THE MUSES DIRGE, CONSECRATED TO the Remembrance of the High and mighty Monarch, james, by the Grace of God, late King of Great britain, France, and Ireland; Who deceased at Theobalds, vpon Sunday, being the seven and twentieth of March, 1●●5.  
Written by Richard James, Master of Arts, and Preacher of Gods Word at Stoke-Newington, in the county of Middlesex, near LONDON.  
LONDON, Printed by A.M. and I.N. for John brown, and are to bee sold at his Shop in Pauls Churchyard, at the sign of the Crane. 1●25.   

TO THE RIGHT honourable EDWARD Lord CONWAY baron of RAGGLEY, and one of his majesties principal Secretaries: And to the Right worshipful Sir FRANCIS POPHAM Knight, RICHARD james wisheth all temporal and spiritual happiness.  
RIGHT Honourable, and Right worshipful,  
my public zeal to the one f you, and my private engagements to the other, haue inuit●● me to this Dedication; In it you may see a King dead, and living: dead according to the flesh, but living in the monument of his virtues, which survive beyond all desolation, beyond all funerals. Their lustre and irradiation is such, both in the first action, and in the thence proceeding precedent of their examples, that in themselves, they need no Panegiris, nor Commendation. But yet that I might express my zeal to his tomb, I did my obedience to his crown, I haue brought the mite of these Tributary lays, to the Consecrated Altar of his remembrance. If your candour and worthiness entertain them favourably, and give them a free and noble acceptance, the author shall think his endeavours fortunate, and shall for ever rest:  
Your Honours, and your Worships ever devoted Seruant. RICHARD james.   

THE MVSES DIRGE.  
 decorative header depicting a skull flanked on either side by crossbones  

behold this heap of bones, this senseless skull,  
This speaking emblem represents at full  
Mans frail estate, which like unto the grass  
Doth fade, and whither, and away doth pass  
In less then time: So that from out the womb  
We come no sooner, but unto the tomb  
we make our Course, this being Heaue'ns decree  
Since the first fruit of the forbidden three  
Was chewed by Adam; that his seed always  
Should haue on Earth but few, and evil daies.  
The truth whereof, we with wet eyes may see  
In this sad mirror of mortality,  
Whose dayes though Long, were even as a Span  
To great Iehouaes wide all measuring hand.  
Whose daies though good, had yet their thorny shares  
Of worldly griefs, and sceptre cirkling cares.  
Which he surmounting with the powerful strength  
Of his Seraphicke soul, o'er swai'd at length  
Eu'n as at first; transforming all their gull  
( Which makes so many souls sick mortals thrall)  
To sweet Nepenthe, with whose pleasures drunk  
under their mass. his vigour never sunk  
But still aspired: Like to the bide they call  
Of paradise, which nere on Earth doth fall  
Though made of Earth: But still frequents the sky,  
And still amongst those Azured Orbs doth fly.  
On Earth he living, lived no earthly life  
But fly'd above ambition, pride, and strife:  
above those sins, which with divisions chain  
pluck Man from God, and God from Man again.  
So that whatsoever Lustre you could find,  
dispersed amongst whole millions of mankind,  
Of different graces, shining like rich gems,  
Set in the fronts of several Diadems:  
All these, like Crownes, adorned his royal head,  
And of them all, large stories you may read  
In his Life Legend: Learning, gravity,  
soul piercing Eloquence, rare Chastity,  
Iustice, Compassion, pity, Piety,  
constancy, Prudence, Saint-like Charity:  
All these were locked within the Sytttim Chest,  
Of his retired and celestial breast.  
Then as some rich perfumes being sent from far,  
Where rising Phoebus mounts his glistering car,  
Shut up in Boxes of Arabian Gold,  
sand from the midst of that enclosing mould,  
An Aromaticke sweet perfuming smell,  
Whereon the soul and rauish't sense doth dwell:  
These virtues inthronized in that shrine,  
Which did enclose those faculties divine,  
Sent forth unto great Brittaines gazing view,  
An object of a bright transparent hew,  
His glorious Life, which all men did admire,  
As sparkling from the clear Promethian fi●e  
Of Lawe, and reason, which were still the squares  
Of all his Life, his actions, and affairs,  
Nor thus alone did admiration grace,  
But imitation did the footsteps trace  
Of his example. That the common wealth  
Was fraught with plenty, peace, and public health:  
So that no members vnimploy'd did lie,  
But answered others with conformity:  
All this proceeded from th'iradient light  
Of james his presidents, whose splendour might  
In future Ages serve for patterns store,  
And blemish all examples wrought before.  
He was that Head from whom the reverend train  
Of our Law-giuers did their motions gain:  
He was that head from whom the States-man took:  
His Oracles, as from some Delphian book:  
He was that head from whom the scholar drew  
contemplative and Pracique Maxims too.  
sixth Henries zeal, was lodged within his breast,  
seventh Henries wisdom in his soul did rest,  
Third Edwards care his sceptre di● attend,  
Elizabeths sweet meekness did commend  
His Princely government, as truly good,  
As it was free from slaughter-breathing blood.  
And all these Graces in such plenteous measure,  
Were powred forth of great Pandorus treasure,  
Vpon his regal self, that all her hoard.  
All her large magazine could scarce afford  
But such another pattern; pleasing Peace,  
Full swelling plenty, private, public ease  
Were handmaids to his sceptre; He that ploughs  
The western Isles, and Irelands slimy sloughes,  
The Redshanke which frequents that northern shore,  
Where Neptunes waves against could Orkney roar.  
The nimble Kerne, who footes it o'er the paces,  
The Bog's, and Quagmires, and those uncouth placess,  
Where Oncals bastard issue, proud Tyrone  
As Vlsters Monarch did himself ●nthrone:  
All these reformed grew, and patterns took  
Of life and living, from th'exemplar book  
Of their late sovereign: whose religious care,  
No cost of coin, no labour did ferbeare,  
To restore Churches in th' Hybernian Land,  
spoyled by th'accursed northern Rebels hand  
Thus popular, and vncontrould applause,  
Did all the Current of his actions grace;  
Only that impute, pure reputed sect,  
Which singular preciseness doth affect,  
Which slies from Conscience, and makes gloz'd pretence  
Their stalking-Horse, and their Religions essence:  
Only th'Ignatian conclave, which adores  
Their triple Mytred Prelate, and implores  
His Pardon more then Gods, when as they spin  
The unhallowed web of their vnueniall sin:  
These were the sole enviers of that state  
Which all this continent possessed of late,  
From th'insluence of his most glorious reign,  
Free from that blemish, and that menstruous stain  
Which foreign kingdoms suffer; and to these  
Who were this islands burden, and disease,  
But mark his mercy: that black Powder-plot,  
Which at the public desolation shot,  
And meant with one state and King-killing stroke,  
Religions form and government to choke:  
Th' Argilian Treason, nor the dreadful bent  
Of Gowries complot wanting president;  
All these Conspiracies could not enforce  
Our james to leave his mercies ancient course.  
As knowing this to be th'Almighties Type,  
Which makes the Creature to his Creator like;  
Yet all these Graces, nor their swelling dower,  
Which th'heauens did in such abundance power,  
Could not once stop the fatal Sisters knife,  
Nor add one minute to his canceled Life.  
Not all that mass of vnexhausted store,  
Which lies from dover to the northern Shore,  
Not that most awful sceptre, nor that crown,  
Which now the Princes temples doth surround,  
Not all these dignities could once assuage,  
The boundless bounds of Deaths unsatiate rage,  
Which strikes alike the sceptre, and Plough-share,  
And striking doth nor King, nor peasant spare.  
But o thou scourge of Man-kind, why shouldst thou  
To Kings, and Monarchs, thy destruction vow?  
O why should their Annoynted Corps endure  
Thy killing Plague, thy raging calenture?  
Wa'st not enough that streams of purple blood,  
Conieal'd of late on Beame-lands surface stood?  
Wa'st not enough that all Sycambr'ias tract  
By thy dire shafts lay desolate and sacte?  
But must thy winged wrath invade this Land,  
And myriad kill with that accursed hand,  
Whose rage no vulgar blood-shed could allay,  
Nor common Carnage could thy fury stay?  
But must thy longing soul devour a flood  
Of more e'nobled consecrated blood?  
And like some Horse leech thou must suck the veins  
Of four thrice honoured peers, whose moving strains  
under our King, did rule three kingdoms lore,  
And in that rule a glorious portion bore.  
And could not hear thy baneful malice stop,  
But must thy fatal Axe that Cedar lop,  
That branched three, which shadowed all the soil,  
Of this Heau'ns-blessed, and Iames-blessed Ile?  
Must james die like the rest, and die to us,  
When we did want him most? Then dying thus,  
Shall his remembrance vnremembred pass,  
assoon as h'is entombed in the mass  
Of's Mother Earth? Shall no Plebeian Verse  
adorn the Shrine of his diviner Hearse?  
Shall not the Muses learned pencil raise  
Some Monument to his immortal praise?  
Shall he that wrote Lepantoes famous Story,  
And gave a living lustre to the glory  
Of those time-honour'd Christians, who did fight  
Against fierce Partaes and Euchalies might?  
Shall he that wrote vpon that thorny Care,  
Which Crownes& sceptres in their compass bear?  
Shall he that squared the δωρόνσ royal gem,  
far richer then his Triple diadem,  
Wherein his sons might those Characters see,  
Which God requires in selfe-like majesty?  
Shall he that did those Mysteries unfold,  
Which blessed John in Pathmos Ile foretold,  
Who did discover all the cursed shifts  
Of demoniacs, and their hellish drifts?  
Shall he that gave the sceptre, rules to sway,  
And taught how Subiects should their King obey?  
Who did defend that Oath which doth maintain,  
The right of Monarchs, that on earth do reign?  
Who made Perounes proud cardinal stand mute,  
And Vorstius sums did learnedly confute?  
Shall he that raised others from the night  
Of dark oblivion want obsequious right?  
Oh shall the Sisters three thrice numbered Chore,  
Which walks on Isis, and on Grantaes shore?  
Oh shall Apolloes laureate conclave bee  
So envious unto just solemnity,  
As not to bring their tributary lays,  
To frontispiece the Marble of his praise?  
Not so, nor so, for sooner shall that Hill  
Whereas they sit Achaias Champion fill?  
Sooner shall Aganippes springs grow scant,  
And Phoebus Darlings sacred liquour want,  
Then that great james his consecrated urn,  
Shall want Fames vestal flames, which still shall burn  
Till Times last period, and shall never die,  
Till all things fade, except eternity.  
For wast not that the Muses stood at gaze  
Vpon that sun, whose splendour did amaze  
Their dazzled senses? Wast not that his life  
Within their doubtful judgements raised a strife,  
And made their Consort to demur at large,  
Before they durst to undergo this charge,  
Thinking their outward Varnish might deface  
His inward worth, perfection, form and grace;  
Had it not been their candour scorns to give  
Fames funerals to Princes whilst they live?  
Or that their synod did desire to see  
The final Act of his mortality?  
Some johnson, Drayton, or some Herick would  
Before this time haue charactered the Mould  
Of his perfections; and in living Lines,  
Haue made them known before these mourning times.  
Nor was our james his life more fit me and sure,  
More free, and spotless, sublimate and pure,  
Then was his farewell to this sinful earth,  
Which brought him to Eternities first birth:  
So that a fruitful Panegericke field,  
His Life and Death unto the Learned yield,  
Whereafter all the volumes of their praise,  
Their sable sheets, and Elegiacke lays,  
They may conclude, james lived and died so well,  
That Life and Death in him were parallel.  
His life, was not like some Aprilian blast,  
Which endeth in a cloudy storm at last.  
Nor was it like some Riuers crystal source,  
Which muddy runs in his continued course:  
For as he lived, so did this Monarch die,  
And left for pattern to posterity,  
The bright examples of his life and death,  
Shining like Ledaes twins, on heaven, on earth.  
Thus to be brief, he lived and dyed so well,  
That Life and Death strove both which should excel.  
For when that Galens skill could not appease  
The raging of his Callentur'd disease;  
When Death approached, and the fatal knife  
Began to touch the cordial strings of life:  
he knowing, that th' Egyptian tottering reed  
Of human help, and succour could not stead  
His soul in this distress; did not rely  
Vpon that broken column, but did fly  
To that all-helping, and all-healing hand,  
Which for his good, still moving, still did stand.  
His Conscience being jealous of those faults,  
Of those transgressiue crimes, and those defaults,  
Which prest his soul, before his final gasp,  
Their Counting book he plainly did vnclaspe,  
And fully did confess that mass of sin,  
Which he from's youth to's elder Age did spin;  
He knowing true repentance for to bee  
A second jordan for that leprosy,  
Which ouerspreads the soul: and that the balm  
Of Maries tears was sovereign for his harm.  
he grinds his carnal heart, and strait relents,  
he flies from Law to Grace, and then repents  
For all those sins, which raise the parting wall,  
And make the creature from th' Creator fall:  
he grieves for them, as though he meant no more  
To grieve for sins, like to those sins before.  
Then mounted on the Cherub of his Faith,  
he thus and thus to his Redeemer saith:  
The dreadful terrors of the gaping grave  
Cannot my Courage, nor my zeal deprave:  
I know that Death eu'n with his grimmest face,  
Can but this rotten House of day deface,  
And that, that last Omega well to die,  
Is but the Alpha to eternity.  
I know my sins are great, and that their fright  
Might justly bring an everlasting night  
Vpon my pensive soul, but that my Hope,  
joined with a lively Faith, doth vnder-prop  
These human frailties, and do make me fly  
From fears sad Mansion, to that crystal sky  
Where my Redeemer lives, who doth receive  
All those who leave sin, before sin them leave.  
But though my faults be great, my private sense  
Doth thus far comfort my sad Conscience,  
That though they be, of a vermilion die  
I never yet left my fidelity  
To Faith nor true Religion; but did lay  
My sole foundation on that rocky stay:  
This was the Pole, the Pillar, and the light,  
Which did direct my sinne-eschewing sight  
From the first day, that I this light did see  
To this last act of my mortality.  
Then calling for the sacred Bread and Wine,  
Which powerfully doth man and God combine,  
He takes it from that learned prelates hand,  
Which Lincolnes Sea rules as Diocesan,  
And this he did vpon that glorious day,  
Wherein he first did Englands sceptre sway.  
twice had the sun his smoking Axle steep't,  
Within the billows of the western deep,  
When Saturne look't vpon the third daies light,  
With a malignant, ill fore-boading sight,  
For two hours after that sad middaies date  
he lost his Speech, which did prognosticate  
The dire disaster of this Monarchs death,  
Who next day left, that Mansion house of earth,  
And laid his royal earthly sceptre down,  
To put on heau'ns immortalised crown.  
But after that his speech began to fail,  
And pale-fac't Death did cu'ry sense assail;  
When as they prayed or red, to those sweet lines  
He gave consent with clear transparent fignes,  
By lifting up his hands, his arms, his eyes,  
To him that dwells above th'all Circling skies.  
But on the Sunday morn, four hours before  
The sun saluted Englands eastern shore,  
he calling for his son, lifts up his head,  
By Ramseys help, from off the fatal bed,  
Where his last act was kissing of his son,  
And his last words were calling still vpon  
His Princely CHARLES, who did even melt,  
For those sad pains which dying james then felt.  
Hence in the midst of those suspicious fears,  
That mass of woes, those Cataracks of tears,  
His royal Race, his Stock thats left behind,  
May in their mourning thoughts this comfort find;  
That alls not dead, for one part is ascended,  
T'other being dust, to dust is now descended,  
Whereas a pawn engaged that mortal lies,  
Till glorified immortal it shall rise.  
And as for me though that black sundays light,  
Whereon grim Saturne look't as black as night,  
And th' heauens powred such storms of melting showers,  
Out of Aquarius tempest-breathing bowers,  
And wept as though his loss they did lament,  
In whom the world received so much content.  
Although that day shall ne're be registered  
In my sad thoughts, nor once be kalendred  
Amongst the white ones, but be marked for bad  
Prodigious, dismal, Ominous, and Sad.  
Yet this shall be a cordial to my mind,  
virtues did add before, famed adds behind,  
Life to his life, which shall for ever last  
Beyonds Times power, and false detractions blast,  
Yet this shall be my comfort, that his Throne  
commandments not a CHARL's fit for succession,  
under whose reign, this Sea divided Land,  
Which runs from Kantium to th' Orcadian Strands;  
under whose reign, fat Ireland and faire France  
Shall lift up their dejected countenance  
With mirth and gladness. For no foreign foe,  
This Neptune-girdled monarchy shall know  
Nor feel within her entrails; no State cankers,  
With public miseries shall glut their rankors,  
No Court-Hyrudoes shall make Iustice bleed,  
Nor on the Commons desolation feed,  
Elizaes dayes shall once again return,  
And james his daies rise out of james his urn.  
Let us not then who do survive him here  
In this dark vale, with sable mourning cheer  
Lament him more, since he doth live, though dead,  
Within his CHARLES, since that his glorious head  
Is Heau'n-Thronized, where he now doth sing  
Alleluiae's to the celestial King,  
amongst the winged troops, where he now sees  
The perfect shape of faiths dark mysteries,  
And that not in a glass, but face to face  
Reflected from the splendour of that grace,  
Which gives us faith below; and then above,  
immortal Knowledge, wisdom, Truth and love.    

Anagramata Anglica-Latina, OR: certain Anagrams applied unto the death of our late sovereign King james of blessed memory.  

KING james. 
 I am seeking.  
WHat didst thou seek, O james, Great Brittaines King  
Wast sceptres more or Diadems to bring  
unto thy rule? or soughts thou to subdue  
By subtle Plots, or Mars his warlike crew  
Thy smooth-toung'd foes? who had they had but power  
Would not haue spared, blood-storming showers to poure  
Vpon thyself, thy kingdom, and thy Race,  
But would haue sought Great britain to deface,  
And do to thee, as they haue done to those  
Whom just pretences made them lawful foes.  
Or didst thou seek by force to make the Rhine  
Reacknowledge homage to the Palatine?  
Or soughts thou by new conquests to obtain  
Another World vpon the western main?  
Not thus, nor thus, for thy diviner bent  
Did never rest vpon the Firmament  
Of these proiections, for thy chiefest aim  
Was heaven on Earth, and from Earth heaven to gain,  
On Earth, o King, thou ne're soughts Earthly treasures,  
'twas Iustice, Piety, Peace, and Heauens pleasures;  
These were the things, which thou great Monarch sough  
And th' only scopes of thy celestial thoughts.   

Another vpon the same.  
O he is gone, for whom the Sisters three  
Of grace do mourn, and chide with destiny:  
O he is gone for whom Apollo sings  
A fatal Dirge, unto his weeping strings:  
O he is gone, for whom the Muses cry  
In sable weeds with doleful melody.  
But although james bee gone, he's gone to seek  
That Mansion, where the King of Kings doth keep;  
Yet all's not gone, for heaven keeps his Spirit,  
famed his remembrance, Honour his due Merit.  
Thus being lost, he's found, and seeking finds  
That happiness, which earth-deuoted minds  
do never seek, nor ever shall obtain,  
Because they seek not heaven on earth to gain.   

Anagrammata Latina.  
jacobus REX. 
 Bis Rex Vaco.  
QVi modo regnaui trino Diademate cinctus  
Bis Rex Imperio, bis Diadema gerens:  
Cuius erat quicquid diuisus ab orb Brittannus  
Posidet,& pulchri quicquid Hybernus habet.  
Nunc ego mundanis curis& mole solutus  
Ethereâ Liber spiritus arce vaco.   

Aliud in idem.  
DIgnus eras cunis Scotiae Diademate, dignus  
Qui gereres tenera Regia sceptra manu;  
Dignus eras, quum te signior cognoueraraetas,  
Annosa vt gereres sceptra Brittanna manui  
Bisque coronatus, meliori cincta corona  
Tempora pro meritis, nuuc Iacobe, tenes:  
Sic tibi post triplicis, triplicata pericula regni,  
Post haec divinis rebus adesse vacat.   

Aliud Anagramma.  
jacobus REX. 
 Ob curas Exî.  
QVi triplicis Regni totidem moderatus habenas,  
Bisque coronatus nostro regnauerat orb,  
Cuius erat, quicquid toto circumflua ponto  
Insula dives habet, quicquid quae a virgin terra  
Nomen habet, habuit, vel quicquid Hybernia tota:  
Post varias curas,& multa pericula Regni  
Hac tumulatus humo, foelici conditur vrna.  
Exutus, sic exivit, sic pondere liber  
Terreno, ad manes facilis migrauit Elyse,  
Henricique Annaeque suae, iunctusque corone  
Coelicolûm, aeterna foelix dominatur in aula.   
FINIS.