An elegie upon the truely lamented death of the Right Honorable Sir Julius Cæsar Knt. Master of the Rolles, and of Snt Katherins: and one of his Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell. Wept by Fra: Qua Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644. 1636 Approx. 10 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 7 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A10256 STC 20538 ESTC S110573 99846088 99846088 11029 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A10256) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 11029) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1001:15) An elegie upon the truely lamented death of the Right Honorable Sir Julius Cæsar Knt. Master of the Rolles, and of Snt Katherins: and one of his Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell. Wept by Fra: Qua Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644. [14] p. Printed [by Miles Flesher] for Iohn Marriot, London : 1636. Dedication signed: Fra: Quarles. In verse. Printer's name from STC. Signatures: A (-A1). Running title reads: An elegie. Reproduction of a photostat of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford. Re-processed by University of Nebraska-Lincoln and Northwestern, with changes to facilitate morpho-syntactic tagging. 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Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site . eng Caesar, Julius, -- Sir, 1558-1636 -- Death and burial -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. 2002-03 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2002-04 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-05 TCP Staff (Michigan) Sampled and proofread 2002-05 Olivia Bottum Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-06 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion AN ELEGIE VPON THE TRVELY LAMENTED Death of the Right Honorable Sir JULIUS CAESAR K nt . Master of the Rolles , And of S nt Katherins : AND One of His Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell . Wept . by FRA : QVA. — Micat inter omnes , Iulium sidus , velut inter ignes Luna minores . LONDON , Printed for Iohn Marriot . 1636. TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE , AND MOST WORTHY OF DOUBLE HONOR , The Lady CAESAR , Wife to the Right Honorable Sir JVLIVS CAESAR K nt : Late M r. of the Rolles : AND One of His Majesties most Honorable Privy Counsell . WEE are all prisoners for a debt we owe to Nature , committed to the Gaole of this transitory world : Some pay sooner : Some later : All must pay . As yesterday , our Blessed Saviour paid it : To day your deare Husband paid it : A bitter example sweetly followed : He followed Him in his life : He followed Him in his death : and so close in both , that as in life , he was assuredly His by Grace , so in death he is most certainly His in Glory . Madam , my most entire affection hath performed this last service to his deare Remembrance , which I present to your Noble hands , beseeching Almighty God to comfort you , and hereafter to raise you to the same pitch of Glory where he is . Madam , Your La v faithfull servant , FRA : QUARLES . TO MY HONORABLE FRIENDS , Sir CHARLES CaeSAR Knight , Sir IOHN CaeSAR Knight , ROBERT CaeSAR Esquire . You Noble Brothers , GIve me leave to make you Partners in my Dedication with this honourable Lady , as she is Partner in your Losse : How much I am bound to this service , I appeale to you : How much my expressions come short of his merit , I appeale to the world . His worth and my grief , require stupifaction rather then language : Leves loquuntur ; ingentes stupent . He hath left you the rich Inheritance of a rare example , which if you truely follow , shall follow you to that glory which hee enjoyes , whose gray hairs you have brought in peace and honor to the ground . The servant of his memory , and your vertues , FRA : QVA. An Elegie . LEt such invoke the Muses that have Art , To broach their studied tears , & get by heart Their ill-weigh'd sorrows ; that can scrue their brains To any tuneing ; from Threnodian straines , To love-sick Sonets ; and from thence , can call Their fancies to a light-foot Madrigall : Let those invoke , whose mercenary ' Affections Are dry , and cannot give , without directions From moist Melpomenè , but stick the Herse With a faire texted lamentable verse , More sorry then the Makers , trickt with flowers Of bare Invention , which the twilight showers Of Nature ne'r bedew'd ; Let such as they Invoke the Muses , whilst we cut our way Through these our Alpine griefes , and sadly rise With the sharp vinegre of suffused eyes : Our high spring-tides are full , no need to borrow A dropt ' encrease the deluge of our sorrow . O were the triviall subject of our Tears A private losse , where one dull Mourner beares His single load , ingenious Grief might find A golden Meane , and meanes to be confin'd : A privat sorrow gains a soone reliefe , And griefe not Common , is a common griefe : But where a sad calamity shall presse The publique shoulders , what , ô what redresse Can full complaints expect ? What Member , first , Shall help to binde , when every Member's burst ? Such are our sorrows ; such disasters now Enforce our melting souls to overflow The banks of swelling Passion , which appeares A troubled Sea of Epidemick teares . O that the hearts of men had equall scales , To weigh that losse which my sad heart bewailes ! T is not a Father , or a Friend , or One , Whose death soft Nature bids us to bemone , Which we lament ; that sorrow would extend But to our selves , and with our selves would end : Such losse is load enough ; but may be borne On well prepared shoulders , and outworne : But this , ô this exceeds ; where every brest , Which hates not Vertue , hath a Interest . The Church hath lost a Patron ; and the State Bewailes an honourable Potentate ; The King , a Counsellour ; the Court Of Conscience , a just Iudge ; the greater Sort , A sweet familiar ; what the Poore has lost , Reader , the Poore shall tell thee to their cost . He was the Cripples Staffe ; the blind mans Eye , The Lawyers Curb , the Clients Chauncery . He priz'd the world , with things that had no price A Paul to vertue , and a Saul to vice ; A painfull Planter , for the poore to gather ; The Widows Husband and the Orphans Father . 'T is He , 't is He , whose honorable Dust Our eyes embalme , and tender to the trust Of thanklesse earth , whose relamented death Estates our griefe , and lends a secret breath To our faint Quill . 'T is He , whose righteous Balance did while-ere Deale Iustice so , as if Astraea were Return'd from heav'n , or Saturns conqu'ring hand Had new regain'd his long usurp'd Command From his deposed Son : His heart was Stone To pleading Vice , and Wax to every Grone : His Wisdome , Bounty , Love , and Zeale did rise , Like those foure Springs , that watred Paradise , And with their fruitfull Tides did overflow This glorious Island , on whose banks doe grow Faire Grifit of Honor , fragrant Flow'rs of Peace , Full Crops of plenty , laden with increase . Who shares not in our griefe ? what eye forbeares To be a willing Partner in our teares ? What friend of Goodnesse will not claime a part In our great losse ? or not entaile his heart To plenteous Passion so , that Babes unborne May hold our Lordships with a Clause to mourne : But stay ! what need , what need we presse a teare , When every eye becomes a Volunteire ? Thus wrapt in shades of night , in sheets of Lead , See , see , our noble Senator lies dead ; Whom Art and Nature , and diviner Grace , Made far more honourable then his place : His earth-transcending thoughts , thought scorn to take Joy in earths Honor , where few years could make So flat a Period : His aspiring mind Was free of heav'n , disdain'd to be confin'd ; Who finding earth accustom'd to deprive Of Honor giv'n ( not having more to give ) He bid Goodnight , and sweetly fell asleep , So left the world , so left us here to weep . Thus dy'd our noble Caesar , whose high story Of earths Advancement prov'd his step to Glory ; Our joys goe with him , whilst sad we return To lay his Ashes in his peacefull Vrne . Rest glorious Soule , ( whose now untwisted Cable Has past the Needles eye ) whilst we bedable Our cheeks in Brine , that ev'n almost repine At those eternall joyes which now are thine ; O pardon those , whose floods of nature would Ev'n waft thee from thy Glory , if they could , And land thee in this Vale of Teares , to tast That bitter Potion that thy soule has past . But we have done ; our whining breath shall cease Longer to vi'late thy invi'late peace . Now blessed Saint , enjoy the free Reward Of all thy works ; Possesse those Ioyes prepar'd For thy faire Soule ; put on th' eternall Wreath Of glory , promis'd to thy faithfull death , Repleat thy self with everlasting Manna , And let thy voice exchange her late Hosanna For joyfull Allelujahs , now a Guest Call'd to the Lambs perpetuall Mariage feast . FINIS .