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         Walker, Henry, Ironmonger.
      
       
         This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A96987 of text R210830 in the  English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.11[137]). 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
         A96987
         Wing W375
         Thomason 669.f.11[137]
         ESTC R210830
         99869586
         99869586
         162790
         
           
            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. A96987)
         Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 162790)
         Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 246:669f11[137])
      
       
         
           
             An elogie or eulogie on the obits of the Right Honourable Ferdinando Lord Fairefax vvho dyed upon Munday, the 13th of March, anno Dom. 1647.
             Walker, Henry, Ironmonger.
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (port.)
           
             Printed at London by Robert Ibbitson, dwelling in Smithfield neere the Queens head Tavern,
             [London] :
             1648.
          
           
             Signed at end: H. Walker, S. S. Theol.
             Verse - "Far more divine, and cleer, is now, Lord Fairefax gone,".
             Annotation on Thomason copy: "march. 20th 1647"; after 'Theol' at end of text: "a coxcome".
             Reproduction of the original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
         eng
      
       
         
           Fairfax, Ferdinando Fairfax, -- Baron, 1584-1648 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800.
           Elegiac poetry, English.
        
      
    
       A96987  R210830  (Thomason 669.f.11[137]).  civilwar no An elogie or eulogie on the obits of the Right Honourable Ferdinando Lord Fairefax: vvho dyed upon Munday, the 13th of March, anno Dom. 1647 Walker, Henry, Ironmonger 1648    489 2 0 0 0 0 0 41 D  The  rate of 41 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the D category of texts with between 35 and 100 defects per 10,000 words. 
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        2008-02 pfs
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           AN
           ELOGIE
           
             OR
          
           EULOGIE
           ON
           THE
           OBITS
           of
           the
           Right
           Honourable
           FERDINANDO
           Lord
           FAIREFAX
           ▪
           VVho
           dyed
           upon
           Munday
           ,
           the
           13th
           of
           
             March
             ,
             Anno
             Dom.
          
           1647.
           
        
         
           
             depiction of standard bearer
          
           
             portrait of Fairfax
          
           
             blazon or coat of arms
          
           
             depiction of tomb
          
           
             depiction of standard bearer
          
        
         
           
             A
             CROSTICKE
             .
          
           
             
               
                 FAR
              
               more
               DivINe
               ,
               AND
               cleer
               ,
               is
               nOw
               ,
               LORD
               FAIREFAX
               gone
               ,
            
             
               
                 Above
              
               ;
               to
               praise
               
                 JEHOVAH
                 ,
              
               at
               his
               Royall
               Throne
               ;
            
             
               
                 Remote
              
               from
               Earth
               :
               He
               swift
               to
               Heaven
               ascended
               (
               high
               )
            
             
               
                 Dect
              
               in
               a
               wreath
               of
               Tryumph
               ,
               (
               peircing
               through
               the
               skie
               .
               )
            
             
               
                 Into
              
               Celestiall
               glory
               (
               upon
               Angels
               wings
               )
            
             
               
                 Now
              
               
                 Halelujahs
              
               to
               the
               Lord
               of
               Hosts
               he
               sings
               .
            
             
               
                 Adieu
              
               ,
               brave
               Honour
               ,
               
                 England
              
               with
               brinish
               teares
               may
               say
               ,
            
             
               
                 Night
              
               clad
               in
               sable
               blacke
               ,
               mournes
               for
               the
               losse
               of
               day
               .
            
             
               
                 Death
              
               hath
               be
               friended
               Heaven
               with
               the
               
                 Fathers
              
               soul
               ,
            
             
               
                 On
              
               whose
               meeke
               
                 Son
                 ;
              
               let
               Angells
               miriads
               of
               blessings
               roule
               .
            
          
           
             
               
                 Light
              
               (
               shining
               downe
               from
               Heaven
               )
               the
               darkest
               cloud
               expells
               ,
            
             
               
                 On
              
               Earth
               ;
               when
               Sun
               with
               glittering
               most
               bright
               excells
               :
            
             
               
                 Riseth
              
               in
               splendor
               ,
               ascends
               with
               smiles
               :
               But
               sets
               in
               dismall
               turning
               ,
            
             
               
                 Death
              
               thus
               hath
               vail'd
               our
               light
               ,
               and
               left
               us
               all
               in
               mourning
               .
            
          
           
             
               
                 
                   Fairefax
                
                 ;
              
               valiant
               ,
               and
               true
               :
               For
               
                 Englands
              
               peace
               he
               stood
               ,
            
             
               
                 And
              
               to
               his
               wife
               ,
               kindred
               ,
               neighbours
               ,
               was
               wise
               and
               good
               ,
            
             
               
                 Iust
              
               unto
               all
               ;
               And
               mercifull
               ;
               As
               orbs
               of
               Stars
               .
            
             
               
                 Reliefe
              
               shin'd
               comfort
               ,
               from
               his
               sparkled
               hands
               .
               And
               bars
            
             
               
                 Effectuall
              
               ,
               for
               truths
               defence
               he
               did
               erect
               :
            
             
               
                 False
              
               hypocrites
               unmaske
               ,
               and
               wickednesse
               detect
               .
            
             
               
                 And
              
               now
               his
               soul
               's
               in
               glory
               (
               though
               
                 Xenius
              
               mount
               above
               )
            
             
               
                 
                   Xanthius
                
              
               his
               Son
               is
               here
               ;
               The
               Generall
               of
               love
               .
            
          
        
         
           
             The
             Etymologie
             of
             his
             name
             from
             the
             Hebr●w
             .
          
           
           
             חקפ
             ארפ
             אד
             ןינ
             יד
             דרפ
          
           
             Faradh-dhi-nin
             da
             Fere-Fakahh
             .
          
           
             
               The
               Hebrew
               of
               the
               Lord
            
             Fairfaxes
             
               name
               ,
               translated
               into
            
             English
             .
          
           
             He
             hath
             separated
             a
             sufficient
             Sonne
             ,
             that
             wounded
             the
             wild
             Asse
             .
          
        
         
           
             
               An
               ELOGIE
               .
            
             
               Renowned
               
                 Fairfax
                 ,
              
               whom
               the
               State
               did
               love
            
             
               Is
               now
               ASSENDED
               to
               His
               GOD
               above
               ,
            
             
               Hee
               liv'd
               and
               dy'd
               in
               Honour
               ,
               full
               of
               years
               :
            
             
               His
               death
               sets
               sluces
               ope
               ,
               to
               powre
               out
               tears
               .
            
             
               When
               wicked
               men
               began
               to
               rise
               ,
            
             
               The
               godly
               Party
               to
               surprize
               ,
            
             
               And
               make
               them
               slaves
            
             
               To
               many
               Knaves
               ,
            
             
               To
               spoyle
               our
               Goods
            
             
               And
               spill
               OUR
               Bloods
               ;
            
             
               He
               parted
               with
               his
               Son
               most
               dear
            
             
               Who
               of
               their
               holes
               did
               them
               all
               clear
               ,
            
             
               The
               Father's
               dead
               ,
               and
               gone
               to
               rest
               above
               ,
            
             
               The
               Son
               hath
               wrought
               our
               peace
               ,
               if
               wee
               had
               Love
               .
            
             
               By
               God
               Almighties
               power
               ,
               then
               let
               us
               all
               ,
            
             
               Give
               him
               the
               Glory
               ,
               and
               Love
               ,
               reciprocall
               .
            
          
        
         
           By
           H.
           Walker
           ,
           S.
           S.
           Theol.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
           Printed
           at
           London
           by
           Robert
           Ibbitson
           ,
           dwelling
           in
           Smithfield
           neere
           the
           Queens
           head
           Tavern
           ,
           1648.
           
        
      
      
  

