A crovvne garland of goulden roses Gathered out of Englands royall garden. Being the liues and strange fortunes of many great personages of this land. Set forth in many pleasant new songs and sonetts neuer before imprinted. By Richard Iohnson.

A most royall song of the life and death of our late renowned Princesse Queene Eli∣zabeth.

To the tune of the Ladies fall.

IN England raigned once a king, eight Henry cald by name: Which made faire Anne of bullaine Queene, of England in great fame. UUho brought vnto this Centry ioy. and to her King delight: A daughter that in England made, Gods Gospell shine most bright.

At Greenwitch was this Princesse borne, that gallant place in Kent: A house belou'd of Kings and Queenes, a house of sweet content. Euen in her childhood she beganne, so stor'd with heauenly grace: That all Estates both high and low, her virtues did embrace.

None like Elizabeth was found, in learning so deuine: She had the perfect skilfull arts, of all the muses nine. In Latten Gréeke and Hebrew shée, most excellent was knowne: To forraine Kings Ambassadors, the same was daily showne,

The Itallian French and Spannish tongue, she well could speake and read. The Turkish and Arabian spéech, grew perfect at her need. Her musicke made her wonderfull, so cunning therein found: The fame whereof about the world, in Princes eares did sound.

Yet when her royall parents liues, by death were tane away: And her deare brother Edward turnd, to clodds of earth and clay. Her cruell sister Mary sought, her lasting greefe and woe, Regarding not the guifts that God, vppon her did bestow.

A bloody raigne Queene Mary liud, a Papist in beléefe: Which was vnto Elizabeth, a great heart breaking gréefe. A faithfull Protestant was she, at which Quéene Mary spighted, And in Elizabethes mishaps, she daily much delighted.

Poore maiden by the Bishops wills, in prison she was put: And from her frends and comforters, in cruell manner shut. Much hoping she would turne in time, and her true faith forsake: But firme she was and patiently, did all these troubles take.

Her sister forthwith gaue command, her diat to be small: Her seruants like wise very few, Yea almost none at all. And also would haue tane her life, but that King Phillip said: Oh Quéene thy contry will report, thou hast the Tiger plaid.

The Lord thus put this King in mind, his chosen Saint to saue: And likewise to Quéene Maries life, a sodaine ending gaue. And so Elizabeth was fetcht, from prison to a crowne: Which she full foure and forty yeares, possest with much renowne.

She popery first of all supprest, and in our English tongue: Did cause Gods bible to be read, which heauen continue long. Poore preaching likewise she ordaind, with plenty in this land: And still against the foes thereof most zealously did stand,

The pride of Rome this Quéene abates, and spightfull Spaine kept vnder: And succord much Low-contry states, where at the world did wonder: That such a worthy Prince as she, should worke such worthy things: And bring more honor to this land, then all our former Kings.

The gould stil brought from Spanish mines, in spight of all her foes: Throughout all parts of Christendome, her braue aduentures shewes. Her battels sought vpon the Seas resounded vp to heauen: Which to aduance her fame and praise, her victory still giuen.

The Spanish power in eighty eight, which thirsted for her blood: Most nobly like an Amazon their purposes withstood. And boldly in her royall campe, in person she was séene: The like was neuer done I thinke, by any Englih Quéene.

Full many a Tray for since that time, she hath consounded quite: And not the bloodiest mind of all, hir courage could affright. For mercy ioynd with maiesty, still made her foes her friends: By pardoning many which deserud, to haue vntimely ends.

Tirone with all his Irish rout, of rebells in that land: Though nere so desperate bold and stout, but feard her great command. She made them quake and tremble sore but for to heare her name: She planted peace in that faire land, and did their wildnesse tame.

Though warres she kept with dangers great, in Ireland, France and Spayne. Yet her true subiects still at home, in safety did remaine, They ioyd to sée her princely sace, and would in nombers run: To méet her royall Maiesty, more thick then moates in Sun.

But time that brings all thinges to end, a swift foot course did run: And of this royall maiden Quéene, a wofull conquest won. Hir death brought feare vppon the land, no wordes but tales of woe: In Subiects eares resounded then, where euer men did goe:

But feare exchangd to present ioyes, swéet comforts loud did ring: In stead of Quéene the people cryd, long liue our royall King. Which name of King did séeme most strang, and made vs sore to muse: Because full many a yeare the name, of King we did not vse:

But such a noble King he is, and so maintaines our peace: That we in heart may dayly wish, his life may neuer cease. His Quéene and his posterity, good angels still defend, This is my muses chiese desire, her melody to end.

FINIS.