Great Britaine, all in blacke for the incomparable losse of Henry, our late worthy prince / by John Taylor.

GREAT Britaine , all in Blacke .

FOR The incomparable losse of HENRY , our late worthy Prince .

By Iohn Taylor .

LONDON Printed by E.A. for I. Wright dwelling in Newgate Market , neere vnto Christs Church gate . 1612.

HENRICVS PRINCEPS

SEe here the portraite of that matcheles wight Whose valour paralel'd the God of fight : At Tilt , at Barriers , both with sword and speare He made his hopefull prowesse oft apeare : His shadow 's here , the world his substance misses That was this Isles Achilles and Vlisses . His soul 's inthroan'd aboue Heauen 's spangled frame , And earth 's adorn'd with his resounding fame .

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL AND MY MVCH ENDEERED FRIEND Sir Robert Dowglasse Knight . TO thee I consecrate these mourning lines Of Royall Henries sad vntimely hearse , For want of whom this Kingdom weeps & pines , With sighs and grones and eye-bedewing verse : I know his losse thy manly heart did pearce , And mongst thy woes , this woe exceeds the worst : I know thou rather had'st ( death's Iaueline fierce ) To saue his life , thy loyall heart had burst . But t is our fortunes and our fates accurst , Amid'st these daies of sorrow to suruiue ; And lifes vnpermanent all trustles trust Is fled from him who kept our hopes aliue : But let sweet patience subiugate your sorrow A heauy eu'ning brings a ioyfull morrow . Your Worships euer most obseqiuous . Iohn Taylor .

GREAT Britaine all in Blacke . NOt any Poets all-reuiuing pen Can write vnparalel'd Prince Henries praise : Nor can their Muses call him backe againe : Whose liuing vertues shine ( like Titans raies ) Had I a quill of that Arabian wing That 's hatcht in embers of Sun-kindled fire , Who to her selfe her selfe doth issue bring , And three in one , is Young , and Dam , and Sire . Oh that I could to Virgills veine aspire , Or Homers Verse , that golden languag'd Greeke , In polish'd Phrases I my lines would tire Into the depth of Art my Muse would seeke . Meane time she mongst the linguist Poets throngs , Although she want the help of Forraigne Tongs . To King IAMES . Since such great praise is due vnto the Frute , There 's greater laude belongs vnto the Tree : Then in thy Glory how can men be mute That knowes such Glorious Branches sprung from thee ? For if such honour to the Fruit we owe The Tree deserues more whence this Fruit did growe . To Queene ANNE . Thou fruitfull Vine , thou blessed-bearing Queene , From whome these Oliue Branches sprouts and springs ; Thou that by Heauen so Royaliz'd hast beene , To be Childe , Sister , and a Wife , to Kings : Long maist thou liue , that all the World may know Thou art the Stock whence Maiesty doth grow . To Prince CHARLES . Great Sonne of Greatnesse I the Heauens implore That heere thou maist haue long , and happy daies , That ere aboue the Skies thy Soule shall sore Thou maist atchiue thy famous Brothers praise , And when mongst Saints thy Father takes his seat , God make thee then great Britaines Charles the Great . To the Princesse ELIZABETH . Thou whome this Ile , and Nations neere and farre Admires for Angell-forme , and Saint-like minde , Whose Vertues shine as doth a fixed Starre , From Thames vnto the farthest part of Inde . All Heauenly blessings raine on thee on Earth , And make thy fortunes Great as is thy Birth . To the Count PALATINE . Most mighty , all-beloued louely Lord , Warrs patterne , and a Patrone vnto Schollers : Great Brittaine doth a Iewell thee afford , More rich in price then all the Germane Dollers , Liue euer happy with thy ioyfull Gem In Earth , and in the new Ierusalem . TO GOD . Last vnto thee that art both First and Last , For his deere sake that conquer'd Death , and Hell , I doe beseech thee headlong downe to cast All Traytors 'gainst these Princes that rebell : Blott from thy Booke of life their impious Names That seeke subuersion of Monarking Iames. AEquinoques on the deceased Prince HENRIE . To write Great Britaines woe how am I able ? That hauing lost a peerelesse Princely Sonne , So wise , so graue , so stout , so amiable , Whose Vertues shin'd as did the mid daies Sunne , And did illustrate all our Hemispheare , Now all the world affoords not him his pheare . His Royall minde was euermore disposd , From vertue vnto vertue to accrue : On good deserts his bounty he disposde , Which made him follow'd by so braue a crue , That though himselfe was peerelesse , many a Peere , As his Attendants , daily did appeere . In him the Thundrers braine-borne daughter Pallas Had tane possession , as her natiue Clime : In him , and his terrestriall heau'nly Pallace Was taught how men by vertuous deeds shall clime , So that although his yeeres were in their spring He was true honors fount and vallors spring . So firme , so stable , and so continent So wise , so valiant , and so truely chaste : That from his Microcosmos continent , All Heau'n abhorred hell-hatch'd lust was chac'd : He ran no vicious-vice-alluring race , To staine the glory of his Royall race . His soule from whence it came is gone againe , And earth hath tane , what did to earth belong : He whilome to this land was such a gaine , That mem'ry of his losse must needs be long . All states and sexes both the young and graue Laments his timeles going to his graue . Man murdring death , blind , cruell fierce and fell , How durst thou gripe him in thy meagre armes ? By thy rude stroake this Prince of Princes fell , Whose valour brau'd the mighty God of Armes : Right well in peace , he could of peace debate , Dreadles of dreadfull danger or debate . Robustious rawboand monster death , to teare From vs our happy hope we did enioy : And turne our many Ioyes to many a teare , Who else might ioyfully haue liu'd in ioy : As wind on thousands all at once doth blow , By his deaths stroake so millions feeles the blow . Well could I wish , ( but wishing is in vaine ) That many millions , and amongst them I Had sluc'd the bloods from euery flowing veine , And vented floods of water from each eye : T' haue sau'd the life of this Maiesticke heire , Would thousand soules had wandred in the ayre . But cease my Muse , thou farre vnworthy art To name his name , whose praise on high doth mount : Leaue , ( leaue I say ) this taske to men of Art , And let his soule rest in sweet Sions Mount . His Angell spright hath bid the world adue And earth hath claim'd his body as a due . Epitaphe . Heere under ground great HENRIES corps doth lye , If God were pleas'd , I would it were a lye . Iohn Taylor

GREAT BRITAINES GREATEST WOE . OR AN Elegeicall Lamenting Poem , for the incomparable Losse of losses , of HENRIE our late hopefull PRINCE . SIghs , grones , and teares , assist my Muse to mourne His death , whose life all vertue did adorne : Whose aged wisedome , and whose youthfull age Was second vnto none , that 's wise or sage : So old in sapience , so young , so graue , To be transfer'd vnto his timelesse graue . Melpomene ( thou sad'st among the Muses ) Possesse my soule , and make mine eyes like sluces , ( Or like the restles torrents of the Thames ) To gush forth flouds of neuer-ending streames For this magnanimous heroicke Prince . Let euery one their mournefull faces rince , With brinish teares and bitter lamentation , And drowne their visage with the inundation . Let sighs , and grones , and teares this I le o're-flow , And ouer-whelme our hearts with flouds of woe : Let scalding sobs of this lamenting land , Raise stormes and tempests , vniuersall , and In this confusion make the world to droope , And highest hearted honor'd minds to stoope , And with deploring languor , hang the head , For losse of him that liues , and yet is dead . Let Britaines gronings , drowne Oake-cleauing thunder And fill the vaulty ayre with feare and wonder ; For hee that was the worlds admired Lampe , The life of Peace , of War , of Court , of Campe , Th' expected hope of blest ensuing time , Fell in his spring , and dide in golden prime . Thou happy I le , ordain'd to haplesse crosse , Thou neuer canst enough lament his losse : Thy hopes , and haps , were neuer lesse , nor more , A better good , or worser ill before , ( Then was the life or death of this deere Lord ) No memory , nor story doth record . Black valiant Edward that war-breathing Prince , Whose proued prowes did all France conuince , And in the iawes of death his foes did quell , Our Henry would haue beene his paralell . Ioue , Mars , and sweet Adonis were combinde In Henries forme , his force , and Royall minde . But now deaths Cloud eclips'd great Britaines Sunne , His rayes extinct , our springing hopes are done . Yee Esculapian Doctors , now giue ouer , Honour is dead , and neuer will recouer : Your Simples are but simple , and your drugges Are weake , when life and death for mastrie tugges : Despight your Antidotes and stone of Bezar , Death kills the Catife and the mighty Keisar . Your Vomits , Cordials , Euacuations , Your Bathes and your humidious Fomentations , Are forcelesse opposites , 'gainst greifly death , And all vnualued , in exchange of breath . But pardon me ( you famous men of Art ) I le not impeache your high esteem'd desart , Who are ordain'd by God to keepe mens liues In health and vigor with preseruatiues . We ought to honour the Phisition still , And hold in reuerence his admired skill . But yet if you by wit , by Art , or Nature Had had preseruing power to saue a creature , You should haue shew'd it in his preseruation , Who was the life and soule of this sad Nation . But ther 's no power externall nor internall , That can resist his will that is Supernall , Who rules and raignes , aboue the azur'd skies , And all things sees with his all-searching eyes : From his omnipotent Maiesticke Seate He saw the sinne of man was growne so great , That he audaciously dares spurne 'gainst Heau'n , And therefore from vs hath this Prince bereau'n : Depriuing him of a Terrestriall Throne , Exchanging it for an Immortall one : Where Kings , and Princes , Saints , and Martyrs sings Continuall Anthemes to the King of Kings . Thus God ( accounting him too good for Earth ) Hath giuen his Soule a glorious second birth : And as his state and vertues heere were great , Hee 's greater now , in his triumphant Seat : In that blest Kingdome of eternall rest , Where he for euer liues among the blest . Great Brittaine , thinke not but Almighty God Doth threaten Vengeance , with his awfull Rod : And that from vs this Prince he hath bereft , Before he drawes his sinne-consuming Shaft . He takes the good to his great Mercies dome , And leaues the wicked till his vengeance come . BVt all our hopes are yet not in dispaire ; For though the heau'ns containe great Britaines heire ( As knowing Earth vnworthy such a gemme ) Yet are there branches of that Royall stemme , That till the consummation of all things , I hope shall be this Ilands Queenes and Kings , In true succession alwaies to perseuer , To Rule and raigne for euer , and for euer , Not onely heere , ( where pompe is transitory ) But in the heauens in neuer ending glory . Vnto which praier , with heart , with tongue , and pen , Let all that loue saluation , say Amen . FINIS . Iohn Taylor .

Epitaph . LIu's there a heart that could not riue in sunder , To see what all-deuouring Death hath donne Vnto that lou'ly Maiesties Great Sonne , Whose stately Corpes lies heere enclosed vnder . His fame that whilom like Iehouahs Thunder , Was mounted on the Aires all-filling Winde Agreeing well with his Heroick minde , Who Comet-like made all the world to wonder . Lo what Grim Death vntimely hath destroid : Curst be the Planet gouern'd at his Birth Who ( Traitor-like ) conspir'd to rob the earth Of such a hope as neuer men enioy'd . O could our teares , or bloods recall this doome , Millions would wash thee from thy Marble Toome . Ri : Leigh .

Lament. Heu , heu , mortuis Lachrymae non prosunt .

To the publique Reader .

IN hast , thus , I now confesse these following Poemes were of my making : but I was condemn'd to be prest , before I would confesse . They are few : ( I would there had beene none ) the good subiect too soone offered the ill occasion . ( Heauens pleasure still put before ) Had I determined them for publique view , there had bene more , but being so little , I hope it cannot offend much : 't is more healthfull to rise vnsated then too much gorg'd , especially , at a funerall banquet . I professe diuinitie , but no teacher , therefore I write not diuinely : the florishes of high stil'd Poesie I likewise hold vnfit for so familiar a Christian subiect , therfore I forsake that onely in a smooth and low-bred method I haue couch't these few verses ( in mine own iudgement most proper , ) if it be not so , iudge you otherwise : they are vnpolish'd & I haue no time to correct them : read them the more distinctly , & that will somewhat better them ; how euer , take them . If they dislike thee , I much care not , since they haue in priuate pleas'd some good ones : and ther 's one whisper'd euen now in mine eare , and told me , Male opinentur de te homines , sed mali .

William Rowley .

To Prince CHARLES . PArdon ( dread Prince ) that I omit thy praise Amongst these driery , sad , and funerall layes : In stead of praise I 'le pray ; stand noble Stem Successor to a foure-fold Diadem . And may the Chronicle of thy great Name Triple old Nestor : take thy Brothers Fame , His Honors , titles , Vertues , and renowne , And multiplie their lustre with thine owne : 'Boue all take this ; may thy Age neuer see An Epicedion insculp't for thee . When e're thou front thy foes , let thy Fate runne In Caesars line , that neuer fought but wonne : Inherit all his glories , ( not his fall ) Heauen shield thee from the Romane Capitall . Whilst I haue breath , thus shall my duty sing , Be long a Prince before thou be a King : But being thron'd , thy Raigne haue ending neuer , Long Crown'd with Gold , & then with Stars for euer .

To Griefe . GRiefe giue me leaue now to dis-bosome thee , Since all in vaine I keepe thee in my brest , Let some in smokie sighes condensed bee And with the winds be hurried in vnrest : But then diuide that part in moisture lyes , Let halfe fall from my pen , halfe from mine eyes .

To Life . WHy didst thou leaue a house , so faire , so sweet ? Earth has no more such earth to lodge thee in , Such a Tent Royall , such a Royall seat , As if thou neuer should'st haue weary bin . Shall I say ( life ) vnkind to leaue vs so ? O hadst thou stay'd , but to be bidden goe ! If honour could haue won thee , thou wert right ; If youth , thou had'st a louely mansion ; If Beauty , mixture of the Roses might , That kept all Britaine in an vnion . Could none of this ? pardon , I had forgot , Thou flie'st to Heauen , 'cause we deseru'd thee not .

To Death : THou great Monopolist , that all the world Engrosest to thy selfe , wilt thou spare none ? Shall still thy mortall Iauelings forth be hurld With careles flight ? a million for one Thou might'st haue had : but ( Tyrant ) thou didst know To wound foure Kingdomes , at one deadly blow . Thou might'st haue had a sacrifice of teares , To stay thy cruell dart , the blow to breake : So many Seas , to buy so many yeares When sicknes first did thy first sommons speake : O when that fearefull blaze gan first to flye , I knew a loyall subiect by his eye .

To Death . Foe to thy selfe ( rash foole ) had hee liu'd still , Thou might'st haue march't with him into the field , And by his Royall side sated thy fill , ( Gods foes , and his , falling before his shield ) And being done , with triumphes in thy sting : Thou hast depos'd a Prince , to crowne him King .

To the Graue . VNclaspe thy wombe , thou mortuary shrine , And take the worst part of the best we had , Thou hast no harborage for things diuine , That thou had'st any part was ( yet ) too bad . Graues , for the graue , are fit , vnfit for thee Was our sweet branche of youthfull Royalty . Thou must restore each Atom backe againe When that day comes , that stands beyond all night , His fame ( meane while ) shall here on earth remaine : Loe thus we haue diuided our delight . Heau'n keepes his spirit stel'd amongst the Iust , We keepe his memory , and thou his dust .

An Epitaph . DId he dye young ? oh no , it could not be , For I know few that liu'd so long but he , Till God and all men lou'd him : then be bold ; That man that liues so long , must needs be old .

To N●●●●●● IN Brazen records shall thy Fift day stand , Bad Scholler was the sixt , to learne to spill What once the Fift had sau'd , yet heauens command , Both wrought , one good , the other ( we say ) ill . When life had six daies labor'd in his brest : He kept his Saboth and lay downe and rest .

To S. Iamses . STand like the ruynes of old Ilion , Loose thy canoniz'd name in our complaint , Be no more Iames : for wee 'l adore but one , Who long must be a King , at length a Saint . Be now cal'd nothing , but a heape of stone , Thy good name 's lost , for why thy Saint is gone .

To the King . THou Royall Tree from whence the Roses spring , Vnder thy shades may Britaine euer sing : Right great and good , shew now thy Royall might , Though thy top branche be lop't , still grow vpright : Vnder thy greefe Britiane lyes sicke in paine , But when thou ioy'st , they 'l all sit vp againe .

FINIS .