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         Leicester, John.
      
       
         This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A88893 of text R212066 in the  English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.8[17]). 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 
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         EarlyPrint Project
         Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO
         2017
         A88893
         Wing L963
         Thomason 669.f.8[17]
         ESTC R212066
         99870718
         99870718
         161068
         
           
            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. A88893)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 161068)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 245:669f8[17])
      
       
         
           
             An elegiacall epitaph upon the deplored death of that religious and valiant gentlemen, Colonell Iohn Hampden Esquire, a worthy Member of the honourable House of Commons in Parliament who received his death wound in a battell neere Chinnar in Oxfordshire, and deceased at Thame. June, the 27. M D CXLIII.
             Leicester, John.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.)
           
             Printed by Bernard Alsop,
             London :
             1641. [i.e. 1643]
          
           
             Verse - "Since God himselfe did stoop so low, to lay".
             Signed: Jo: Leicester.
             Dated at end: Iuly, 27. 1643.
             The imprint date is in error; actual publication date from Wing.
             Reproduction of the original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Hampden, John, 1594-1643 -- Early works to 1800.
           Elegiac poetry, English -- Early works to 1800.
        
      
    
       A88893  R212066  (Thomason 669.f.8[17]).  civilwar no An elegiacall epitaph upon the deplored death of that religious and valiant gentlemen, Colonell Iohn Hampden Esquire, a worthy Member of the Leicester, John.  1641    520 1 0 0 0 0 0 19 C  The  rate of 19 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 
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           AN
           ELEGIACALL
           EPITAPH
           UPON
           The
           deplored
           Death
           of
           that
           Religious
           and
           Valiant
           Gentleman
           ,
           Colonell
           Iohn
           Hampden
           Esquire
           ,
           A
           worthy
           Member
           of
           the
           Honourable
           House
           of
           Commons
           in
           PARLIAMENT
           ;
           who
           received
           his
           Deaths
           wound
           in
           a
           Battell
           neere
           Chinnar
           in
           Oxfordshire
           ,
           and
           deceased
           At
           Thame
           .
           
             JUNE
             ,
             the
             27.
             
             MDCXLIII
             .
          
        
         
           SInce
           God
           himselfe
           did
           stoop
           so
           low
           ,
           to
           lay
        
         
           His
           Picture
           on
           a
           piece
           of
           that
           same
           Clay
        
         
           Whereof
           we
           are
           composed
           ,
           't
           is
           but
           just
           ,
        
         
           To
           wayle
           his
           losse
           ,
           and
           to
           adorne
           his
           Dust
           :
        
         
           In
           doing
           which
           ,
           both
           head
           and
           hand
           may
           misse
           ,
        
         
           For
           who
           can
           pourtray
           Vertue
           as
           it
           is
           ?
        
         
           Or
           make
           a
           true
           description
           of
           that
           fire
           ,
        
         
           That
           so
           inflam'd
           him
           with
           a
           brave
           desire
           ?
        
         
           But
           if
           a
           
             Jem
             ,
          
           which
           God
           both
           made
           and
           bought
           ,
        
         
           Of
           manly
           shape
           ,
           yet
           of
           more
           manly
           thought
           ,
        
         
           If
           Piety
           ,
           and
           to
           the
           truth
           true
           Zeale
           ,
        
         
           If
           love
           and
           care
           of
           Church
           and
           common
           weale
           ,
        
         
           If
           Chastity
           (
           rare
           in
           a
           Souldiers
           brest
           )
        
         
           And
           Temperance
           ,
           (
           which
           Cavaliers
           detest
           ,
           )
        
         
           If
           wisdome
           ,
           courage
           ,
           and
           an
           humble
           minde
           ,
        
         
           ●ust
           dealing
           unto
           which
           he
           was
           inclin'de
           ;
        
         
           If
           love
           of
           Peace
           ,
           of
           Armes
           ,
           and
           heavenly
           Arts
           ,
        
         
           And
           bounty
           unto
           men
           of
           good
           deserts
           ,
        
         
           May
           make
           a
           man
           unto
           his
           Country
           deare
           ,
        
         
           Brave
           
             Hampden
          
           justly
           may
           exact
           a
           teare
        
         
           From
           present
           and
           succeding
           
             Ages
             ;
          
           then
        
         
           Come
           
             Albion
             Muses
          
           all
           ,
           come
           Maids
           and
           Men
           ,
        
         
           Come
           silver
           Swannes
           leave
           singing
           on
           the
           banks
           ,
        
         
           Of
           
             Isis
          
           floods
           ,
           and
           in
           you
           painted
           Rankes
        
         
           Yee
           merry
           Birds
           goe
           solitary
           sitt
           ,
        
         
           Silence
           and
           sorrow
           ,
           does
           us
           best
           befitt
           :
        
         
           For
           though
           we
           live
           ,
           yet
           are
           we
           deadly
           shot
           ,
        
         
           (
           Like
           stricken
           Deere
           at
           gaze
           )
           and
           feele
           it
           not
           .
        
         
           Then
           let
           our
           Teares
           upon
           our selves
           descend
           ,
        
         
           For
           our
           Heav'n-daring
           Crimes
           ,
           which
           do
           portend
        
         
           More
           heavy
           Judgements
           comming
           on
           apace
           ,
        
         
           To
           Court
           and
           Country
           ,
           retrograde
           to
           Grace
           .
        
         
           In
           vaine
           (
           deare
           
             Hampden
             )
          
           we
           sollicit
           Thee
           ,
        
         
           Whose
           passive
           part
           hath
           made
           thee
           now
           shot-free
        
         
           From
           
             Syrens
          
           violence
           ,
           Sin
           ,
           Feare
           and
           Death
           ,
        
         
           Wherewith
           we
           Mortalls
           struggle
           heere
           beneath
           .
        
         
           Then
           let
           us
           strew
           thy
           Herse
           with
           bud
           and
           bloome
           ,
        
         
           As
           
             Thetis
          
           did
           her
           lov'd
           
             Achilles
          
           Tombe
           ,
        
         
           Or
           rather
           hang
           (
           with
           
             Athens
             )
          
           Lawrell
           by
           ,
        
         
           In
           token
           of
           Thy
           happy
           
             VICTORY
             ,
          
        
         
           Triumphing
           over
           all
           fore-named
           Foes
           ,
        
         
           And
           whatsoever
           did
           Thee
           heere
           oppose
           .
        
         
           Farewell
           then
           honour'd
           
             Hampden
          
           (
           heav'nly
           Jem
           )
        
         
           Adoring
           now
           the
           new
           
             IERVSALEM
             .
          
        
         
           Farewell
           belov'd
           in
           
             Parliament
          
           and
           
             Field
             ,
          
        
         
           Farewell
           thy
           Soldiers
           faithfull
           broken
           Shield
           :
        
         
           Farewell
           thy
           friends
           and
           native
           Counties
           stay
           ,
        
         
           To
           them
           it
           is
           an
           over-clouded
           Day
           ;
        
         
           And
           dismall
           unto
           all
           it
           may
           be
           spoke
           ,
        
         
           Save
           such
           as
           love
           to
           beare
           the
           
             Romish
          
           Yoake
           .
        
         
           
             
               IULY
               ,
               27.
               1643.
               
            
          
           
             
               Per
            
             JO
             :
             LEICESTER
             .
          
        
      
    
     
       
         
           
             LONDON
             ,
          
           Printed
           by
           
             BERNARD
          
           ALSOP
           .
           1641.
           
        
      
      
  

