Tears At The Grave Of Sir Albertus Morton (Who Was Buried At Southampton) Wept By Sir H. Wotton.
Silence (in truth) would speak my sorrow best,
For, deepest wounds can least their feelings tell;
Yet, let me borrow from mine own unrest,
But time to bid him, whom I lov'd, farewel.
O my unhappy lines! you that before
Have serv'd my youth to vent some wanton cries,
And now congeal'd with grief, can scarce implore
Strength to accent! Here my Albertus lies.
This is the sable Stone, this is the Cave,
And womb of earth that doth his Corps embrace;
While others sing his praise, let me engrave
These bleeding Numbers to adorn the place.
Here will I paint the Characters of woe,
Here will I pay may tribute to the Dead,
And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow,
To humanize the Flints whereon I tread.
Where though I mourn my matchless loss alone,
And none between my weakness judge and me;
Yet even these gentle walls allow my moan,
Whose doleful Ecchoes to my Plaints agree.
But is he gone? and live I rhyming here,
As if some Muse would listen to my Lay,
When all distun'd sit waiting for their Dear,
And bathe the Banks where he was wont to play?
Dwell thou in endless Light, discharged Soul;
Freed now from Natures, and from Fortunes trust:
While on this fluent Globe my glass shall role,
And run the rest of my remaining dust.
Doctor B. Of Tears
Who would have thought, there could have bin
Such joy in tears, wept for our sin?
Mine eyes have seen, my heart hath prov'd
The most and best of earthly joyes:
The sweets of love, and being lov'd,
Masks, Feasts, and Playes, and such like toyes.
Yet, this one tear, which now doth fall,
In true delight exceeds them all.
2. Indeed, mine eyes at first let in
Those guests that did these woes begin,
Therefore mine eyes in tears, and grief,
Are justly drown'd: but, that those tears
Should comfort bring, is past belief:
Oh God! in this thy grace appears,
Thou that mak'st light from darkness spring,
Mak'st joyes to weep, and sorrows sing.
3. Oh where am I? what may I think?
Help, help, alas my heart doth sink;
Thus lost in seas of woe,
Thus laden with my sin,
Waves of despair dash in,
And threat my overthrow.
What heart opprest with such a weight
Can chuse but break, and perish quite?
4. Yet, as at Sea in storms, men use
The Ship to save, the goods to lose;
So, in this fearfull storm,
This danger to prevent,
Before all hope be spent,
I'le chuse the lesser harm:
My tears to seas will convert,
And drown my eyes to save my heart.
5. Oh God my God, what shall I give
To thee in thanks? I am and live
In thee, and thou didst safe preserve
My health, my fame, my goods, my rent,
Thou mak'st me eat while others sterve;
Such unto me thy Blessings are,
As if I were thy only care.
6. But, oh my God! thou art more kind,
When I look inward on my mind:
Thou fill'st my heart with humble joy,
With patience, meekness, fervant love,
(Which doth all other loves destroy)
With faith (which nothing can remove)
And hope assur'd of heavens bliss;
This is my state: thy grace is this.
