Great Brittaines sunnes-set, bewailed with a shower of teares. By William Basse

A Soule ore-laden with a greater Summe Of ponderous sorrow then she can sustaine , ( Like a distressed sayle that labours home ) Some obiect seekes , wh●eto she may complaine . Not that ( poore soule ) hir obiect can draw from Hir groaning breast th' occasion of hir paine : But over charg'd with Teares shee ( widow-like ) bestowes Vpon hir best friends eares , some children of her woes . Not ( like as when some triviall discontents First taught my raw and lucklesse youth to rue ) Doe I to Flockes now vtter my laments , Not choose a tree , or streame , to mourne vnto : My waightier sorrow now ( Deare Sir ) present These her afflicted features to your view . Whose free and noble mind ( were not this griefe your owne Would to my plaints be kind , if I complain'd alone . But such true arguments of inward woe In your sad face , I lately haue beheld , As if your teares ( like floods that overflowe Their liquid shores ) alone , would haue excell'd This generall Deluge of our eies , that so Sea-like our earth-like cheekes hath over-swell'd : As if your heart would send forth greatest lamentation , Or striue to comprehend our vniversall passion . And as th' occasion ( Sir ) may iustly moue To maid-like sorrow the most man-like heart : So may your griefe ( to your beholders ) proue The iustice of His grace , and your desart . For teares and sighs are th' issues of true loue : Our present woes our former ioies imparte . He loues the living best , who for the dead mournes most : He merits not the rest , who not laments the lost . To you I therefore weepe : To you alone I shew the image of your teares in mine ; That mine ( by shewing your teares ) may be show'n To be like yours , so faithfull so divine ▪ Such , as more make the publique woe their owne , Then their woe publique ▪ such as not confine These 〈◊〉 to rimes ▪ not yet forms from examples borrow ▪ Where losse is in 〈…〉 , there boundlesse is the sorrow . O let v● ( Muse ) this heavynesse ( that no Iust heart , vncleft , at one time can sustaine ) By fittes , and preparations vndergoe : Let 's feare , let 's hope ▪ tremble ; and hope againe . O ▪ let vs this dysastrous truth ne're know ; But rather deafe and stupefied remaine : For happier much it were , the hearing sence to loose , Then loose all sence to heare such an vnhappy newes . Like to a changeling ( in his sleepes ) become Rob'd of his sexe , by some prodigious cause ; I am turn'd woman : watrish feares benube My Heate : my Masculine existence thawes To teares , wherein I could againe entombe His tombe , or penetrate hir marble iawes : But , O , why should I twice entombe him ! O what folly Were it to pierce ( with sighes ) a monument so holy ! Here then run forth thou River of my woes . In cease lesse currents of complaining verse : Here weepe ( young Muse ) while older pens compose More solemne Rites vnto his sacred Hearse . And , as when happy earth did here , enclose His heav'nly minde , his Fame then Heav'n did pierce : Now He in Heav'n doth rest ▪ now let his Fame catch fill ; So , both him then posses'd ▪ so both possesse him still . Or , like a Nymph distracted or vndone With blubber'd face , hands wrong , neglected haire , Run through moist Valleys , through wide deserts run Let speech-lesse Eccho eccho thy dispaire . Declare th' vntimely Set of Brittaines Sun To sorrowing Shepheards : To sad Nymphes declare That such a night of woes , his Occident doth follow That Day in darknes clothes , and mourner makes Apollo . But of his partes thinke not t' expresse the least Whom Nature did the best in all things forme . First , borne a Prince ( next to his FATHER ) best ; Then , Fram'd a Man , to be , as he was borne : Beauty his youth beyond all others blest , Vertues did him beyond his youth adorne . What Muse , what voice , what pen , can give thee all thy duties O Prince of Princes , me : youth , wisdom , deeds , & beauties . Fates , that so soone beheld his Fame enrould , Put to his golden thred their envious sheeres : Death fear'd his magnanimitie to behold , And ( in his sleepe ) basely reveng'd hir feares . Time , looking on his wisdom , thought him old , And laid his rash Sythe to his Primest yeares . Stars that ( in loue ) did long t' embrace so faire a myrrhour Wink'd at Fates envious wrong , Death's treason & Times errour . O Fates , O Time , O Death , ( But you must all Act the dread will of your Immortall GVIDE ) O Fates , How much more life did you appaule , When you his liuely texture did divide ? O Time , when by thy sythe this Flow'r did fall . How many thousands did'st thou wound beside ? O Death , how many deathes , is of that life compacted , That from all living breathes , his only death extracted . How many braue Deedes ha's the wounded wombe Of Hope , mis-carryed now , before their time ? How many high designes haue seene their doome Before their birth , Or perish'd in their Prime ? How many beauties drown'd are in his tombe ? How many glories , with him , heavn's do clime ? How many sad cheekes mourne , Him laid in Earth to see As they to earth would runne , his Sepulcher to be . Like a high Pyramis , in all his towers Finish'd this morning , and laid prostrate soone ; Like as if Nighte's blacke and incestuous howers Should force Apollo's beauty before Noone : Like as some strange change in the heav'nly powers Should in hir Full quench the refulgent Moone : So HE his daies , his light , and his life ( here ) expir'd New built most ( Sū-like ) bright Ful Man , & most admir'd But HEAV'NS , Disposers of all Life and Death , That our pied pride , and wretched liues mislike , Tooke HIM that 's gone ( from vs ) to better breath Vs that remaine , with ( death from him ) to strike . His flower-like youth here , there more flourisheth , His graces then , are now more Angel-like . Those glories that in Him , so shone , now shine much more Our glories now are dim , that shin'd in him before . And thou faire I le , whose three-fold beauties face Enchants the Three-fork'd Scepter of thy Lover , That with thine owne eies drown'st thy lap , the place That his enamour'd armes and streames would cover : Make true and two-fold vse of griefe , That grace May with affliction now , it selfe discouer . These teares thou dost begin , to shed for HENRYES sake . Continue for thy sinne , which made Heau'n Henry take . That thy iust Iames , who hither to hath sway'd Thy Scepter Many-fold , and ample Frame , Many more ages , yet , may liue obay'd T' enlarge thy glories , and to yeeld the same Divine examples vnto CHARLES that made HENRY so noble , and so great in Fame . For who but such a King , as He , can such another In place of Henry bring ? who match him but a BROTHER . And neighbour Lands to whome our moanes we lent May to our greater losse now lend vs theirs . Florence his old Duke mourn'd but we lament A greater then a Duke in flowring yeares . Spaine for a Queene hir eies sad moisture spent : We for a Prince ( and for a Man ) shed teares . But France whose cheek's still wet , nearest our griefe hath smarted ; For she from Henry Great ; wee from Great Henry parted . And thus , As I haue seene an even , showre , ( When Phoebus to Ioues other splendent heyres Bequeath'd the Day ) downe from Olympus powre . When Earth in teares of Trees , and Trees in teares Of Mountaines wade . Like some neglected flowre ( Whose sorrow is scarce visible with theirs ) Downe to my silent brest my hidden face I bow : My Phoebus in his Rest , hath hid his heav'nly brow . FINIS .