❧ An Epitaph upon the death of Richard Price Esquire (the second son of Sir john Price Knight, deceased) which Richard left this life the fifth day of januarie, 1586.  

MY sorrow doth suppress my memory,  
My grief eke grieves my heart, and all my powers,  
My tears do pierce my paper thoroughly,  
My Muse me fails, my woe my wit devours,  
So as amazed I sit devoid of might,  
In verse, or prose, my meaning to indight.   

Of princely jewels, precious are the price,  
Of gold the gain who wisheth not to have,  
Of house and land, and all by land that rise,  
Of all for life, who seeketh not to save:  
But when I weigh the depth of mine intent,  
A Price to praise, I cannot but lament.   

A Price for gentle blood, of price he was,  
A Price well taught in youth to live in age,  
A Price so fraught with virtues that surpass,  
A Price though young in years, in wisdom sage:  
A precious Price, as Wales did ever yield,  
A Price of peace in town, yet fierce in field.   

His virtues rare, his wisdom so profound.  
His learned skill, his courtesy so seen,  
His bounty great in house did so abound,  
His travel such for Country, and for Queen,  
Made him beloved, and for his friendship fast,  
So famously, as evermore shall last.   

He lived no doubt with well contented mind,  
He lived upright, just both in word and deed,  
He lived a subject true, as man may find,  
He lived to God a child of Abraham's seed:  
He lived to die, content to leave each friend,  
He died to live in joy, that shall not end.   

His woeful wife may chief wail his want,  
His servants next have greatest cause to grieve,  
His country then (sith such as he be scant)  
His friends each one may sorrow whilst they live:  
Among the which a greater loss had none,  
Then I myself, that causeless do not moon.   

Oh God grant us thy grace, and daily aid,  
Oh God put fear and love into our heart,  
Oh God to sin make us full sore afraid,  
Oh God thy love from us do not divart:  
Thou that from us our peerless Price hast reft,  
Be our defence, that here behind are left.   
R. D.   


ET SI MORS, INDIES ACCELERAT  
POST FUNERA VIRTUS VIVET TAMEN   
❧ Imprinted at London by john Charlewood.