







 
   
     
       
         Englands sorrow for the death of his late Majesty King Charles the II. of blessed memory.
         Knap, J. (John).
      
       
         
           1685
        
      
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         2009-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).
         B03976
         12850362
         Wing K666
         Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.2[172]
         Interim Tract Supplement Guide C.20.f.3[34]
         ESTC R14327
         99882835
         ocm99882835
         182519
         
           
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             Englands sorrow for the death of his late Majesty King Charles the II. of blessed memory.
             Knap, J. (John).
          
           1 sheet ([1] p.).
           
             Printed by George Croom, at the sign of the Blue-Ball in Thames-street, over against Baynard's-Castle.,
             London, :
             1685.
          
           
             Signed: J. Knap. Me. Dr.
             Verse: "Unsluce yours tears for shame: what can you keep ..."
             Item at A4:1[34] imperfect: stained, affecting text and imprint.
             Reproduction of original in the British Library.
          
        
      
    
     
       
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         eng
      
       
         
           Charles -- II, -- King of England, 1630-1685 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800.
           Elegiac poetry, English -- 17th century.
        
      
    
     
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           Englands
           Sorrow
           For
           the
           Death
           of
           his
           late
           Majesty
           King
           CHARLES
           the
           II.
           Of
           Blessed
           Memory
           .
        
         
           
             UNsluce
             your
             Tears
             for
             Shame
             :
             what
             can
             you
             keep
          
           
             Your
             Eyes
             within
             their
             Sockets
             ,
             and
             not
             Weep
             ?
          
           
             Have
             we
             a
             Jewel
             lost
             ,
             more
             worth
             by
             far
          
           
             Than
             Affrica
             and
             both
             the
             Indies
             are
             ?
          
           
             And
             can
             you
             stop
             the
             Currant
             of
             your
             Tears
             ,
          
           
             And
             not
             Beflood
             your selves
             o're
             Head
             and
             Ears
             ?
          
           
             O
             Fie
             !
             fall
             down
             before
             his
             holy
             Shrine
             ,
          
           
             And
             weep
             as
             fast
             as
             ever
             it
             did
             Raine
             ,
          
           
             Stamp
             ,
             and
             with
             Tears
             inundate
             all
             your
             Cheeks
             ,
          
           
             And
             split
             his
             very
             Marble-stone
             with
             Streeks
             ;
          
           
             For
             we
             have
             lost
             that
             lovely
             Silver
             Dove
             ,
          
           
             Which
             was
             a
             Pledge
             of
             God
             Almighty's
             Love
             :
          
           
             'T
             is
             Flown
             away
             ;
             and
             left
             its
             Corporal
             Arke
             ,
          
           
             (
             Until
             the
             Resurrection
             )
             in
             the
             Dark
             :
          
           
             Our
             splended
             Sun
             is
             Set
             ,
             and
             gone
             away
             ,
          
           
             And
             ne'er
             will
             Rise
             again
             till
             Judgment
             Day
             :
          
           
             The
             Meekest
             ,
             Sweetest
             ,
             and
             the
             Best
             of
             Kings
             ,
          
           
             Is
             mounted
             on
             a
             pair
             of
             Angels
             Wings
             ;
          
           
             And
             by
             a
             Summon
             sent
             from
             God
             )
             is
             gone
          
           
             To
             set
             upon
             the
             Everlasting
             Throne
             :
          
           
             O!
             that
             I
             might
             (
             if
             it
             but
             Lawful
             were
             )
          
           
             Whisper
             with
             Reverence
             at
             his
             Sacred
             Eare
             ,
          
           
             And
             ask
             if
             he
             in
             earnest
             had
             his
             Breath
          
           
             Stop'd
             by
             the
             Handkerchief
             of
             Sawcy
             Death
             ;
          
           
             I
             can't
             believe
             it
             was
             ;
             sure
             't
             is
             a
             Lye.
          
           
             The
             Elect
             shall
             only
             Changed
             be
             ,
             not
             Die
             :
          
           
             And
             he
             I
             'm
             confident
             was
             one
             of
             those
          
           
             Who
             being
             almost
             free
             from
             Sin
             was
             Chose
             :
          
           
             And
             so
             he
             did
             not
             Die
             as
             some
             Report
             ,
          
           
             But
             went
             a
             Live
             to
             the
             Coelestial
             Court
             ;
          
           
             There
             to
             receive
             (
             stead
             of
             a
             fading
             Crown
             )
          
           
             One
             that
             I
             'm
             sure
             will
             never
             Tumble
             Down
             .
          
           
             Therefore
             (
             when
             we
             perpend
             his
             Happiness
             ,
          
           
             If
             we
             do
             Mourn
             )
             we
             ought
             to
             Mourn
             the
             less
             :
          
           
             For
             (
             tho
             fond
             Nature
             bids
             us
             Weep
             a
             while
             ,
          
           
             When
             we
             consider
             that
             )
             we
             ought
             to
             Smile
             .
          
           
             Truly
             (
             to
             Mourn
             no
             more
             )
             I
             hold
             it
             Best
             ;
          
           
             Come
             draw
             his
             Curtains
             close
             ,
             and
             let
             him
             Rest
             :
          
           
             Tho
             he
             is
             gone
             ,
             yet
             he
             has
             left
             in
             s
             stead
          
           
             The
             Bravest
             Prince
             that
             ever
             wore
             a
             Head
             :
          
           
             Long
             may
             he
             Live
             to
             wear
             the
             Crown
             and
             Flourish
             ,
          
           
             Till
             all
             his
             Enemies
             Fret
             ,
             Pine
             and
             Perish
             .
          
        
         
           by
           
             J.
             Knap
          
           ,
           Me.
           Dr.
           
        
      
    
     
       
         
           LONDON
           ,
           Printed
           by
           〈◊〉
           〈◊〉
           at
           the
           Sign
           of
           the
           〈◊〉
           〈◊〉
           in
           
             Thomas
             street
          
           ,
           over
           against
           Baynards-Castle
           .
           1685.
           
        
      
    
  

