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A02619
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Two elegies, on the late death of our soueraigne Queene Anne With epitaphes. Written by Patrick Hannay Mr. of Arts.
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Hannay, Patrick, d. 1629?
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1619
(1619)
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STC 12749; ESTC S103739
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8,631
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39
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sight Or loth to alter with his brighter streames Our late obscured Cyntia's lesser gleames For her fled soule vvhich doth with glory shine Left with its lodging something that 's diuine Which vvith reflection smileth on these rayes Which her bright soule now froÌ„ the skies displeas And these light orbes which vvith such swiftnes roule About the Heauens acquainted vvith her soule To light her corps doe set in euery porch Of the damantine Heauen a starry torch Which darkned with the weeping Earths moist vapours Are her last lampes and neuer dying tapers Thames trembles Forth doth feuerise for feare Both roare to see their soueraigne thus appeare Their billowes breake their hearts against the shore Their fishes faint yet cannot tell wherefore But vvhen they float vpon the water crop And see the teares from eyes and oars which drop They thinke them all to few and adde their owne And swimme in proper waters earst vnknowne The water-Nymphes now round about her boat Cloath'd in sad sable mourning habits float The Hamadryads and the Siluans all To beare apart in this complaint they call Who since her death had practis'd in their teares Streames deep enough none now the water fears They brought with them sweet Camomile and Rew Mint Spicknard Marioram her way they strew With flowers of choicest colour and of sent Which from the slender-weeping-stalk was rent Her Exequies these Nymphes together sing Till vvith this consort Heauen Earth doth ring Heauens in uying our waters walkes and woods Hath reft our ioy and plac'd her ' mongst the Gods No more our wandring waues shall wantonize No more shall swelling billowes braue the skies No more shall purling Zephyr curle our head No more we 'l foamy-powders thereon spread No more shall now Meandrian walkes delight vs No more despaire vvith death shall now affright vs Since heauen inuying our late happie floods Hath reft our ioy and plac'd ' mongst the Gods Wee 'l take no sport now to persue the Fawne Wee 'l no more tread light measures on the Lawne Wee 'l deck our heads no more with Flora's flowres Wee 'l vvooe no more our vvooddy Paramours Wee 'l beare no part hereafter vvith the birds Wee 'l vveep for woe and teach them vvaile in vvords Since heauen enuying our late happy woods Hath reft our ioy and plac'd her ' mongst the Gods Wee 'l hide our heads within our shores shelues Wee 'l dwell in darkest cipresse groues with elues No more wee 'l sollace in great Nephtunes hals No more wee 'l dance at Syluanes festiuals Because she 's gone whose glory grac'd our floods Because she 's gone who honour'd walkes and woods Thus sung they her along but come to shore Where she must leaue them they nere see her more They sinke to bottome either in a swone Or else themselues now loathing life to drowne The Forth and Thames losing their so lou'd sight Vow yearely to renew their woes that night An Epitaph POwer to doe ill and practise onely good Humblest in heart highest in place and blood Fairest and freest from loose-desires in thought Pleasures to tempt yet not distain'd in ought With anxious care in courage nere deiected Though cause of ioy with no vaine-ioy affected Know Reader whensoere these lines you scan Such and none such but she was our Queene Anne An Epitaph A Wife a Daughter Sister to a King Mother to those whose hopes doe higher spring Chaste faire vvise kind first Crowne-vnited wâ—râ— We knew her such and held her for no more That she was more Gods daughter and heauens heire We know since parted hence He crownes her there FINIS
to please With all the loue-alurements of the Seas Yet all doe not so much as moue one smile An anxious sorrow soone discouer'th guile Yet he vvill guid guard her grieuing streames Whom at her entry in the vvished Thames He leaues and vowes in discontent to mourne Till fairest Forth back to the Sea returne Her sister her receiues vvith kind imbrace Their liquid armes clasping they interlace In loue so straight they cannot be vntwinde They seeme both one in body and in minde O happy vnion labour'd long in vaine Reseru'd by God to Iames his ioyfull raigne And Anne's O blessed couple so esteem'd By all fore-knowing Ioue that He them deem'd Worthie each other and to vveare that Iemme Blest Britaines now vnited Diademe He esteem'd none vvorthy to wear 't before them But kept it still in store for to decore them How did He suffer those two kingdomes try All open power and priuate policie Yet still increased discord others force Made seperation greater su'd diuorce How did one teare the other spare no toyle To bath in blood the neighbours fertill soile Wrath discord malice enuy rapiny strife Thefts rapes and murderous mischieues were so rife None liu'd secure while each King did protect The others fugitiues for his respect Thus looking for no rest or end of hate But with the ruine of the aduerse State God he effects it that to him alone We might ascribe the honour and being one We might loue better Twixt vnited foes And seperated friends loue and hate growes To greatest heights And for this end doth raise Vsing the meanes the honour of his dayes Great Iames the ioy presaging Northrene starre Whose radiant light illuminates so farre As it doth warme with its all-quickning-beames The frozen-loue betwixt the Tay and Thames With wonder and delight drawing all hearts And eyes to loue and see his Princely parts And what is strange who hated most before With admiration most his worth adore Wishing they were his subiects He is King Already of their hearts the poyson'd sting Of rancor is remoou'd for loue they call him And with their kingdoms ornaments install him Great confidence his vertous life must bring Whom such old foes loue forces make their King Where vvas ere heard of emulating foes Rooted in hate with others ouerthrowes Such and so long that did their wrath apease And yeeld won but by loue to right as these Yet doe they not repent they finde report Sometime is vvrong'd and may indeed come short In commendations yet it s rare as here For she 's a woman and by kinde vvill beare More then she should but his last subiects find Themselues with Saba's Queen of self-same mind That fame though saying by beliefe had wrong'd Two Kings not telling halfe to each that long'd For England heard not nor could it haue thought That Scotlands king such wonders could haue wrought Long may he liue and die vvell full of yeares And vvhen his death shall draw vs dry vvith teares On Brittaines Throne may his seed euer raigne Till Christ doe come to iudge the vvorld againe Who vvould haue thought from the Scot-hated Dane Whom vanquish'd England so much did disdaine Opprest with base succesion they did turne Being freed Lord-dane to lurdane for a scorne Who would haue thought I say frō Dane should spring One vvho from Scots and English eyes should vvring Such hearty teares must not her worth be much Since we doe find its-loue-effects proue such Hovv great that worth in such such loue could breed O let it liue for euer in her seed And let that loue in our hearts neuer die But euer liue to her Pesteritie And those sweet streames her mate and she conbinde In loue O let their armes be nere vntwinde From kind imbraces and though now their greetings Be not so ioyfull as at other meetings Yet is their loue all one they take one part The one ioyes not the other sad at heart They surfeit now in sorrow then in pleasure Ioy then exceeds griefe now is aboue measure To honour Charles our hope vvhen they met last How did they rob each meadow as they past Of sweets each banke a posie did bestovv Of fairest flowers that on his brim did grovv These such like they brought from euery part And gratulations from each subiects heart They swell'd vvith pride rising in loftly vvaues And all the neighbour bordring banks out-braues Their fishes frolick'd showing ioy by gesture The waters vvantonizing vvoo'd their Maister So fast their billowes 'bout his blest barge throng'd They hurt themselues oft oft their fellowes vvrong'd Each vvould be first on others backs some ride Some vnder others slippry shoulders slide Though beat with oares yet vvill they not turne backe For they their humble prostrate homage make The Sun then guilt each glistring-glassie-coat Those Marin-masquers wore dans'd bout his boat Who by the musicke measur'd not their paces Deaf'd vvith a confus'd cry from diuerse places Of maidens matrons aged men and boyes Which from each quarter made a confus'd noyse Of hearty Aue's vvelcomming their Prince Eccho vvith answering tyrd was mute still since The Citie with the suburbs did appeare Like a large Theater vvhen he came neare Each window wall each turret top and steeple Was fild with euery age sex sort of people So as some thought vvho earst had neuer seene Such numbers that the buildings all had beene Of Imagry contriu'd by cunning Art For on the ground the Brewer in his cart The Sculler Carman and the baser sort Seem'd strong and rudely caru'd clownes to support The stately frame Maides Prentises and groomes Made shop-dore window stale and lower roomes The batlements house-couerings and the leads As tyles or slates young boyes girles ore-spreads The middle roomes all round about the Thames Which Ladies held and choiser Citie-Dames Such tooke for spaces vvhich faire statues held Where Caruer and the Painter both exceld So pure complexions these seem'd made by Art As Nature neuer did the like impart To louely youth The large low open breast Full white round swelling azure-vain'd increast The error for they thought none liuing vvould Lay out such parts for all eyes to behold So curious were the colours which vvere showne As Nature hardly could from Art be knowne So that they could adiudge them due to neither But participles taking part of either Yet all by voyce and gesture seemed glad Wonder it was to see a thing looke sad Now it s not so the offrings are but teares The sighes and groanes of Brittaines blest-reft sheres Are now the acclamations these two streames Compounded waters of mixt sorrow seemes Yet walke they hand in hand with equall pace T'wards that late pleasant but now pensiue place Where sorrow sutedin a sable weed Doth vvith a mourning vaile each heart ore-spread And Phoebus for to make the world and minde To vveare one liuery all his beames confinde Dimming each eye in darknesse of the night Either asham'd to mourne in open