An epitaphe vpon the death [of] Mayster Iohn Viron preacher

¶ An Epitaphe vpon the death Mayster Iohn Viron Preacher . THou soule whych on Christes brest , doest rest as Iohn loued , And corps whych art lyke hys also , wyth earth enVironed : Full ioyfull mayst thou be , but we ( alas ) may wayle , Thy presence to forgo so soone , thy voyce so soone to fayle . But oh thy payne and toyle , in God thee prayse we shall , That thou ensample now mayst be , vnto thy fellowes all . Whych ceasedst not at morne , at noone , nor yet at nyght , To preache Gods woorde , to beate downe vyce , and to put synne to flyght . Thyne natiue countrye thou , regardedst not a whyt , When God dyd call thee foorth to preache , but out thou wentst wyth it . Whych when in thyne owne toung , thou mightst not preache in Fraunce , Yet foorth thou wentst , and by God led , to vs wast brought by chaunce . Where thou wyth paynefull watche , dydst learne our Englysh tounge , And wyth as paynefull diligence , dydst preache Gods truth among . No Tyraunt , nor fierce lawes , coulde make thee vs forsake : But in the mydst of ragyng stormes , wyth Gods Sayntes part dydst take . And synce thou hast well shewde , whose seruaunt thou hast bene , In preaching and in writyng both , whych to Gods prayse is sene . But now ho shall lament ? or who may ioy now flee ? Euen euery state from top to toe , both hygh and low degree . The poore may wayle hys mysse , whych wyth both tounge and hand , Dyd well refreshe theyr weary state , whych often they in stand . The ryche may mone wyth them , hys barkyng voyce to want , That kept from them that karking beast , whych rychesse dayly haunt . And though hys lyke yet lyue , and many suche there be : Yet shall we mysse hym in our lyfe , and nombers more then he . But oh London , London , thou oughtest chiefe to wayle , The people suche , and vyces great , may at hys want sore quayle . For twyse so many as there be , and myllions lyke to hym , Were not sufficient to draw backe , thy people from theyr synne . But shall I shewe the thankes , whych in thee he hath got ? Oh London , London , Sodome was , not so yll vnto Lot . His paynes deserued prayse , but some in thee hym gaue : Obprobrious woordes , and sclaunders vyle , euen to hys bodyes graue . But what for that they thus , haue vsed hym so yll : Hys vertues were thereby more knowen , in spight of their yll wyll ? And eke theyr lying blastes , are so layde in their face : That they may shame and weepe thereat , if they haue any grace . But now thou flocke and folde , whych he in lyfe dyd guyde : What cause hast thou to wayle hys want , and count thee wo betyde ? Whych hadst a Shepheard good , that dyd hys duty ryght : In sauing Rammes from daunger neare , and helpyng Lambes to myght . From pasture vnto pasture , he dyd thee bryng to feede , And neuer ceased to make thee from fayth to fayth proceede . There restes no more for you , hys paynes now to requite : But so to walke as he you taught , and speake of hym the ryght . And thou O England now , to ende and mone wyth theese : Lament thou mayst also wyth vs , a woorke man thus to leese . Thy haruest is so great , and Laborers so fewe , Yea of those fewe some Loyterers , full yll themselues do shewe . And let vs here by take , a warning to vs all , That seing haruest is so great , and woorkemens nomber small : Our fruit must needes be lost our selues to famishe brought , Our Land layde lyke a wyldernes , and brought at length to nought . But thou O Lorde and God , of this our haruest great , Spare thou our woorkemen , and more send , that labour wil with sweate . That as we mone for Iohn , enVironed by death , Thou wylt vs glad wyth many a Paule , enspirde with heauenly breath . Finis . Quod Iohn Awdelie .