Englands Parnassus: or the choysest flowers of our moderne poets, with their poeticall comparisons Descriptions of bewties, personages, castles, pallaces, mountaines, groues, seas, springs, riuers, &c. Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasaunt and profitable.

Death.

—A dumbe dead course we ••awe, Heauy and cold the shape of death aright, That daunts all earthly creatures to his lawes Against whose force in vaine it i•• to fight,

Ne Peeres, ne Princes, nor no mortall wight, No Townes, ne Realmes, Cities ne strongest Tower, But all perforce must yeeld vnto his power. His dart anon out of his corpes he tooke, And in his hand (a needfull fight to see) With great tryumph eftsoones the same he shooke: That most of all my feares affraied me, His body dight with nought but bones perdie. The naked shape of man there sawe I plaine, All saue the flesh, the sinew, and the vaine. M. Sackuill.

Death is a port, whereby we passe to ioy, Life is a lake, that drowneth all in paine: Death is so neare it ceaseth all annoy. Life is so leaud, that all it yeelds is vaine. And as by life to bondage man was brought, Euen so likewise by death was freedome wrought. E. of Surrey.

Nought is immortall vnderneath the Sun, All things are subiect to deaths tyrannie: Both clownes & kings, one selfesame course must run, And whatsoeuer liues is sure to die. Th. Kyd.

Death's alwaies readie, and our time is knowne To be at heauens dispose, and not our owne. Idem.

The brauest are as blossomes, and the longest liuer dies: And dead, the loueliest creature as the lothsoms carion lies. W. Warner.

Our frailties done are written in the flowers, Which flourish now, and fade away ere many howres. S. Daniell.

—All earthly things be borne To die the death, for nought long time may last: The sunne his beautie yeelds to winters blast. I. H. M. of Magist.

Is't not gods deed what euer thing is done, In heauen and earth? Did not he all create To die againe? all ends that was begunne: Their times, in his eternall bookes of fate, Are written sure, and haue their certaine date. Who then can striue with strong necessitie, That holds the world in his still chaunging state? Or shun the death ordaind by desteny, When houre of death is come, let none aske whence or why. Ed. Spencer.

—Death amongst all deales equally, For hee's impartiall, and with one selfe hand Cuts off both good and bad, none can withstand. Ch. Middleton.

Death certaine is to all the prouerbe saith: Vncertaine is to all the houre of death. S. I. Harr. Transl.

Pale fearefull death with bloudy dart doth strike, The wretched caitiffe and the king alike. Vntimely neuer comes the lifes last meere, In cradle death may rightly claime his debt, Straight after birth, is due the fatall beere: By deaths permission th'aged linger heere. Euen in the swath-bands our commission goeth, To loose thy breath, that yet but yoongly bleweth. I. H. Mir. of M.

All musicke sleepes where death doth lead the daunce. Ed. Spencer.

Let nature for perfection mould a paragon each way, Yet death at last on finest lumps of liuing flesh wil pray For nature neuer framed it, that neuer shall decay. VV. VVarner.

—Fatall death the emperor of graues. I. Markham.

Death is the key which vnlockes miserie, And lets them out to blessed libertie. M. Drayton.

All is but lost that liuing we bestowed, If not well ended at our dying day. O man haue mind of that last bitter rage, For as the tree doth fall, so lies it euer lowe: Ed. Spencer.

No feare of death should force vs to do ill. Th. Kyd.

—When for feare of an ensuing ill We seeke to shorten our appointed race, Then tis for feare that we our selues do kill: So fond we are to feare the worlds disgrace. Idem.

Happie, thrice happie, who so lost his breath, That life he gaineth, by his godly death. Vnwise and wretched men to weet whats good or ill, We deeme of death as doome of ill desert: But know we fooles what it vs brings vntill: Die would we daily once it too expert. No danger there the shepheard can a start, Faire fields and pleasant fields there beene,

The fields aye fresh, the grasse aye greene. Ed. Spencer.

—This same Which we call death, the soules release from woe, The worke which bring our blisse to happie frame: Sildome arrests the bodie, but we finde Some notice of it written in our minde. I. Markham.

The worth of all men by their end esteeme, And then due praise, or due reproach them yeeld. S. Spencer.

—Death is an euill doome. To good and bad, the common Inne of rest, But after death the triall is to come When best shall be to them that liued best, But both alike when death hath both supprest. Religious reuerence doth buriall teene, Which who so wants, wants so much of his rest. For all so great shame after death I weene, As selfe to dien bad, vnburied, bad to beene. Ed. Spencer.

—Beasts with carelesse steppes to laethe go, Where men whose thoughts and honours clime on hie, Liuing with fame, must learne with fame to die. D. Lodge.

Death but an acted passion doth appeare, Where truth giues courage and the conscience cleare. M. Drayton.

Who dies, the vtmost dolour must abide: But who that liues, is left to waile his losse, So life is losse, and death felicitie.

Sad life worse then glad death, and greater crosse To see friends graue, then dead, the graue selfe to en∣grosse. Ed. Spencer.

—In wretches sudden death at once There long-some ill is buried with their bones. Th. Hudson. Transl.

Death is to him that wretched life doth lead Both grace and gaine; but he in hell doth lie That liues a loathed life, and wishing cannot die. Ed. Spencer.

Death is most louely sweet and amiable: But captiu'd life for foulenesse admirable. I. Marston.

—The toongs of dying men Inforce attention like deep harmony, Where words are scarce, they are sildom spent in vaine: For they breath truth, that breath their words in paine. He that no more must say, is lissened more, Then they whom youth & ease haue taught to glose: More are mens ends markt, then their liues before. The setting sunne and musick at the close, As the last tast of sweet is sweetest tast, Writ in remembrance more, then things long past. W. Shakespeare.