(Thanks to Peter Dickson for bringing this poem to the attention of elizaforum.)
AN ELEGIE VPON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT NOBLE and Magnanimous Heroë, HENRY Earle of Oxford, Viscount Bulbec, Lord Samford, and Lord great Chamberlaine of England.
WHO SICKENED IN SERVICE OF HIS KING and Countrie, in defence of the States. And died at the Hagh in Holland. Aprill 1625.
By ABRAHAM HOLLAND.
Printed 1626.
TO THE RIGHT HONOV
RABLE AND NOBLE LADY, DIANA, Countesse of OXFORD, Dowager of the Deceased HENRY Earle of OXFORD, Viscount BVLBEC, Lord SAMFORD, and Lord great Chamberlaine of ENGLAND. AND, TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE AND APPROVED Souldier, ROBERT VERE, the succeeding Earle of OXFORD, Heire apparant to the same Noble Titles and Honours.
To both their Honours, This Elegie is Consecrated.
By H. H. (Note - Henry Holland)
An Elegie upon the Death of the right Noble and Magnanimous HENRIE Earle of Oxford, Viscount Bulbec, &c.
WHat Starre was wanting in the Skie? what place
To be supplied anew? what empty space
That requir'd OXFORD? was some Light growne dim,
Some Starre Decrepit that suborned Him
To darke the Earth by his Departure? Sure
The Thracian God to make his Orbe more pure
Hath borrow'd him; where in his fiery Carre
He shines a better MARS, a brighter Starre?
Or like a new Orion doth he stand
In Christall Maile, and a bright blade in's hand
An armed Constellation, while the Quire
Of Pyrrhick dancers, with reflecting fire
Glitter on him? or like a Comets rage
Strikes he amazement on the trembling age?
Alas! these glorious fancies but expresse
His worth and our love to him, not make lesse
The rape of Fate, while we poore Mortalls farre
More want such men than heaven could want a Star.
Let Griefe then speake, and for this wofull time
Let me nor studie Number, Verse, or rime,
But write in fragments, so't shall be my due
Though not a Poet good, a Mourner true.
Though I should say no more but, OXFORD's dead,
That would be made an Elegie, to spread
It selfe as farre as sorrow, the Contents
Enlarg'd to Volumes, by the teares, laments,
And griefe in-generall, when the world affords
So vast a comment unto so few words.
Yee Powers above that looke on men with eyes
Iust and impartiall, if in Fate there lies
Still more revenge, ô let us wretches know
Our lot before, that we may weepe below
A timely expiation, and prevent
The torrent of thy wrath which now is bent
To make a Deluge or'e us, who have found,
Though after all Great IAMES was laid in ground,
A Plague, and OXFORDS Death: 'tis hard to say
Which of the two doth more our losse display
The ruines both being Generall: and can
Heaven be so angrie with poore feeble man
To persecute him further? No, the rage
Of Pestilence which spreadeth through the age
Can scarce surpasse his losse: cast feare away
Fate cannot teeme more mischiefe; and must stay
Now at the height of Vengeance: OXFORDS death
Hath ingag'd heaven to spare the rest beneath.
Who, what he living was those men can tell
Who past the North and Southerne Poles doe dwell
I need not write it: that were but to show
What we now want, and what we once did owe
To such a man, whose like ensuing dayes
Shall scarce produce: Antiquitie may praise
Their HECTORS, and ACHILLES, with a dim
And fain'd applause, while we doe but right him
In their Encomiums. Who like a New-borne Starre
Bred us amazement onely, and from farre
Made us admire what he in time would bee,
And so shut up his Early light, while wee
Wonder that Fate could be so prodigall
So soone to show, so quickly to let fall
So great a glorie; which we well may say
Had but an houre, a Minute, a short day
That did deserve an age: yea, some will say
As the best things, he made the shorter stay
T'expresse an Excellence: Yet alas, herein
We doe but flatter sorrow and our sin
Which tooke him hence; for had he stay'd till then
When there should be no memorie left of men
H'had bin a Choice of heaven, and surpass't
The Annalls and the Chronicles, which vast
Vncertaine times have made: doe not surmize
That I herein am set t'Hyperbolize,
A strict Historian of the time that say's
Lesse, shall be held Detractour of his Praise.
Yea, future judgements when they shall compare
Him with the rest shall call those writers spare,
Who made him not a Patterne, as the blinde
Old HOMER, did ACHILLES, of his Kinde.
Alas 'twas nothing in the ancient time
For Noble men to raise their names, and clime
By hauty acts unto the top of Fame,
When as obeysance to their Prince did claime,
And their owne Interests, that they should show
Not more what they adventur'd, than did owe:
When each day almost new invasions, when
Civill disturbance did compell the men
To a forc'd valour: In those times to have
A TALBOT, ESSEX, or a DRAKE did save
The Countrie but from damage: but that now
When the now-Sainted IAMES had made a VOW
To blesse himselfe, and us by making Peace:
That not all Spirit, and all MARS should cease
But such a flame from those still ashes rise,
Did saue the Land from guilt of Cowardize.
Since OXFORD was a Youth, BELLONA ne're
Breath'd her allarmes in this our Hemisphere,
But he pursu'd them, with a Noble fire
To fame his Countrie, and his owne desire
Grounded on that: Great Venice and the Fates
Though lucklesse of Bohemia, with the States
Now fatall to him, and th'attempted Seas
Shall be his true, though Posthumes witnesses.
He sought no new-made Honours in the Tide
Of favour, but was borne the same he di'de.
Nor came he to the Elysium with shame
That the old VERES did blush to heare his Name
Brighter than theirs: where his deserts to grace
His Grand-fathers rose up and gave him place,
And set him with the Heroës, where the Quire
Of ayrie Worthies rise up, and admire
The stately Shade: those Brittish Ghosts which long
Agoe were number'd in th'Elysian throng
Ioy to behold him; SYDNEY threw his Bayes
On OXFORDS head, and daign'd to sing his praise;
While Fame with silver Trumpet did keepe time
With his high Voice, and answered his rime.
The soft inticements of the Court, the smiles
Of Glorious Princes the bewitching wiles
Of softer Ladies, and the Golden State
That in such places doth on Greatnesse waite
And all the shadie happinesse which seemes
To attend Kings and follow Diadems
Were Boy-games to his minde: to see a Maske
And sit it out, he held a greater taske
Than to endure a Siege: to wake all Night
In his cold armour, still expecting fight
And the drad On-set, the sad face of feare,
And the pale silence of an Army, were
His best Delights; among the common rout
Of his rough Souldiers to sit hardnesse out
Were his most pleasing Delicates: to him
A Batter'd Helmet was a Diadem:
And wounds, his Brauerie: Knowing that Fame
And faire Eternitie could neuer claime
Their Meeds without such Hazards: but alas
That wee must say, such a Man OXFORD was,
A Hatefull Syllable which doth implie
Valour can be extinct and Vertue die.
O wer't not Profanation, I now
Could turne a stiffe Pythagorist and allow
A reall Metempsychosis, if so
The Soule of OXFORD might divided flow
On much Nobilitie: and yet my sect
Should honour finde from hence, they no Defect.
This was the yeare of Iubile in Rome
No meruaile, 'twas of griefe with us at home,
England hath bin Romes Sacrifice, the whiles
Our Teares and Funerals haue bred their Smiles
A company of sacred Soules before
Him left Mortalitie, as if the skore
Of Fate were quickly to be payd: but when
He left us wretches to continue men,
While hee himselfe did to a Crowne attaine
The whole Quire seem'd in him to die againe:
As if h' had bin th' Epitome, and Briefe
Of all their Vertues, and of all our griefe:
But Fate did act this last and greatest theft
To see if wee had any Sorrow left,
As if those loued Soules which went before
Had spent our teares, and left our Eyes no more,
Alas, now pities us and bids us sleepe
Seeing when Eyes are done our hearts can weepe.
Two Epitaphs vpon the same Noble Earle.
EPITAPH. 1.
PAssenger that needs wilt know
Who lyeth here
First let mee craue,
That thou, thy Pietie to show
Let fall a teare
Upon the Graue:
'Tis Oxford: whom when thou shalt finde
Entoomb'd below
Who late did liue,
Thou thy selfe shalt call vnkinde,
To haue bin so
Jnquisitiue.
EPITAPH. 2.
TO say that OXFORD here or there
Doth lye, confines a place
To his vnbounded Fame,
That Body which, you balme and seare
That Image you doe grace,
Js but his Shade, his Name.
What place of Heauen hath his Soule
And his diviner parts,
To mortals is vnknowne;
This wee may say without controll,
Jn all true English hearts
His Toombe is made, though they bee made of Stone.
FINIS.
*************************************
magnanimous/great-minded vs. charges of low-mindedness:
Shakespeare - Sonnet 72
O! lest the world should task you to recite
What merit lived in me, that you should love
After my death,--dear love, forget me quite,
For you in me can nothing worthy prove.
Unless you would devise some virtuous lie,
To do more for me than mine own desert,
And hang more praise upon deceased I
Than niggard truth would willingly impart:
O! lest your true love may seem false in this
That you for love speak well of me untrue,
My name be buried where my body is,
And live no more to shame nor me nor you.
For I am shamed by that which I bring forth,
And so should you, to love things nothing worth.
SONNET 111
O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide,
The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
That did not better for my life provide
Than public means which public manners breeds.
Thence comes it that my name receives a brand,
And almost thence my nature is subdued
To what it works in, like the dyer's hand:
Pity me then and wish I were renew'd;
Whilst, like a willing patient, I will drink
Potions of eisel 'gainst my strong infection
No bitterness that I will bitter think,
Nor double penance, to correct correction.
Pity me then, dear friend, and I assure ye
Even that your pity is enough to cure me.
112
Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow;
For what care I who calls me well or ill,
So you o'er-green my bad, my good allow?
You are my all-the-world, and I must strive
To know my shames and praises from your tongue;
None else to me, nor I to none alive,
That my steeled sense or changes right or wrong.
In so profound abysm I throw all care
Of others' voices, that my adder's sense
To critic and to flatterer stopped are.
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
You are so strongly in my purpose bred,
That all the world besides methinks y'are dead.
***********************************
Author: Brooke, Christopher, d. 1628.
Title: Tvvo elegies
consecrated to the neuer-dying memorie of the most worthily admyred; most
hartily loued; and generally bewayled prince; Henry Prince of Wales.
Date: 1613
... HEE knew that Armes was th'exercise of KINGS;
The spurre to Fame, roote of
NOBILITIES
Hee knew his BIRTH and SPIRIT had lent him wings
To mount the
pitch of all his AVNCESTRIE:
Hee likewise knew Fames Trumpet neuer
rings
Of delicate Courtship, but with Infamy;
Hee knew that
Souldiers vs'd n'affected words,
Whose Tongues are speares, their Oratory
swords.
By Warres fayre shadow, his discoursiue Thought
Discernd the substance, and admyr'd the Face;
Bellona was his
GODDESSE, whom he sought
With Knightly valour, more then courtly grace:
Th'Impression of whose Figure so much wrought,
That he would front her
manly, and enchace
Vpon her sternest Brow, his temper'd steele;
ARMES
had his Hart; when LOVE had scarse his Heele.
Not
Canopies, but Tents tooke his DESIRE,
Not Courts, but Camps; nor could the
courtliest dames
(Though they shot Eye-bals wrapt in CVPIDS fire)
Pierce his steel'd Brest: but Bullets roll'd in Flames,
From
thundring Cannons, had more powre t'inspire;
Where Townes for markes; &
Crownes do stand for games;
Where Foes subdu'd, for right of Kingdomes
wrongs,
HONOVR might blaze with shield of golden Tongues.
These were the
Subiects of our PRINCES Aime;
A plumed Caske, a Speare, a Sword, a Shield;
Kingdomes his hope; Olympicke wreaths his Chaine;
Barriers his
practise, and the course of Field;
VVe look't HEE should haue impt the wings
of FAME;
Charm'd Death, ruld FATE, and made proud Fortune yeeld,
And
Lion-like haue forrag'do're the EARTH
To hunt his prey, and Crowne his NAME
and BIRTH.
**************************************
Author: Adams, Thomas, fl. 1612-1653.
Title: The souldiers
honour Wherein by diuers inferences and gradations it is euinced, that the
profession is iust, necessarie, and honourable: to be practised of some men,
praised of all men. Together with a short admonition concerning munition, to
this honour'd citie. Preached to the worthy companie of gentlemen, that exercise
in the artillerie garden: and now on thier second request, published to further
vse. By Tho. Adams.
Date:
1617
LONDON, Printed by Adam Islip and Edward Blount, and are to be
sold in Pauls Church-yard at the signe of the blacke Beare. 1617
...Be you but ready for warre, and I durst warrant your peace. Whilst you are
dissolute, they grow reso|lute. Ludouicus Viues reports, that the yong
nobles and gallants in a citie of Spaine were falne to such le|uitie of
carriage; that in stead of marching to the sound of a Drum, they were dancing
leuolto's to the Lute in a Ladies chamber: their Beauers were tur|ned to Beuer
hats. Euery one had his mistresse, and spent his time in courting
Venus; but Mars was shut out at the backe gate. The ancient
Magistrates obseruing this, consulted what should become of that country, which
these men must gouerne after they were dead. Hereupon they conferred with the
wo|men, their daughters, the Ladies: whom they instru|cted to forbeare their
wonted fauours, to despise the fantasticall amorists, and to afford no grace to
them that had no grace in themselues. This they obeyed di|ligently, and wrought
so effectually, that the Gentle|men soone began to spie some difference betwixt
Ef|feminatenes and Noblenes. And at last in honourable and seruiceable designes
excelled all their Ancestors. If we had in England such Ladies, (though I doe
not wish them from Spaine) wee should haue such Lords. Honour should goe by the
Banner, not by the Barue: and Reputation be valued by valour, not
measured by the acre:
there would be no ambition to be carpet-Knights.
How necessarie the readinesse of Armes, and of men practised to those Armes,
hath beene to the com|mon good; what Nation hath not found, either in the habite
to their safetie, or in the priuation to their ruine? Onely we blesse our selues
in our peace; and say to them that aduise vs to militarie preparations, as the
Deuils said to Christ, that we come to torment them before their time. But let
them rest, that thus will rust: and for your selues, worthy Gentlemen, keepe
your Armes bright; and thereby your names, your vertues, your soules: you shall
be honoured in good mens hearts, whilst wanton and effeminate Gulls shall weaue
and weare their owne disgraces. Spernite vos sperni: there are none
that think base|ly of you, whose bosomes are acquainted with other then ignoble
thoughts. But I haue held you too long in the gates, vnlesse I could promise you
the sight of a better Citie. Yet enter in, and view it with your eyes: it hath
alreadie entred your eares; God grant it may enter all our hearts. So your
selues shall be renowned, our Peace secured, and the Lords great Name glorified,
through Iesus Christ.
Yours to be commanded in all Christian
seruices, THO. ADAMS.
(snip)
...Thinke with a reuerend courage of your noble Ancestors, how their prowesse
renowned them|selues and this whole nation. Shew your selues the legitimate and
true borne children of such fathers.
The fame of Alexander gaue heart to Iulius
Caesar, to be the more noble a warriour. Let the conside|ration of their
valour teach you to shake off cowar|dize. They fought the battells, that you
might en|ioy the peace. You holde it an honour to beare Armes in your
Scutchions; and is it a dishonour to beare Armes in the Field? The time hath
beene, when all honour in England came a Marte or Mer|curio;
from Learning or Chiualrie, from the Pen or the Pike, from Priesthood or
Knighthood.
It would bee an vnknowne encouragement to goodnesse, if honour still might
not bee dealed but vpon those termes. Then should manie worthie spirits get vp
the High-gate of preferment: and idle Drones should not come neerer then the
Dunstable high-way of obscuritie. It was a monstrous storie, that
Nicippus his Sheepe did bring forth a Lyon: but it is too true, that
manie of our English Lyons haue brought forth Sheepe. Among birds you shall
neuer see a Pigeon hatch'd in an Eagles neast: a|mong men you shall often see
noble progenitors bring forth ignoble cowards.
But let vertue be renowned, rewarded, wheresoe|uer shee dwells. Though
Bion was the sonne of a Courtesan, I hope no man will censure him with
Partus sequitur ventrem. Non genus sed genius: non gens sed mens. Neuer
speake of thy bloud, but of thy good: not of thy Nobilitie, thou art beholding
to thy friends for it, but of thy vertue. ..
