Sir Thomas Ouerburie his wife with new elegies vpon his (now knowne) vntimely death : whereunto are annexed, new newes and characters / written by himselfe and other learned gentlemen.

A Sailor

IS a pitcht peece of reason calkt and tackled, and onely studied to dispute with tempests. He is part of his owne Prouision, for he liues euerpickled. A fore-winde is the substance of his Creed; and fresh water the burden of his prayers. He is naturally ambitious, for he is euer climing: out of which as naturally he feares; for hee is euer fly∣ing: time and he are euery where, euer contending who shall ariue first: hee is well winded, for he tires the day, and out-runne darknesse. His life is like a Hawkes, the best part mewed; and if

he liue till three coates, is a Master. He sees Gods wonders in the deep: but so as rather they appeare his play-fel∣lowes, then stirrers of his zeale: nothing but hunger and hard rockes can con∣uert him, and then but his vpper deck neither; for his hold neither feares nor hopes. His sleeps are but repreeuals of his dangers, and when he awakes, tis but next stage to dying. His wisdome is the coldest part about him, for it euer points to the North: and it lyes lowest, which makes his valor euerie tide ore∣flow it. In a storme tis disputable, whe∣ther the noise be more his, or the Ele∣ments, and which will first leaue scol∣ding; on which side of the ship he may be saued best, whether his faith bee starre-bord faith, or lar-bord: or the helme at that time not all his hope of heauen: his keel is the Embleme of his conscience, till it be split hee neuer re∣pents, then no farther then the land allowes him, and his language is a new confusion: and all his thoughts new

nations: his bodie and his ship are both one burthen, nor is it known who stowes most wine, or rowles most, only the ship is guided, he has no sterne: a barnacle and hee are bred together both of one nature, and tis fear'd one reason: vpon any but a woodden horse hee cannot ride, and if the winde blow against him he dare not: hee swarues vp to his seat as to a saile yarde, and cannot sit vnlesse he beare a flag staffe: if euer he be broken to the saddle, tis but a voyage still, for hee mistakes the bridle for a bowlin, and is euer turning his horse taile: he can pray, but tis by rote, not faith, and when he would hee dares not, for his brackish beleefe hath made that ominous. A rocke or a quick sand plucke him before hee be ripe, else he is gathered to his friends at Wapping.