Greenes funeralls. By RB. Gent

Sonnet , I. WHy should my Pen presume to write his praise , And hee in perfect mould of Vertue framde ? Why should my Muse sing of his happie daies , And he the marke , at which Dame Nature framde ? Why rather should I not such vertues show , That such pure golde from drosse each man may know ? But cease my Muse , why dost thou take in hand so great a Taske : Which to performe a greater wit , than Mercuries would aske ? For iudgement Ioue , for Learning deepe , he still Apollo seemde : For floent Tongue , for eloquence , men Mercury him deemde . For curtesie suppose him Guy , or Guyons somewhat lesse : His life and manners though I would , I cannot halfe expresse . Nor Mouth , nor Minde , nor Muse can halfe declare , His Life , his Loue , his Laude , so excellent they were .

Sonnet , II. FOrtune , hates not , them that hate her : Fortune , loues not , them that loue her : Fortune , would , and cannot rate her : Fortune , shall , and must remoue her . And though fickle Fortune smile : It is but for a little while . Greene loude Fortune foolish Man , Foolish man , why loude he so ? And her foolish race he ran , Foolish race that s run with wee . Who then ( Alas ) was lesse misused ? Now ( Alas ) is more abused ? But let Fowles and foolish fellowes , Barke and byte their belly fill : It is not spightfull Enuies bellowes , That can kindle fire still . No Booke pleases all that come ▪ None so bad but pleases some .

Sonnet . III. YEE dainty Damsels of Dianes Traine , That long to dally , with your loued Lords : And you braue Gallant , high resolued Lords . That loue to gaze , vpon your stately Starrs . He he is dead , that kild you with disdaine : And often fedde your friendy hopes againe . He he is dead , that wrote of your delights : That wrote of Ladies , and of Parramours : Of budding beautie , and hir branched leaues , Of sweet content in royall Nuptialls . He he is dead , that kild you with disdaine : And often fed your friendly hopes againe . His gadding Muse , although it ran of loue , Yet did hee sweetly morralize , his songs : Ne euer gaue the looser cause to laugh , Ne men of Iudgment , for to be offended . But as he often kild them with disdaine : So did he often feede their hopes againe . And though he often told of things to come , In loue more like a Prophet than a Poet : Yet did he wisely interlace the one , With Sages sayings , euer mixt among . And though he often fedde their pleasing paine : Yet did he often kill them with disdaine . Wherefore yee dainty Damsels of renowne , That long to dallie , with your loued Lords . And you braue Gallant , worthy noble Lords , That loue to dandle in your Ladies lapps . Come hither come , and lend your mouths to Fame : That meanes to sound , his neuer dying name .

Sonnet , IIII. COme from the Muses well Minerua , Come and bring a Coronet : To crowne his head , that doth deserue , A greater gift than Colinet . Come from Bacchus bowre Silenus , Come and bring some good-ale grout : For to sprinckle Vino-plenus : All his foolish face about . Come thou hither sweete Amyntas All on a siluer sounding Swanne : Come and teach this fond A-mint-Asse , Leaue the game as hee began . Come thou hither my friend so pretty , All riding on a Hobby-Horse : Either make thy selfe more witty : Or againe renew thy force : Come and decke his browes with baies , That deserues immortall praise .

Sonnet . V. AMend thy stile who can : who can amend thy stile ? For sweet conceit . Alas the while , That euer any such , as thou shouldst die , By fortunes guile , Amids thy meate . Pardon ( Oh pardon ) me that cannot shew , My zealous loue . Yet shalt thou proue , That I will euer write in thy behoue : Gainst any dare , With thee compare . An 't is not Hodge-poke nor his fellow deare , That I doe feare : As shall appeare . But him alone that is the Muses owne , And eke my friend , Whome to the end , My muse must euer honor and adore : Doe what I can . To praise the man , It is impossible for me that am , So far behinde . Yet is my minde , As forward as the best , if wit so would With will agree . But since I see , It will not bee : I am content , my folly to confesse : And pardon craue . Which if I haue , My Fortunes greater than my former fall : I must confesse . But if he otherwise esteeme of me , Than as a friend or one that honors thee : Then is my labor lost , my care consumde . Because I hate the hope , that so presumde

Sonnet , VI. OF Tel-tales tell my muse , of such as loue to lie : Of such as vse , for to abuse , their friends and no cause why . Of such and none but such , My pen shall write his pleasure : And them at large I meane to tuch , When I haue time and leasure . My rime is rude , what then ? Yet will it serue the turne : To notefie such wicked men , As doe deserue to burne . As doe deserue to burne said I ? Nay worse : that ought to feele , The raging force and crueltie : Of old Ixions wheele . But least I should this mourning Muse retaine : I le fall into an other kinde of vaine .

Sonnet , VII . Though perchance it seeme to some but a toy and a trifle , Seeme to some in vaine , to bestowe but a part of an houre , In penning Poemes : in hon'ring him with a Poeme . Yet I appeale to the pen of pierelesse Poet Amyntas , Matchles Amintas minde , to the minde of Matchles Amintas Sweete bonny Phillis loue , to the loue of sweete bonny Phillis , Whether pen , or minde , or loue , of Phillis Amintas Loue , or minde , or pen , of pen-loue-minder Amintas : Thinke of him ( perhaps ) as some doe thinke of Amintas : Oh that I might be loude , of Phillis louer : Amintas . Oh that I might be thought , as I thinke of Phillis : Amintas . Oh that I might be iudgde as I iudge of Phillis : Amintas : Then would I neuer care for such base beggarly make-bookes That in ueigh against the dead , like deadly maligners . What if he were a man , as bad or worse than a Hel-hound ? As shall I thinke that he was a bad or worse than a Hel-hound ? Yet it ill became sweete mindes to haunt in Auernus : Ill became such Cutes , to barke at a poore silly carcas Some had cause to mone , and mourne , & murmur against him : Others none at all , yet none at all , so against him . For my selfe I wish , that none had written against him But such men which had iust cause t' haue written against him .

Sonnet , VIII . MVse giue place to my mone , and mone giue place to my musing One for an others cause , and one for cause of an other . First to behold him dead : last to behold him aliue . And thou Shepheards Swaine , that keepes thy sheepe by the mountains , ( Mountaines ) of Sicily , and sweet Arcadian Iland , Oh Meliboeus : leaue , Oh leaue any more to be mourning . For though his Art bee dead , yet shall it euer abide : Euer abide , to the end light , as a light to the rest . Rest that haue wrot of loue : and the del●ghts of a louer . But by the sweete consent , of Pan and Marsias ofspringe . Sweet consent of a Saint so sweet , of a Fowle an a foule one Greenes but a foolish man : and such as him d●e defend . Yet will I euer write both to defend and offend : For to defend his friends , and to offend his foes .

Sonnet , IX . GReene , is the pleasing Obiect of an eie : Greene , pleasde the eies of all that lookt vppon him . Greene , is the ground of euerie Painters die : Greene , gaue the ground , to all that wrote vpon him . Nay more the men , that so Eclipst his fame : Purloynde his Plumes , can they deny the same ? Ah could my Muse , old Maltaes Poet passe , ( If any Muse could passe , old Maltaes Poet , ) Then should his name be set in shining brasse , In shining brasse for all the world to show it . That little children , not as yet begotten Might royallize his fame when he is rotten . But since my Muse begins to vaile hir wings , And flutter low vpon the lowly Earth : As one that sugred Sonnets , seldome singes , Except the sound of sadnes , more than mirth , To tell the worth of such a worthy man : I le leaue it vnto those , that better can . Now may thy soule againe , goe take his rest ( His pleasant rest ) in those eternall ioyes Where burning Tapers , still attend the blest To light , and lighten them from all annoyes . Goe then poore Poet , liue and neuer die : Euer , yet neuer but in miserie . And as I came into the world vnknowne , Moude with compassion , of thy piteous plaint : So will I now againe , my selfe goe mone , That durst presume , thy praise in verse to paint . And if the Muses pardon , mine so weake : I passe not of a pin , what others speake .

Sonnet , X. A Catalogue of certaine of his Bookes . CAmilla for the first and second part . The Card of Fancie , and his Tullies loue . His Nunquam Sera , and his Nightingale . His Spanish Masquerado , and his Change . His Menaphon , and Metamorphosis . His Orpharion , and the Denmarke King . His Censure , and his Loues Tritameron . His Disputation , and the Death of him , That makes all England shed so many teares : And many more that I haue neuer seene May witnes well vnto the world his wit , Had he so well , as well applied it .

Sonnet , XI . WHen my loathed life , had lost the light of Olimpus , And descended downe , to the cursed caues of Auernus , Neuer more had I thought , of men to be inlie molested , But now alas , I see my hope is vaine : My pleasure turned , to eternall paine . For such foolish men , as I had neuer abused : Neuer abused alas , yet alas , had euer abused : Euer abused so , because so neuer abused . Not onely seeke to quench my kindled glorie , But also for to marre my vertues storie . And though my life were lewd , Oh how it grieues me to thinke it . Lewd as a life might be , from all good counsell abandond : And giuen ouer vp , to the out cast sense of a sinner . Yet might my end , haue moud them to remorce : And not to reake their teene , on sillie corse .

Sonnet , XII . Father of Heauen , for thy mercies meekenes , And thy sweete Sonnes sake , Christ the redeemer , Pardon , Oh pardon , sinfull offender , Lord I beseech him . And though his age , here on earth were a loathsome Pudddle offilthynes , inly poluted , With all abuse , that can be deuised , Yet was his ending ; Ending a myrrour , of a man molested , One ouer-whelmed with his iniquities , And to be holpen alone by the Iesus Sauiour of all men .

Sonnet , XIII . A sweete Praier to the Trinitie by R. S and vsed of R.G. at the instant of his death . TRinity blessed , Deitie coequall , Vnitie sacred , God one eke in essence , Yeeld to thy seruant pittifully calling Mercifull hearing . Vertuous liuing , did I long relinguish , Thy will and precpts miserably scorning , Graunt to me , sinfull patient , repenting , Healthfull amendment . Blessed I iudge him , that in heart is healed , Cursed I know him , that in health is harmed . Thy Phisicke therefore to me , wretch vnhappie , Send my Redeemer . Glorie to God the Father , and his onelie Sonne , The Protector of vs Earthie sinners Thy sacred Spirit , laborours refreshing , Still be renowmed . Amen .

Sonnet , XIIII . An other Poeme , borrowed of the same learned Gentleman R.S.R.G. speaketh . LOrd , my dryrie foes , why doe they mutltiply ? Me for to ruinate , sundry be couetous . Him shildes not the Godhead , sundry say to my Soule . Th' art Lord most vigilant , wholy my succorer , And in thee all my stayinge , shall be harboured : Th' art my most valiant victorie glorious . To our Lord lowd I cried : from holy place heard he me . In graue new buried , scarce haue I slumbred : I rose to life againe , through God his holines . I feare not furious multitude , infinite , With compasse labouring , my body for to catch . Rise Lord omnipotent , helpe me , my champion , Lord , thy deare radiant , righteous equitie , Hath squisde all my foes , falsely me ransaking . Our Lord participiates , safetie with happines : With gifts , heauenly Godhead , thy people amply blesse . Amen .

FINIS .