A funeral Elegy upon the most honoured upon Earth, and now glorious in Heaven, His Excellency Robert Devereux Earl of Essex and Ewe, Viscount Hereford, Lord Ferrer of Chartly Bourchier and Louvain, late general of England.  
 portrait 
Robert Earl of Essex his excellence Lord general of the Parlimts: Army etc: Lately deceased  
 winged skull   

IS valiant Essex dead? 'tis sure a story!  
Since none do die who gain eternal glory.  
No, he is only vanished from our sight,  
And made a star; to give these Isles more light  
To see the way to peace, and to direct  
Their erring judgements from each idle Sect,  
Which trouble both Religion, and the State▪  
And are indeed the limans of that gate  
At which our miseries and mischiefs enter,  
The very spring of all our woes and centre.  
But whither run I? oh! see! observe the spheres,  
How they bewail our Essex loss in tears:  
For with this light and airy shadow we  
Of fame and honour must contented be;  
Since from the vain grasp of our Wishes fled  
Their glorious substance is, now, he is dead;  
And speaks again louder, and louder yet;  
Else while we hear the sound, we should forget  
What is delivered; let hoarse rumours cry  
Till it so many echoes multiply,  
To waken our deaf sense, and make our ears  
As open and dilated as our fears,  
That we might feel the blow and feeling grieve  
At which fain we would not, but must believe,  
And in this horrid faith behold the world  
From her proud height of expectation hurled;  
Stooping with him, as if she strove to have  
No lower centre now, than Essex grave.  
Oh! could not all thy purchased victories  
Like to thy fame, thy flesh immortalize!  
Could not all these protect thee, or prevail  
To fright that coward Death, who oft grew pale  
To look thee and thy battles in the face?  
Alas they could not! destiny gives place  
To none: nor is it seen that Prince's Lives  
Can saved be by their Prerogatives.  
Yet since it is decreed thy life's bright sun  
Must be eclipsed; thy race it being run:  
Be proud, thou dyeest in thy black obsequies  
With greater glory set, than others rise.  
For in thy death and life thou heldest one  
Most just and regular proportion.  
Look how a circle drawn by compass meet  
Invisibly is joined head to feet:  
So doth thy fate and honour now contend  
To match thy brave beginning with thy end.  
And for thy name, it stands in crimson ground▪  
Edgehill and Newbrey-marsh thy fame to sound.  
For in those fields thou didst triumphantly  
Conquer the enemy, gotest the victory.  
Therefore thou wilt have for thy passing bells  
The drums and canons thunder forth thy kneels.  
Then famous London shut your shops a space,  
And mourn for him who was your Islands grace.  
I should proceed, but sorrow wets my eyes;  
And while some Muses write, mine only cries.   

Written by him who doth with much grief here  
Speak of brave Essex, England's phoenix peer.   
Josiah Ricraft of London Merchant.  
FINIS   

LONDON Printed in the year one thousand six hundred forty and six In which, September's fourteenth day deceased brave ESSEX. Are to be sold by JOHN HANCOCK, in Pope's head Ally near the royal Exchange.