A funeral elegy upon the deplorable and much lamented Death of the Right Honourable Robert Devervex, late Earl of Essex and Ewe, Vicunt of Hereford, Lord Ferrer of Chartley, Bourchier and Loviane, late Lord general of the Parliaments Forces, whose Hearse was solemnly solemnised on Thursday the two and twenty day of October, 1646. Being conveyed from Essex-House to westminster-abbey, where his Body was interred.  
 funeral cortege  

THe Eastern Essex bright resplendent Sun  
Now in the West is set his course is run;  
Although grim Death hath ta'en his Life away,  
His Honour and his Fame shall live for aye,  
For Death he hath outdared, as all men knows,  
Both on the Sea, and Laud, to meet his Foes:  
His Auncitors were all brave Men of war,  
Whose valiant acts were known both near and far,  
His House proclaimed by the trump of Fame,  
There's few but weep to hear of Essex name;  
The many Victories that he hath won,  
Doth show, that he was valiant Mars his Son;  
He in the head of all his troops did lead,  
Nor thundering Cannon Bullets ne'er did dread,  
His way he cut through his fierce Enemy,  
Who at his presence did so often fly,  
He bore the brunt at first in thi● fierce war,  
And in the West shone like a Blasing-star;  
Though he was Va●ient, yet he blood did hate,  
And still was trusty to the weal and State,  
So wise, so provident, so bounteous, so free,  
That proved what every hopeful soul should be,  
Unto the meanest soldier of his Band  
He still was courteous, though he did command,  
To save his Men he always had a care,  
And in all miseries with them take share,  
In his proceedings he was resolute,  
Encouraging his valiant Horse and foot,  
Which so inflaimed their hearts with hot desire,  
That they would raither die then to retire;  
Truly Religious he was always found,  
Mild, temperate, and of a judgement sound,  
He was (woe worth the loss) ambitious more,  
To climb with virtue then aspire with store:  
A complete general was Essex still,  
Which made his soldiers to obey his will;  
His stout Commanders all for him do mourn,  
With drooping hearts they bring him to his urn,  
Rivers of rears run flowing from their eyes,  
When they did celebrate his Obsequies;  
In fable weeds a mournful march they tread,  
And (sighing) say, brave Essex he is dead:  
But stay, weep not, for he's alive again,  
And with Christ Jesus doth triumph and reign;  
Tears are the outward signs of inward sorrows,  
Mankind to Nature renders what it borrows:  
Ah brittle Nature, doth thy toil depend  
On frailty, as where you begun to end?  
Lilies and Roses do decay and perish,  
Whilst bitter wormwood and sharp Nettles flourish;  
he's dead (oh bitter word) of soldiers prime.  
That in his life proved Honour to the time:  
This sinful Globe (Of mere mortality)  
He now hath left, and did transcend the sky,  
Passing the orbs of all the Planets seven,  
And Fixed-Starres, whose soul is fixed in Heaven,  
In that celestial Paradise of joy,  
Whereas the Spirit never feels annoy,  
There's always cheerful Day and never Night,  
A●waies beholding of God's glory bright,  
All joy, no Sorrow, and Mirth without measure,  
No sickness, Sorrow, but all Heavenly pleasure,  
No Death, no Weeping, nor no misery,  
M●kenes and Concord, with sweet harmony,  
Here God doth reign with Heavenly angels bright,  
Which to behold is a most glorious slight:  
Essex his soul's in Heaven, cease to weep,  
Although his Body in the Grave doth sleep;  
We m●urne on Earth, he joyeth with his Maker,  
(A soul in bliss is of no grief Parraker;)  
For he is gone in better parts to dwell,  
He bid the World good morrow, and farewell.   
Finis.   

LONDON, Printed by John Hammond, 1646.