AN elegy OR eulogy ON THE OBITS of the Right Honourable FERDINANDO Lord FAIREFAX▪ who died upon Monday, the 13th of March, Anno Dom. 1647.  
 depiction of standard bearer  portrait of Fairfax  blazon or coat of arms  depiction of tomb  depiction of standard bearer  

A crostic.  

FAR more DivINe, AND clear, is nOw, LORD FAIREFAX gone,  
Above; to praise JEHOVAH, at his royal Throne;  
Remote from Earth: He swift to Heaven ascended (high)  
decked in a wreath of triumph, (Piercing through the sky.)  
Into celestial glory (upon Angels wings)  
Now hallelujahs to the Lord of Hosts he sings.  
Adieu, brave Honour, England with brinish tears may say,  
Night clad in sable black, mourns for the loss of day.  
Death hath be friended Heaven with the father's soul,  
On whose meek Son; let angels miriads of blessings roll.   

Light (shining down from Heaven) the darkest cloud expels,  
On Earth; when Sun with glittering most bright excels:  
Riseth in splendour, ascends with smiles: But sets in dismal turning,  
Death thus hath veiled our light, and left us all in mourning.   

Fairefax; valiant, and true: For England's peace he stood,  
And to his wife, kindred, neighbours, was wise and good,  
just unto all; And merciful; As orbs of Stars.  
relief shined comfort, from his sparkled hands. And bars  
effectual, for truth's defence he did erect:  
False hypocrites unmask, and wickedness detect.  
And now his soul's in glory (though Xenius mount above)  
Xanthius his Son is here; The general of love.    

The etymology of his name from the Hebr●w.  
חקפ ארפ אד ןינ יד דרפ  
Faradh-dhi-nin da Fere-Fakahh.  
The Hebrew of the Lord Fairfax's name, translated into English.  
He hath separated a sufficient son, that wounded the wild ass.   


An elegy.  
Renowned Fairfax, whom the State did love  
Is now ascended to His GOD above,  
He lived and dy'd in Honour, full of years:  
His death sets sluices open, to pour out tears.  
When wicked men began to rise,  
The godly Party to surprise,  
And make them slaves  
To many Knaves,  
To spoil our Goods  
And spill OUR Bloods;  
He parted with his Son most dear  
Who of their holes did them all clear,  
The Father's dead, and gone to rest above,  
The Son hath wrought our peace, if we had Love.  
By God almighty's power, then let us all,  
Give him the Glory, and Love, reciprocal.    By H. Walker, S. S. Theol.  

Printed at London by Robert Ibbitson, dwelling in Smithfield near the Queen's head Tavern, 1648.