1  
Fortune and Glory may be lost, and won,  
But when the work of Nature is undone  
That loss flies past returning,  
No help is left but mourning.  
What can to kind youth more despiteful prove  
Then to be robbed of one sole Brother?  
Father and Mother  
Ask reverence, a Brother only love:  
Like age, and birth, like thoughts, and pleasures move:  
What gain can he heap up though showers of Crowns descend  
Who for that good must change a brother and a friend?   

2  
Follow, O follow yet thy Brother's fame,  
But not his fate, le's only change the name,  
And find his worth presented  
In thee, by him prevented:  
Or past example of the dead be great,  
Out of thyself begin thy story:  
Virtue, and glory  
Are eminent being placed in princely seat:  
Oh heaven his age prolong with sacred heat,  
And on his honoured head let all the blessings light  
Which to his brother's life men wished, and wished them right.   

The Base.  
   

4 TO THE MOST PRINCELY AND VIRTUOUS the Lady Elizabeth.  
SO parted you, So parted you as if the world for e- ver had lost with him her light, Now could your tears hard flint to ruth ex- cite, yet may you never your loves again partake in human sight. O why should love such two kind hearts does- sever, As nature never knit more fair or firm toge-ther?  

1  
So parted you as if the world for ever  
Had lost with him her light  
Now could your tears hard flint to ruth excite,  
Yet may you never  
Your loves again partake in human sight:  
O why should love such two kind hearts dissever  
As nature never knit more fair or firm together?   

2  
So loved you as sister should a brother  
Not in a common strain,  
For Princely blood doth vulgar fire disdain:  
But you each other  
On earth embarced in a celestial chain  
A lass for love that heavenly borne affection  
To change should subject be and suffer earth's infection.   

The Base.  
   

5 TO THE MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND MIGHTY Frederick the fifth, Count Palatine of the Rhein.  
HOw like a golden dream you met and par-ted, That pleasing strait doth vanish, O who can ever ba- nish the thought of one so princely and free-har-ted?  
But he was pulled up in his prime by fate, And love for him must mourn though all too late. Tears to the dead are due, let none forbid sad hearts to sigh, True grief, true grief, true grief cannot be hid.  

1  
How like a golden dream you met and parted  
That pleasing strait doth vanish:  
O who can ever banish  
The thought of one so princely and free hearted?  
But he was pulled up in his prime by fate,  
And love for him must mourn though all too late.  
Tears to the dead are due, let none forbid  
Sad hearts to sigh, true grief cannot be hid.   

2  
Yet the most bitter storm to height increased  
By heaven again is ceased:  
O time that all things movest  
In grief and joy thou equal measure lovest:  
Such the condition is of human life,  
Care must with pleasure mix and peace with strife:  
Thoughts with the days must change, as tapers waste  
So must our griefs, day breaks when night is past.   

The Base.  
   

6 To the most disconsolate Great Britain.  
WHen pale famine fed on thee with her insatiate i●●es, When civil broils set murder free contemning all thy laws, When heaven enraged consumed thee so with plagues that none thy face could know, Yet in thy looks affliction then show'd less, Then now for ones fate all thy parts ex- press.  

1  
When pale famine fed on thee,  
With her unsatiate jaws,  
When civil broils set murder free  
Contemning all thy laws,  
When heaven enraged consumed thee so  
With plagues that none thy face could know,  
Yet in thy looks affliction then show'd less  
Thou now for ones fall all thy parts express.   

2  
Now thy highest States lament  
A son, and Brother's loss;  
Thy nobles mourn in discontent,  
And rue this fatal cross;  
Thy Commons are with passion sad  
To think how brave a Prince they had:  
If all thy rocks from white to black should turn  
Yet couldst thou not in show more amply mourn.   

The Base.  
   

7 To the World.  
O Poor distracted World, partly a slave to Pagans sinful rage, partly ob- scured with igno- rance of all the means that save, And e'en these parts of thee that live assured of heavenly grace: O how they are de- vided? with doubts late by a Kingly pen deci- ded.  
O happy world if what the sire be- gun had been closed up by his religious son.  

1  
O poor distracted world, partly a slave  
To Pagans sinful rage, partly obscured  
With ignorance of all the means that save,  
And e'en those parts of thee that live assured  
Of heavenly grace: Oh how they are divided  
With doubts late by a Kingly pen decided?  
O happy world, if what the Sire begun  
Had been closed up by his religious Son.   

2  
Mourn all you souls oppressed under the yoke  
Of Christian-hating Thrace; never appeared  
More likelihood to have that black league broke,  
For such a heavenly prince might well be fear●●  
Of earthly fiends: Oh how is Zeal inflamed  
With power, when truth wanting defence is shamed?  
O princely soul rest thou in peace, while we  
In thine expect the hopes were ripe in thee.   

The Base.  
   

A Table of all the Songs contained in this Book.  

O Grief. 1  
'tis now dead night. 2  
Fortune and glory. 3  
So parted you. 4  
How like a golden dream. 5  
When pale famine. 6  
O poor distracted world. 7   
FINIS.