Brittons bovvre of delights Contayning many, most delectable and fine deuices, of rare epitaphes, pleasant poems, pastorals and sonets by N.B. Gent.

Amoris Lachrimae.

A most singular and sweete Discourse of the life and death of S. P. S. Knight.

AMong the woes of those vnhappie wights, That haue set downe the sorrowes of their time, Whose liues are most deuoid of al delights And passe in griefe the pleasures of their prime: Let me discourse the secrets of my care, More then conceyte or sorrow can declare,

Some loose their wealth, it is a slender losse, My life hath lost the treasure of my trust: Some loose their health, alas a common crosse, My lifes delight is buried in the dust: Some loose their friendes, it is no one mans woe, I lost a friend, such one there are no moe.

Some loose their loue, a sorrow neere the heart, In kinde affect the crosse of onely crosses: Some loose their liues, where sorrowes neuer part, Some loose themselues in thinking of their lossess: More then my selfe is such a friend bereft me, All wealth, nor health, nor loue, nor life, hath left me.

And shall I tell what kinde of man he was, Whome thus I lou'de? and neuer creature hated, Imagine first it dooth my reason passe, To write of him whome hiest power created:

For euerie part that vertue had desired, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the heauens, and of the world admired.

Yet as my heart for griefe and sorrow can, I will describe the substance of his state, In childish yeares he was esteemd a man, And halfe a man, more halfe a magistrate, On whome the Arts and Muses so attended, As all, in all, for all, he was commended.

Whose wisdome was not seene in wanton toies, And though a wanton, yet not deuoid of wit, Of worldly ieasts he neuer made his toies, Although sometimes he had a taste of it: For let the best that liues do what he can, In some things yet he shewes himself a man.

But if on earth there were a man diuine, For Natures gifts and Vertues secret grace, Then giue me leaue to say this loue of mine, Was here too good to haue a dwelling place, But liues in heauen in some high Angels office, Where God himselfe dooth vse him in his seruice.

To say yet more what (in effect) he was, Let this suffice, in summe he was a man, Whose heauenly wisedome found the way to passe, More then the power of Wit and Reason can: In whose attempts the world thus well did know him, Nothing but death could euer ouerthrow him.

Comely of shape, and of a manly face, Noble in birth, and of a princely minde, Kinde in effect and of a courtly grace. Courteous to all, and carefull of the kinde: Valure and Vertue, Learning, Bountie, Loue, These were the parts that did his honour proue.

Whose full perfection thus hath wisedome peased, His wordes were substance, and his deeds diuine, Reason the ground whereon his hope were raysed, Labour his life, and Learning was his line: Truth was his loue, and Triall his intent, Care his couceipt, and Honour his content.

He spake no worde, but carried full his waight, He nothing did that euer tooke disgrace, He had no minde to muse vpon deceyte, He built in heauen his onely byding place, He lou'd the Church where Saints do build the steepls, And sought the worlde where Angels are the people.

He trauaild farre when he was neerest home, Where was no earth he could behold a land, He sawe a house without eare, lime or lome, And saild the seas where there was neuer sand. He sounded depths, without eare lime or lead, And found out life, where other mē were dead.

He fearde no foe, nor euer sought a friend, He knew no want, and made no care of wealth, He nought begun, but had a care to end, And neuer lou'd the honour had in stealth: By fire and sword he wonne his worthy fame, That hath aduaunc'd the honour of his name.

In all the skie he honoured but a starre, That was his course of all his kind affection, Whose flame was nere, although the fire a farre, Gaue him the light of loues direction: He was so kind and constant where he loued, As once resolu'd, he could not he remoued.

His hands was free to helpe the needie hart, His heart was franke to fill the emptie hand, His most desire was to reward desart,

And holde vp state where honour could not stande: His onely i•…•…y was honour of the stelde, To conquere men, and make the Captaines yeelde.

Much was his care, and of his Countrey most, Little his ioy, and in himselfe the least, All for his friend, did seeme but little cost, Yet to himselfe a little was a feast. High was their happe that might but be about him, Death is their life that mourne, to be without him.

Nowe iudge the life in leauing such a ioy, The death in losse of such a daintie friend, What may remoue the roote of this annoy, Or howe this griefe may euer haue an ende. And if it be a care incurable, Thinke of the death where it is •…•…urable.

To liue in death is but a dying life, To die in life, is but a liuing death, Betwixt these two is such a deadly strife, As make me draw this melancholike breath: Wherein conceite dooth liue so discontented, As neuer heart was euer so tormented.

A torment onely made but for the minde, A minde ordainde but onely to distresse, And such distresse as can no comfort finde, But leaues the heart to die remed•…•…esse: And such a death as liueth to beholde, Ten thousand torments more then can be tolde.

Yet though my penne can neuer halfe expresse, The hi•…•…eous torments of my heauie heart, Let me set downe some touch of my distresse, That some poore soule may helpe to beare a part: That in extremities when we are wo begon vs,

The worlde may weepe to sit and looke vpon vs.

Nature and Art are got about his graue, And there sit wailing of each others losse, Hard by the tombe sittes Sorrow in her caue, Cutting her heart to thinke on honours crosse: And Wisedome weeping, wringing of her hands, To see the worlde in what a case it stands.

In this darke hole of death and heauinesse, Sits wofull Bewtie with her blubbred eyes, By her sits Loue, with Care all comfortlesse, Recording of his mothers miseries: Among the rest that wailes the losse of friends, Sits Patience pricking of her fingers ends.

From Pities face doo fall the trickling teares, Of torments such as teare the heart of Loue, The Muses sit and rend their shriueled heares, To see the paine that Loue and Bewtie proue. Among them all howe I am torne in sunder, And yet do liue, confesse it is a wonder.

I liue, oh liue, alas, I liue indeede, But such a life was neuer such a death▪ While fainting heart is but constrainde to feede, Upon the care of a consuming breath: O my sweete Muse, that knowest howe I am vexed, Paint but one passion how I am perplexed.

I call for death, but yet he will not heare me, I read my death, and rue my destinie, I see my death, but he will not come neare me, I feele my death, but yet I cannot die: But where nor death will kill, nor griefe be cured, Thinke what a death of deathes I haue endured.

Yet while I liue in all this miserie, Let me go quarrell with this cruell fate, Why death should do so great an iniur•…•…, Unto the stay of such a happie state: At liuing things to make his leuell so, To kill a Phoenix when there were no mo.

Oh cruell Death what led thy hand awr•…•…e, To take the best and leaue the worst behind, To youth thou art vntimely destinie, Thou mightest haue bene a comfort to the blind: And end the aged of their wearie time, And not a youth in pride of all his prime.

Thou monghtest haue shot at such a wretched thought, As had past ouer all his pleasant yeares, And killed the heart that is consumed to nought, Which being •…•…angled •…•…n these worldly briers, But Bewties loue, and Honors hart to bleed, Fie ou thee death, it is too fowle a deed.

But well, the world will curse thee to thy face, Bewtie and Loue will to thy teeth de•…•…e thee, Honor and Learning draw thee in disgrace, Where no good thought shall euer once come nie thee: And for my selfe to see thee wo begone thee, Will pray to God all plagues may light vpon thee.

For I haue lost the honour of my loue, My loue hath lost the honour of my life, My life and loue doth such a passion proue, As in the world was neuer such a strife: Where secret death and sorow are consented, To see the terror of a heart tormented.

Thou camst too soone, but now thon comst too late, Thy force too great, but now it is too small,

Halfe had in loue, but wholy now in hate, Destred of some, but cursed now of all, Oft I confesse that I haue quakte before thee, But do thy worst, death now I care not for thee.

But dost thou thinke thou canst thy selfe excuse, To say (alas) thou hast but done thine office, Unhappie hand whom so the heauens dost vse, On such a Saint to execute thy seruice; But since it was the will of God to do it, His will be done, I can but yeeld vnto it.

Yet for the care that Vertue hath conceyued, For losse of him that was his dearest loue, And for the death that Honour hath receyued, Where pacience doth the deadly passions proue, I cannot thuse although my hart would hide it, To shew my griefe so great I cannot bide it.

Oh that I had but so diuine a head. As could bewray the sorrowes of my breast, Or from the graue to raise againe the dead, And not offend my God in my request: Or by a prayer I might the grace obtaine, To see the face of my desire againe.

But all in vaine, my wishes not •…•…uaile, My wordes are winde and carrie none effect▪ And with my griefe I feele my senses faile, That Fortune thus should crosse me in affect: As by the losse of one sweet heauenly friend, My heart should die, and yet no dolor end.

End, no God wot, there is no end of griefe▪ Where sad conceit will neuer out of minde, And bootlesse hope to harpe vpon reliefe. Where Care may seeke, and neuer Comfort fin•…•…

For in the wor•…•…d I had no ioy b•…•…t one. And all but death, nowe he is dead and gone.

Gone is my ioy, alas and well-away, What shall I doo nowe all my loue is gone, All my delight is falne vnto decay, Onely but heauen I haue to hope vpon. Oh heauenly powers take pitie of my crie, Let me not li•…•…e, and see my Louer die.

Oh my loue, ah my loue, all my loue gone, Out alas sillie wretch, well-aday wo is me, Of a friend, euer friend, such a friend none, In the worlde, through the worlde, may the worlde see: Holy Saints, higher powers, heauens looke vpon me, Pitie me, comfort me, thus wo begone me.

My heauenly Loue, heauens lou'd as well as I, Heauen was his care, and heauen was his content, In heauen he liues, in heauen he cannot die, From heauen he came, and to the heauens he went, Oh heauenly Loue, heauens will I looke for neuer, Till in the heauens I may beholde thee euer.

But what, me thinks I see a sudden chaunge, The worlde dooth seeme to alter nature much, The state of things is to my reason straunge, And sorrowes such as there were neuer such. Such lacke of loue, such mourning for a friend, Such world of woes, as if the world should end.

Me thinkes I see the Queene of kinde affect, Sighing and sobbing with such inward griefe, As he that could consider the effect, Might see a heart lie dead without reliefe: And •…•…n conceite so ouercome with care, It killes my heart to see her heauie fare.

Me thinkes I see a sight of armed horse, Led in by boyes as if the men were dead, Me thinkes I heare men murmure of a corse, And gallant youthes go hanging of the head: Me thinkes I heare a thunder in the aire▪ Bids fare well Hope & looke vpou Dispaire.

Me thinkes I heare the trumpet drum and fife, Sound all a mort, as if the world were done, Me thinkes I see the'nd of vnhappie life, Or second ioy since latter age beg•…•…ne: Me thinkes I heare the hor•…•…or of the crie, As if the day were come that all should die.

Oh what I heare, oh what I feele and see▪ Hold hart, helpe heauens, how can I longer liue, But in the heauens there is no helpe for me, Not all the world can any comfort giue: When death doth of my dearest friend depriue me. What can remaine in comfort to reuiue me.

Yet for the world shall witnesse what thou art, Which in the world did leaue no like behinde: I will set downe though short of thy desart, The happie honour of thy heauenly minde, And on thy tombe I wil with teares engraue, The death of life that for thy lacke I haue.

Looke on the hils how all the Shepheards sit, Heauie to thinke vpon their honest friend, How Phillis sits as one besides her wit, To see the sorrow of her Shepheards end: Harke how the lambs go blaying vp & downe, To see their Shepheards caried to the towne.

Looke how the flock begin to leaue their feeding, While cruell beasts breake i•…•… among the sheepe,

See how the heart of loue •…•…ooth lie a bleeding, That Mars was slai•…•…e while Venus was a sleepe, See how the earth is bare in euerie place, To see that death hath done the worlde disgrace.

And Corridon poore sillie wretched swaine, Dooth make such mo•…•…e as if he should go mad, All in dispaire to see good dayes againe, To loose the ioy that on the earth he had: Who since the time he heard but of the wound, Liu'de like a ghost that goes vpon the ground.

And so forlorne abandonde all content, Keepes in the Caues where comfort is vnknowne, Borne but to liue, and onely to lament, The dolefull life that by his death hath growne: Who in his life would let him know no care, But by his death all griefes that euer are.

Pan in a rage hath broken all his pipes, Pallas alas sits poaring on a booke▪ Her weeping eyes see howe Diana wipes, And poore Apollo casts a piteous looke: The Nymphes come in with such a wofull crying, As if that Loue or Venus lay a dying.

The Nightingale is stopped in her throte, And shriking Owles do make a fearefull noise, The dolefull Rauens sing a deadly note, And little Wrennes the end of Eagles ioyes: The Phoenix droopes, and Falcons beate their wings, To heare how Swans of death and sorrow sings.

The trees are blasted, and the leaues do wither, The daintie greene is turnde to duskie gray, The gallant Uines are shrunke and gone togither, And all the flowers doo fade and fall away.

The springs are dried, and all the fish scale beaten, And all good fruite the earth it selfe hath eaten.

Oh what a wo it is to see the woes, Where nought but wo is left to looke vpon, A griefe too great for Reason to disclose, And in effect a death to studie on: Where man and beasts, birds, fishes, flowers and trees, Do halfe the hope of all their comfort leese.

When on the earth was euer such a sight, Hardly the world can such a sorrow haue: Neuer did death more seaze vpon delight, Then when this knight was caried to his graue: Which when I sawe, so neere my heart I set, As while I liue I neuer can forget.

First comes the brother all in mourning blacke, Mourning in deede in bodie and in minde, Foulding his armes, as if his heart would cracke, Feeling the death that Loue and Nature finde: Looking upon the last of his delight, Oh heauenly God it was a pitious sight.

The Scholers come with Lachrimis Amoris, As though their hearts were hopelesse of reliefe, The Souldiers come with Tonitr•…•… Clamoris, To make the heauens acquainted with their griefe: The noble Peeres in Ciuitatis portis, In hearts engrauen come in with Dolor mortis▪

The straungers come with Oh che male sorte, The seruants come with Morte dila vita, The secret friends with Morte pui che morte, And all with these Felic•…•…ta finita: Nowe for my selfe, Oh dolor infernale, Da videre morte, & non da viuere tale,

Now if the griefe of all the world be great, How great is his that is the griefe of all, Who doth in thoughts more deadly pangs repeate, Then euer did to all the world befall, Whose paines and passions onely do approue, The onely true Anotamie of loue.

But since I see there is no remedie, What God will haue, must neuer be withstoode: And Male-content is but a maladie, That may consume, but can doe little good, I will to God referre my whole reliefe, In heauenly care of my vnhappie griefe.

And on my knees beseech his holy will, To cast on me those sweete and louing eyes, That heale the heart of euery hatefull griefe, And giue the life where comfort neuer dyes. And where my heart is gone, my hope may thether. That faith and loue may liue in heauen together.

But till my soule may see that heauenly sweete, Where Vertue dooth her dearest loue embrace: Where Comfort, Care, and Kinde affect m•…•…y meete, And haue the ioy to see each others face: Upon thy Tombe I will these wordes set downe, That all the warld may read of thy renowme.

FINIS