<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
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<DATE>2012-01-02</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>Colm MacCrossan</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch Z120011.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="OX" ID="A95411">
<STC T="W">T3417</STC>
<STC T="T">E358_12</STC>
<STC T="C">R201159</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99897727</BIBNO>
<VID>170978</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<P>AN ELEGY VPON the unhappy lo&s;&s;e OF THE NOBLE EARLE OF ESSEX.</P>
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>John Ben&s;on,</HI> and are to be &s;old at his &s;hop in Dun&s;tanes Church-yard. 1646.</P>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="elegiac poem">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<PB N="3" REF="2">
<HEAD>An Elegy on the Death of the noble Earle of <HI>E&s;&s;ex.</HI></HEAD>
<LG>
<L>_I Need no fatall quill that ha's the art</L>
<L>At every line it writes to breake an heart:</L>
<L>For when I &s;hall but once begin t' expre&s;&s;e</L>
<L>The publique cau&s;e, and &s;ubject of my ver&s;e,</L>
<L>More motives may be &s;par'd our un&s;train'd grief</L>
<L>Will need no provocation; but reliefe.</L>
<L><HI>E&s;&s;ex is dead.</HI> What thunder &s;trikes our eares,</L>
<L>Threatning an inundation of teares?</L>
<L>This is a judgement more then wee conceiv'd,</L>
<L>To be by our be&s;t hope the mo&s;t deceiv'd:</L>
<L>And that the Noble Cau&s;e of our Redre&s;&s;e,</L>
<L>Should now be &s;o of our extreame Di&s;tre&s;&s;e.</L>
<L>Or is 't a mercy, &s;ince Heaven did intend</L>
<L>At la&s;t, an exil'd peace back t' us to &s;end?</L>
<L>Thus to make way, by &s;oft'ning our hard hearts</L>
<L>By &s;uch a blow; which the &s;ucce&s;&s;ive darts</L>
<L>It &s;hot at our owne per&s;ons, could not pierce</L>
<L>Who ne'er had wept but at his frowne or hear&s;e.</L>
<L>That wee exchanging for new griefe, old hate;</L>
<L>(Though &s;encele&s;&s;e of our owne) might mourne his fate;</L>
<L>That teares begun for lo&s;&s;e might end for &s;in,</L>
<L>And hearts twice broke let peace and mercy in.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But is he gone from us! Injurious Death</L>
<L>Ha&s;t thou depriv'd him of that purer breath</L>
<L>Then quickens vulgar lumps; I then could wi&s;h,</L>
<L>That old Pythagoras Metemp&s;ycho&s;is</L>
<L>Were not a fable, that the world might boa&s;t</L>
<L>A &s;econd Phoenix, now the fir&s;t is lo&s;t.</L>
<PB N="4" REF="3">
<L>When England lo&s;t it's darling in the fate</L>
<L>Of his lov'd Father (though unfortunate</L>
<L>In their de&s;ires) their hopes did &s;till &s;urviue,</L>
<L>Whil'&s;t he had left &s;o brave a Son alive.</L>
<L>Who&s;e early youthfull blo&s;&s;omes did pre&s;age</L>
<L>Mo&s;t glorious fruits in his more riper age</L>
<L>But all that then was hop'd was that the Son</L>
<L>Should keepe that honour which his Father wonne.</L>
<L>But he not bounded by &s;trict pre&s;ident</L>
<L>His, as all other patternes quite out went.</L>
<L>Compleate&s;t acts of ancient Hero's were</L>
<L>The e&s;&s;aies of his youth, whereon to reare</L>
<L>Fames highe&s;t Stories, their great aimes were found</L>
<L>His fir&s;t attempts, their battlements his ground.</L>
<L>So that great E&s;&s;ex's name is greater growne</L>
<L>By his Sons honour added to his owne.</L>
<L>For ev'n in them was long time verifi'd</L>
<L>What's &s;aid of Kings, for E&s;&s;ex never di'd</L>
<L>Till now. But now the Title too is gone</L>
<L>A Title men will tremble to put on</L>
<L>Though offer'd; &s;ince it &s;trongly do's oblige</L>
<L>To courage, councell, combate, &s;torming, &s;eidge,</L>
<L>Devotion, Temp'rance, and what ever can</L>
<L>Render the wearer a mo&s;t perfect man.</L>
<L>And &s;urely, had Heav'n ble&s;t us but &s;o much</L>
<L>As with a Son of his, he had been &s;uch:</L>
<L>This envious fiends &s;u&s;pected, and did try</L>
<L>Their utmo&s;t skill to barre him progeny.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>But he &s;hall live in his more la&s;ting name</L>
<L>Borne on the wings of never-dying Fame.</L>
<L>No Chronicler &s;hall need to write his prai&s;e</L>
<L>In mouldy parchment left to after-daies</L>
<PB N="5" REF="3">
<L>For as the holy Patriarchs Religion</L>
<L>Was le&s;t to them by long-deriv'd tradition;</L>
<L>So &s;hall his acts be handed to tho&s;e men</L>
<L>Are yet unborne, and they the &s;ame agen</L>
<L>&s;hall tell their Childrens Children, till it grow</L>
<L>Part of their education to doe &s;o.</L>
<L>In his poore Cottage by a Winter fire</L>
<L>To his great granchildren &s;hall the aged fire</L>
<L>From's ea&s;ie chaire relate the ancient &s;tories</L>
<L>Of his exploits and vertues; whil'&s;t he glories</L>
<L>T' have trail'd a pike at Keinton, or receiv'd</L>
<L>A &s;hot at Reading, or when 'twas reliev'd</L>
<L>T' have march't to Glo&s;ter, then the memory</L>
<L>Of that unparallell'd Newb'ry victory</L>
<L>Shall cau&s;e him rake his embers, and proceed</L>
<L>To tell the Generals vertue as his deed.</L>
<L>"And yet my Children, though all this did he</L>
<L>"He courted not the peoples cap or knee.</L>
<L>"Their prai&s;e or di&s;prai&s;e he did not regard,</L>
<L>"Virtue that &s;et him on was his reward.</L>
<L>"And though he had (yet was) been prais'd by none;</L>
<L>"He dur&s;t in &s;pight of all be good alone.</L>
<L>"He moov'd by his owne principles, for 'tis knowne</L>
<L>"He was not wrought by Royal &s;mile or frowne.</L>
<L>"Like to the tru&s;ty Sun he kept his line</L>
<L>"Pur&s;uing &s;till his fir&s;t and knowne de&s;igne,</L>
<L>"He was not made for changes, nor could lend</L>
<L>"An I. in Parliament for a by-end.</L>
<L>"If he had foes they dur&s;t not mak't appeare,</L>
<L>"His frowne alone would &s;trike them dead with feare.</L>
<L>"And if they wi&s;p'rd any thing ami&s;&s;e</L>
<L>"They guard his name with a parenthe&s;is.</L>
<PB N="6" REF="4">
<L>"Still <HI>[He was faithfull]</HI> who &s;o e'r offended</L>
<L>"Tis much to be by All &s;o well commended.</L>
<L>"But they were wi&s;e; who dur&s;t the &s;ame deny</L>
<L>"Sure he was de&s;p'rate and re&s;olv'd to dye.</L>
<L>"Who &s;o dur&s;t meet him, dur&s;t doe more then Death</L>
<L>"That ravi&s;h'd not, but &s;tole away his breath</L>
<L>"Ah treacherous coward that did'&s;t &s;lily creepe</L>
<L>"At unawares, to kill him in his &s;leepe.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Now Noble Peeres after his Hear&s;e march on,</L>
<L>Mourne as you go, your great exampl's gone.</L>
<L>And you grave Patriots learne to know your lo&s;&s;e,</L>
<L>He was your ble&s;&s;ing whom &s;ome thought your cro&s;&s;e.</L>
<L>You reverend Synod, cannot chu&s;e but &s;hed</L>
<L>Some Fun'rall teares &s;ince your &s;tout Patron's dead.</L>
<L>And you brave Souldiers will have moi&s;tned eyes</L>
<L>For he is fall'n by whom you all did ri&s;e.</L>
<L>Weepe Widdows weepe, he's gone that was of late</L>
<L>Your mo&s;t indulgent, con&s;tant Advocate.</L>
<L>And you that once were foes &s;ome teares be&s;tow</L>
<L>On your owne &s;elves, your fines will not be low.</L>
<L>Weepe England now, thou &s;e'&s;t thy Champion's end,</L>
<L>Scotland weepe too, for thou ha&s;t lo&s;t a Friend.</L>
<L>But Ireland mo&s;t of all, expre&s;&s;e thy griefe</L>
<L>For he is dead that long'd to &s;end reliefe.</L>
<L>Weepe Vertue too, for thou a Widdow art,</L>
<L>And well mai'&s;t act the chiefe&s;t mourners part:</L>
<L>And Envy weepe, and &s;tarve, now he is gone</L>
<L>Thoul't &s;carce find goodne&s;&s;e heere to feed upon.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="verse epitaph">
<PB N="7" REF="4">
<HEAD><HI>An Epitaph on the Earle of</HI> E&s;&s;ex.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>BOa&s;t Marble, that conceal'&s;t this Du&s;t</L>
<L>Not of thy La&s;tingne&s;&s;e, but Tru&s;t.</L>
<L>Ten thou&s;and unto thee &s;hall bring</L>
<L>Of vowed teares their offering.</L>
<L>The drie&s;t eye &s;hall drop a Gem</L>
<L>T' enrich death's envi'd Diadem.</L>
<L>To thine, great <HI>E&s;&s;ex's</HI> Memory</L>
<L>Shall adde it's owne eternity:</L>
<L>Thereby thou &s;halt thy &s;elfe out la&s;t</L>
<L>Which el&s;e, like other &s;tones, would'&s;t wa&s;te</L>
<L>And mix thy Du&s;t with them, that deepe</L>
<L>Thou unprophaned now do'&s;t keepe.</L>
<L>Nay Death it &s;elfe will &s;ure prevent</L>
<L>Of His and <HI>E&s;&s;ex</HI> Monument</L>
<L>The lea&s;t decay: For neer did he</L>
<L>More glory in a victory.</L>
<L>On thee Death &s;its in &s;tate, and braves</L>
<L>Him&s;elfe more then on neighbour-graves.</L>
<L>To kill a Prince, or Duke, or &s;o,</L>
<L>Is counted but Death's common blow.</L>
<L>But when he &s;lew brave <HI>E&s;&s;ex,</HI> he</L>
<L>Did triumph ore Humanity.</L>
<L>The Virger that's wont to relate</L>
<L>This Princes valour, that's e&s;tate,</L>
<L>The vertuous life and famous acts</L>
<L>Of Peeres decea&s;ed, the extracts</L>
<L>Of every noble Family;</L>
<L>May finde all in Epitome:</L>
<L>And &s;ave the labour of Retaile</L>
<L>And tell the people, HERE LIES, ALL.</L>
</LG>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Th. Twi&s;&s;.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
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