







 
   
     
       
         An elegie upon the death of the right Honourable & most renowned, Robert Devereux Earle of Essex and Ewe, Viscount Hereford, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, Bourchier Lovaine, late Generall of the Forces of the Parliament of England, who deceased the 14. of September, 1646.
         Rowland, William.
      
       
         This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A92027 of text R210643 in the  English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.10[97]). Textual changes  and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more  computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life.  The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with  MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish.  This text has not been fully proofread 
       Approx. 7 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image.
       
         EarlyPrint Project
         Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO
         2017
         A92027
         Wing R2073
         Thomason 669.f.10[97]
         ESTC R210643
         99869421
         99869421
         162630
         
           
            This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of
             Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal
            . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.
          
        
      
       
         Early English books online.
      
       
         (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A92027)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 162630)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 246:669f10[97])
      
       
         
           
             An elegie upon the death of the right Honourable & most renowned, Robert Devereux Earle of Essex and Ewe, Viscount Hereford, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, Bourchier Lovaine, late Generall of the Forces of the Parliament of England, who deceased the 14. of September, 1646.
             Rowland, William.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill.
           
             Printed by R. Austin,
             London :
             1646.
          
           
             In verse.
             Annotation on Thomason copy: "Octob: 23.".
             Reproduction of the original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Essex, Robert Devereux, -- Earl of, 1591-1646 -- Poetry.
           Elegiac poetry, English.
           Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800.
        
      
    
       A92027  R210643  (Thomason 669.f.10[97]).  civilwar no An elegie upon the death of the right Honourable & most renowned, Robert Devereux, Earle of Essex and Ewe, Viscount Hereford, Lord Ferrers o Rowland, William 1646    1129 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text  has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription.  
        2007-07 TCP
        Assigned for keying and markup
      
        2007-07 Aptara
        Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images
      
        2007-08 Mona Logarbo
        Sampled and proofread
      
        2007-08 Mona Logarbo
        Text and markup reviewed and edited
      
        2008-02 pfs
        Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
      
    
  
   
     
       
       
         
           An
           Elegie
           upon
           the
           death
           of
           the
           right
           Honourable
           &
           most
           renowned
           ,
           
             ROBERT
             DEVEREVX
             ,
          
           Earle
           of
           
             ESSEX
          
           and
           
             Ewe
             ,
          
           Viscount
           
             Hereford
             ,
          
           Lord
           
             Ferrers
             of
             Chartley
             ,
          
           
             Bourchier
          
           and
           
             Lovaine
             ,
          
           late
           GENERALL
           of
           the
           Forces
           of
           the
           PARLIAMENT
           of
           
             England
             ,
          
           who
           deceased
           the
           14.
           of
           
             September
             ,
          
           1646.
           
        
         
           CAn
           Englands
           noble
           Champion
           [
           ESSEX
           ]
           die
           ?
        
         
           That
           kept
           us
           safe
           from
           hostile
           Tyrannie
           )
        
         
           Can
           he
           (
           I
           say
           )
           from
           us
           to
           's
           dust
           depart
           ,
        
         
           (
           Ne're
           to
           returne
           )
           and
           we
           not
           lay
           't
           to
           heart
           ?
        
         
           Can
           we
           (
           whose
           
             Shield
          
           he
           was
           )
           not
           sensibly
        
         
           Bewaile
           our
           losse
           of
           him
           with
           weeping
           eye
           ?
        
         
           O
           Heavens
           forbid
           !
           unworthy
           Nation
           we
           ,
        
         
           Should
           we
           of
           his
           great
           worth
           unmindfull
           be
           .
        
         
           Though
           he
           's
           extinct
           ,
           yet
           let
           Posterity
        
         
           Keep
           up
           his
           name
           ,
           that
           did
           (
           our
           Liberty
        
         
           Safely
           for
           us
           and
           them
           to
           keep
           )
           expose
        
         
           Himselfe
           ,
           unsafely
           ,
           to
           the
           rage
           of
           Foes
           .
        
         
           He
           prick'd
           the
           timpany
           of
           their
           great
           pride
           ,
        
         
           Teaching
           refluxes
           to
           the
           flowing-tide
        
         
           Of
           those
           that
           fought
           so
           for
           Prerogative
           ;
        
         
           Therefore
           ,
           (
           though
           He
           be
           dead
           )
           His
           Name
           will
           live
           .
        
         
           He
           first
           did
           lay
           our
           present
           
             Strengths
          
           foundation
           ,
        
         
           (
           Which
           prospers
           well
           )
           t'
           unslave
           our
           British
           Nation
           ,
        
         
           And
           oft
           did
           hazard
           's
           life
           in
           bloody
           fight
           ,
        
         
           Yet
           knew
           no
           quarrell
           but
           the
           publike
           right
           ,
        
         
           For
           which
           he
           forc't
           Foes
           fortitude
           to
           flight
           :
        
         
           Therefore
           we
           grieve
           his
           Obsequie
           to
           write
           .
        
         
           He
           that
           the
           Victor
           was
           ,
           is
           now
           the
           Prize
           :
        
         
           For
           he
           which
           gat
           us
           many
           Victories
           ,
        
         
           Is
           vanquished
           himselfe
           ,
           and
           forc't
           to
           lye
        
         
           At
           feet
           of
           death
           ,
           who
           hath
           the
           victory
           .
        
         
           "
           See
           then
           that
           Prowesse
           ,
           though
           it
           purchase
           praise
           ,
        
         
           "
           Purchase
           it
           cannot
           health
           ,
           or
           length
           of
           daies
           .
        
         
           "
           Both
           great
           ,
           and
           good
           ,
           yea
           valiant
           men
           must
           die
           ,
        
         
           "
           When
           death
           (
           impartiall
           )
           strikes
           them
           ,
           they
           must
           lie
        
         
           "
           In
           dust
           :
           the
           passing
           bell
           will
           tole
           for
           them
           ,
        
         
           "
           That
           rang
           ,
           erewhile
           ,
           the
           Beggars
           
             Requiem
             .
          
        
         
           "
           The
           way
           he
           's
           gone
           ,
           is
           not
           a
           way
           untrod
           ,
        
         
           "
           But
           is
           decreed
           by
           the
           eternall
           God
           ,
        
         
           "
           To
           be
           the
           way
           ,
           that
           ev'ry
           man
           must
           go
           :
        
         
           "
           Aswell
           a
           Friend
           ,
           as
           he
           that
           is
           a
           Foe
           .
        
         
           "
           Death
           takes
           excize
           of
           all
           ,
           and
           his
           is
           paid
           ,
        
         
           "
           His
           soul's
           at
           's
           place
           ,
           his
           bodie
           's
           to
           be
           laid
        
         
           "
           Where
           they
           in
           their
           best
           judgments
           do
           think
           fit
           ,
        
         
           "
           Who
           with
           what
           else
           he
           left
           ,
           have
           right
           to
           it
           .
        
         
           But
           is
           there
           not
           more
           in
           good
           ESSEX'S
           death
        
         
           Then
           yet
           I
           've
           said
           ?
           let
           's
           feare
           he
           's
           gone
           from
           
           th'earth
        
         
           As
           one
           we
           were
           unworthy
           of
           :
           because
        
         
           Our
           sinnes
           against
           Gods
           sin-forbidding
           Lawes
        
         
           Have
           th'
           Almighty
           incens'd
           and
           made
           him
           frown
           ,
        
         
           And
           in
           his
           wrath
           against
           us
           ,
           to
           cast
           down
        
         
           This
           so
           great
           Pillar
           ,
           that
           he
           might
           be
           set
        
         
           In
           better
           place
           ,
           and
           there
           more
           glory
           get
           ,
        
         
           For
           sins
           (
           we
           know
           )
           bring
           sorrowes
           back
           with
           fears
           .
        
         
           And
           we
           may
           now
           lye
           pickl'd
           up
           in
           tears
           ,
        
         
           For
           that
           our
           Patriots
           so
           fast
           do
           dye
        
         
           Before
           our
           peace
           be
           made
           up
           perfectly
           .
        
         
           "
           Great
           God!
           let
           thy
           offended
           wrath
           surcease
           ,
        
         
           "
           Behold
           thy
           people
           ,
           send
           thy
           people
           peace
           :
        
         
           "
           Turn
           not
           so
           fast
           our
           Nobles
           into
           dust
           :
        
         
           "
           Be
           mercifull
           (
           dear
           God
           )
           as
           well
           as
           just
           .
        
         
           "
           If
           thou
           proceed
           to
           do
           as
           
           thou'st
           begun
           ,
        
         
           "
           We
           shall
           be
           drosse
           when
           all
           the
           gold
           is
           gone
           .
        
         
           "
           'T
           is
           thou
           ,
           't
           is
           thou
           alone
           ,
           didst
           send
           this
           Griefe
           ,
        
         
           "
           'T
           is
           thou
           ,
           't
           is
           thou
           alone
           must
           send
           reliese
           .
        
         
           "
           O
           then
           recruit
           our
           losse
           ,
           increase
           our
           friends
           ;
        
         
           "
           And
           so
           for
           what
           
           thou'st
           done
           make
           us
           amends
           .
        
         
           "
           To
           thee
           alone
           our
           Sorrowes
           do
           appeale
           ,
        
         
           "
           
             Earth
          
           hath
           no
           wound
           too
           hard
           for
           
             Heaven
          
           to
           heale
           .
        
         
           
             William
             Rowland
             .
          
        
      
       
         
           AN
           EPITAPH
           FOR
           HIS
           TOMBE
           .
        
         
           ALL
           you
           who
           passe
           here
           by
           draw
           neere
           ;
        
         
           And
           with
           your
           tears
           bedew
           what
           's
           here
           .
        
         
           For
           they
           've
           as
           marble
           eyes
           as
           hearts
           ,
        
         
           That
           cannot
           weep
           a
           tear
           in
           parts
           ,
        
         
           But
           ,
           like
           dull
           Stoicks
           ,
           quite
           forbeare
           ,
        
         
           When
           they
           do
           see
           ,
           and
           read
           ,
           or
           heare
           ,
        
         
           Who
           lies
           herein
           :
           that
           
             ESSEX
          
           is
        
         
           The
           man
           ,
           an
           Earle
           renown'd
           by
           his
        
         
           Most
           noble
           birth
           :
           whose
           father
           Queene
        
         
           
             Eliza
          
           had
           in
           great
           esteeme
           .
        
         
           And
           he
           himselfe
           ,
           by
           
             Parliament
             ,
          
        
         
           To
           b'Englands
           
             Generall
          
           had
           consent
           ,
        
         
           And
           fought
           our
           Battells
           .
           Now
           he
           's
           dead
           ,
        
         
           Do
           not
           you
           rudely
           o're
           Him
           tread
           ,
        
         
           Who
           hath
           So
           stout
           a
           Champion
           prov'd
           ,
        
         
           And
           was
           therefore
           So
           greatly
           lov'd
           ,
        
         
           That
           
             Fame
          
           hath
           his
           victorious
           browes
        
         
           Oft
           duly
           crown'd
           with
           Lawrell
           boughs
           .
        
         
           Who
           then
           to
           grieve
           will
           spare
           the
           cost
           ,
        
         
           That
           
             England
          
           such
           a
           
             Peere
          
           hath
           lost
           ?
        
         
           And
           that
           no
           more
           of
           that
           same
           Blood
        
         
           Is
           left
           ,
           to
           do
           England
           more
           good
           .
        
         
           
             William
             Rowland
             .
          
        
      
       
         
           
             
               AEtatis
               Suae
               56
            
             
               
                 A
                 MOVRNEFVLL
                 CLOVD
              
               Ouer
               vaylinge
               the
               face
               of
               England
               for
               the
               sorrowfull
               death
               of
               his
               Exelence
               Robert
               Deuourux
               Earle
               of
               Essex
               and
               Ewe
               Vicout
               Herryford
               Lord
               Ferreres
               of
               Chartley
               Boucher
               and
               Louaine
               Lord
               General
               of
               all
               the
               Parlaments
               forces
               ,
               &
               and
               dyed
               ye
               24
               of
               September
               1646.
               
            
             
               
                 BASIS
                 VIRTVTVM
                 CONSTANTIA
              
               depiction of tomb
            
             
               Hîc
               jacet
               in
               tumulo
               ,
               praeclaro
               Sanguine
               natus
               ;
               
                 ROBERTUS
                 DAVEREUX
                 ,
              
               Miles
               fortissimus
               Armis
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             W.
             R.
             
          
        
      
       
         
           EPITAPHIUM
           in
           obitum
           ROBERTI
           DEVEREUX
           ,
           Nobilissimi
           &
           Illustrissimi
           ESSEXIAE
           COMITIS
           .
        
         
           ESSEX
           Castellum
           Patriae
           ,
           fortissimus
           HECTOR
           ,
        
         
           Belligerans
           validè
           ,
           generoso
           Stemmate
           natus
           ,
        
         
           CIVIBVS
           &
           murus
           ,
           necnon
           tutela
           COLONIS
           ,
        
         
           Bellonae
           Conjux
           armatos
           duxit
           apertè
           ,
        
         
           Et
           Patriae
           fixus
           ,
           Regique
           fidelis
           in
           ARMIS
           ,
        
         
           Candida
           Magnificis
           floruerunt
           cuncta
           potenti
           ,
        
         
           INVICTVS
           ,
           stabilis
           ,
           necnon
           quo
           justior
           ALTER
        
         
           Haud
           Pietate
           fuit
           ,
           nec
           Bello
           Major
           &
           Armis
           .
        
         
           Vota
           ,
           proces
           ,
           lachrymas
           ,
           jam
           desine
           (
           Candide
           Lector
           ,
           )
        
         
           Invito
           scelere
           ,
           ac
           fortuna
           reposuit
           Altis
           :
        
         
           Parce
           tuis
           lachrymis
           ,
           donârunt
           Numina
           CAELOS
           :
        
         
           Flebilis
           in
           tumulo
           ,
           multi
           doluere
           Colores
           .
        
         
           
             Epilogus
             .
          
           
             Coeli
             animam
             ,
             terrae
             Corpus
             ,
             fortesque
             dolorem
             ,
          
           
             Et
             Mundus
             Nomen
             ,
             claraque
             facta
             ferunt
             .
          
           
             
               
                 XIV
                 .
                 Calend.
                 Novemb.
                 M.
                 DC.IVL
                 .
              
            
             
               Tho.
               Thorne
               Londinensis
               .
            
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           Published
           according
           to
           Order
           .
        
      
       
         
           London
           ,
           
             Printed
             by
          
           R.
           Austin
           .
           1646.
           
        
      
      
  

