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POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 SIR DAVID MURRAY 
 
 OF GORTHY. 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 REPRINTED BY JAMES BALLANTYNE AND CO. 
 MDCCCXXIII. 
 

THIS THE SECOND IMPRESSION OF 
 
 THE POEMS OF SIB DAVID MVRRAY, 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 p AND PRESENTED 
 
 TO 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT OF ABBOTSFORD, 
 
 AND TO 
 
 THE OTHER MEMBERS 
 
 OF 
 
 %f)t Mmmtyxit Club, 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS KINNEAR. 
 
 641488 
 
THE BANNATYNE CLVB, 
 
 FEBRUARY MDCCCXXIII. 
 
 SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart 
 
 THOMAS THOMSON, ESQ. VICE-PRESIDENT, 
 
 THE LORD CHIEF BARON OF SCOTLAND, 
 
 THE LORD CHIEF COMMISSIONER OF THE JURY COURT, 
 
 LORD BANNATYNE, 
 
 SIR WILLIAM ARBUTHNOT, BART. 
 
 JAMES BALLANTYNE, ESQ. 
 
 ROBERT BELL, ESQ. 
 
 JOHN CLERK, ESQ. 
 
 HENRY COCKBURN, ESQ. 
 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE, ESQ. 
 
 DAVID CONSTABLE, ESQ; 
 
 ROBERT DUNDAS, ESQ. 
 
 ROBERT GRAHAM, ESQ. 
 
 HENRY JARDINE, ESQ. 
 
 THOMAS KINNEAR, ESQ. 
 
 DAVID LAING, ESQ. 
 
 REVEREND DOCTOR JOHN LEE, 
 
 JAMES MAIDMENT, ESQ. 
 
 GILBERT LAING MEASON, ESQ. 
 
 JOHN ARCHIBALD MURRAY, ESQ. 
 
 ROBERT PITCAIRN, ESQ. 
 
 JAMES SKENE, ESQ. 
 
 GEORGE SMYTHE, ESQ. 
 
 PATRICK FRASER TYTLER, ESQ. 
 
MEMBERS ADMITTED 
 
 25th NOVEMBER, 1823. 
 
 THE EARL OF MINTO, 
 GEORGE CHALMERS, ESQ. 
 WILLIAM BLAIR, ESQ. 
 J. T. GIBSON CRAIG, ESQ. Jun. 
 ANDREW SKENE, ESQ. 
 THOMAS MAITLAND, ESQ. 
 
This Reprint of the only editions of Sir David Murray's Pokms extant, 
 has been made from copies in the Library of the University of Edinburgh, 
 which were given to that Institution by William Drummond of Hawthorn- 
 den, to whom they had been presented by the Author. The University copy 
 of the Paraphrase or the 104th Psalm is believed to be unique. 
 
 The Poems printed in 1611, have been collated with a copy in the Library 
 of the Faculty of Advocates. The scarcity of the Volume is so great, that a 
 copy of it, in 1819, at the sale of Mr Bindley's Library, produced the sum of 
 Thirty-two Guineas. 
 
 Sir David Murray of Gorthy was a younger son of Murray of Abercair- 
 ney, by a daughter of Murray of TuUibardine. He is best known as the tutor 
 and friend of Prince Henry, the eldest son of James VI., and is mentioned 
 by numerous contemporary authors as a man of learning, accomplishments, and 
 virtue. Henry's advancement in these is well known to those acquainted with 
 the history of the period ; and his affectionate attachment to Murray has been 
 recorded in many circumstances of Henry's life, from his boyhood to the time 
 of his premature and unhappy decease. 
 
J^ 
 
To the high and mighty Prince, 
 
 Henry Prince of Wales, Duke 
 
 of Cornwall and Rothfay, Knight 
 
 of the moji noble order of the 
 
 Garter, 
 
 THrife Noble Prince, by birth, by blood, by fame, 
 Renown'd by all, whom all men do adore. 
 Not fo much lou'd for greatneffe of your name. 
 As for thofe vertues does your name decore : 
 Young Hceros, whofe hagroick aftions fore 
 Beyond the limits of your yet-fpent yeares, 
 Braue flately minde, wherein this time doth glore, 
 Whofe praifes prayfing parts, the world admires : 
 Vnder the fliadow of your Eagles wings, 
 (Since no where elfe Ihe can for fafety flie) 
 My humble Mufe, moft royall impe of Kings, 
 In tragick verfe, prefents your Princely eye. 
 With a true flory of a Queenes fad cafe. 
 Who gaue her life to flee a foule difgrace. 
 
 Another to the Prince, 
 
 EVen as the Eagle through the empty Ikie, 
 Conuoies her young ones on her foaring wings, 
 Aboue the azur'd vaults, till fliee them brings. 
 Where they on Phoebus glorious beames may pry : 
 So (mighty Prince) my Mufe now foares on high, 
 Aboue the vulgar reach, to higher fpheares, 
 
 A 2 With 
 
With this fcarfe ripened Eaglet-birth of hers, 
 
 Vnto the view of your Maieftiek eye, 
 
 But if it hap, as hap, I feare, it fhall, 
 
 Shee may not bide your cenfures dazeling touch, 
 
 The higher flight, the more renowned fall. 
 
 It fhall fuffice, that her attempt was fuch. 
 
 But if in ought Ihee pleafe your Princely view. 
 Then fhee attaines the marke, at which fhe flew. 
 
 Your Highneffe moft loyall 
 and afFedionate feruant. 
 
 Da: Mvrray. 
 
The Argument of this Poeme. 
 
 AT what time that great and fatall enemy of 
 Rome, Hannibal (after that he had wonne thofe 
 memorable and famous battels of Ticenum^ 
 Trebefa, Thracimen, and Cannes) had ouer-run 
 and fubdued the mojl part of all Italy, putting 
 Rome her f elf e into a mar uellous fear e to haue beene furprifed 
 if he had then followed his fortune : Of all her great Captains 
 and Commanders {fhe then had) Fabius Maximus was efiee- 
 med the mofi wife and politicise, Marcellus the mofi valiant, 
 becaufe by experience infundry confiiBs, he made the Romans 
 know, that Hannibal was not inuincible : yet of them all none 
 fo much repined to fee the Maiejiy, and greatnefje of her Jl ate 
 limited, as it zoere, zaithin her oxvne isoals ; as young Publius 
 Corn. Scipio, the fonne of that Publ. Scipio, x^lio firfi fought 
 with Hannibal at his coming into Italy, and afterwards MM, 
 valiantly fighting againfi his enemies, in Spain, with his bro- 
 ther Cne. Scipio. They both thus dead, and the army there de- 
 Jiitute of a Commander, the Senat long time confulted to find 
 out fome worthy Captaine to fupply that roome, but could find 
 no man that durfi vndertake fo dangerous a charge, confide- 
 ring the lofje of two fo great andfamous Captaines before. Til 
 at length the whole affembly beeing called, to chufe a Vice- 
 con full, all the other Princes and Peeres of the Realme being 
 filent at fo tvorthy a motion, Scipio beeing but 24. yeares of 
 age, accepted the charge, and immediately thereupon departed 
 for Spaine, which to his immortall glorie, he quickly fubdued 
 againe to the Romaine obedience ; from whence returning to 
 'Rome, he was prefently chofen Conful, with the great ioy and 
 applaufe of the people : and had Cicill affigned to him for his 
 Prouince, with power {if he pleafed) to make war in Aphrick. 
 
 A3 So 
 
The Argument. 
 
 So beeingjlirred vp therto hy the often intreaties, and great 
 promifes o/'MaffinifTa king ofNumidia, a valorous and co- 
 ragious young Prince^ and a great friend of the Romanes, he 
 leauied new forces, and Jiauing prepared Jhips and munition 
 in Sicilljitforfuch a iourney, went thither : and after many 
 fimous battels, at the lajl he ouercame Hafdrubal, and Sy- 
 phax king of the Mafccecilians ; who to enioy the beautie 
 o/*Sophoni{ba, the daughter of the fay d Hafdrubal, had but 
 lately left the Romane friendjhip, to take part with the Car- 
 thaginians ; to follow whome Scipio fent Maffinifla, with 
 Caius Laelius and his light horfe-men, whom they purfued to 
 his owne country, and there in a new coriflict tooke him prifo- 
 ner. Therecfter Maffiniffa went to Cyrtha the chiefe 
 citty of his Realme, which he took, and there at the firjl view 
 became enamoured with the matchlejfe and incomparable 
 beauty of Sophonifba, whom not only he promifed to free fro 
 Romane bondage, but alfo tooke her to his wife : which Sci- 
 pio vnderjianding, Jharply rebukes him for his fault, telling 
 him, that no Romane confederate was able to giue libertie to 
 aprifoner taken by the Romane armes, who heauily regrating 
 his offence, to fo courteous and continent a Captaine, and la- 
 menting, hee could not obferue his promife to Sophonifba, 
 fends her a cup qfpoyfon, with a letter, Jhewing her, hee could 
 not elfe obferue his faith giuen to her but by that potion, which 
 Jhe immediately drinks, topreuent all further mifery,andgiues 
 me the Argument of this Poeme, 
 
 To 
 
To my huing Qoufin Da: Murray. 
 
 FAire Sophomjba on her tragike ftage, 
 (To death, or bondage worfe then death defign'd) 
 Doth fliew the greatnefle of a proud grieu'd minde, 
 Th' ambitious thoughts of Scipio to affwage : 
 With courage farre aboue her fex and age, 
 She quafs the cup her loue-fick Lord propin'd, 
 By which although her liues-thred was vntwyu'd. 
 Yet fhe triumphs aboue the Roman rage : 
 Thrice happy Queene, and more then happy thrice, 
 Who finds a rare Phyfition with fuch Ikil, 
 To rob the Fates of thee there lawfull prize. 
 By vertue of his euer-liuing quil, 
 
 And makes that poyfon which bereft thy breath. 
 
 By power of his pen, to poyfon death. 
 
 Your louing Coujin. 
 
 lOHN MVRRAY. 
 
 To my Mndejriend Da: Murray. 
 
 IN new attire (and put moft neatly on) 
 Thou Murray mak'ft thy paffionate Queene apeare. 
 As when flie fat on the Numidian throne, 
 Deck'd with thofe Gems that moll refulgent were. 
 So thy ftronge mufe her maker like repaires. 
 That from the ruins of her wafted vrne. 
 Into a body of delicious ayres : 
 Againe her fpirit doth tranfmigrated turne, 
 That fcortching foile which thy great fubiedl bore. 
 Bred thofe that coldly but exprefd her merit, 
 
 But 
 
But breathing now vpon our colder fhore, 
 
 Here fhee hath found a noble fiery fpirit, 
 Both there, and here, fo fortunate for Fame, 
 That what flie was, Ihe's euery where the fame. 
 
 M. Drayton, 
 
 To my deerejriend Da: Murray. 
 
 FAme (flaue to Time) ftill flying here and there, 
 Tels what fad wonders in this world hath beene, 
 Wrought with the tragike pencil of difpaire. 
 Which doth nought eKe but horri'*d woes containe, 
 Braue Sophonijba, faire, and flately Queene 
 Whom Murrays wits, for vertue, now adores. 
 None but this age her (matchleffe) like hath feene 
 And none fo high, her well deferuing fores : 
 For what fhee loft, his Mufe againe reftores, 
 Her life adornes his euer-liuing Unes 
 His pen, her praife, each other ftill decores. 
 So in her worth, his verfe, moft brightly fliines : 
 Faire Queene whofe death did end the Romans ftrife, 
 Hath made his Mufe giue her a brauer life. 
 
 Simon Grahame. 
 
 The 
 
The Tragicall Death of 
 Sophonisba. 
 
 SAD MaJJiniJfa^ fwoolne with griefe and rage, 
 When all his credit feru'd not to intreat 
 His braue victorious friend, to dif-ingage 
 His late-fpouf'd Lady from a feruile ftate : 
 Halfe mad, diftraught, confuFdly doth hee write. 
 To fhow, the Romaine Conqueror thinks to fend 
 Her as a flaue his triumph to attend. 
 
 But lo (quoth he) t'auoyd this vnkind doome, 
 And that my oath vn-uiolate remaine. 
 Made once to thee, thou neuer fliouldll fee Rome : 
 That her proud Dames might glory in thy paine, 
 And point their fingers at thee in difdaine : 
 I fend thee here a potion with my letters, 
 To faue my faith from foyle, and thee from fetters. 
 
 Yet if my vnfain'd tears can haue the force, 
 
 (Deare Idoll of my foule) with thee fo much, 
 
 I pray thee onely haue this fmall remorfe 
 
 Of thine owne life, this cup thou neuer touch. 
 
 Till that thou fee thy haplefs fortune fuch 
 
 As nothing elfe can ferue : I fay (though loth) 
 Drinke this to faue thine honor, and my oth. 
 
 B In 
 
The Trdgicall Death 
 
 In this meane time il' labour with thy foe, 
 
 In whofe afliftance I haue fpent my bloud, 
 
 To pitty thy eflate, and eafe my woe, 
 
 In the releafing of thy feruitude ; 
 
 Which if his gentle Nature Ihall thinke good, 
 Straight you fhall know, if hee refufe, too foone, 
 Thefe lines, aye me ! haue faid what fliould be done. 
 
 Thus hauing written, with a fighing fpirit, 
 
 Hee foulds thofe blacke newes in a fnow- white flieet, 
 
 Vtt'ring thefe fpeeches, to the fcroll ; her merit 
 
 Deferu'd a better prefent then this writ : 
 
 Yet fhall flie fee fo rare a thing in it, 
 
 From feruitude and fhame fliall faue her now, 
 
 And likewife me from a polluted vow. 
 
 Then quickly cals he vnto him a poft, 
 
 Whofe fecrecy he oftimes vf 'd to proue, 
 
 Whom ftraight-waies he commands to leaue the hofte. 
 
 And beare thefe gifts of death vnto his loue ; 
 
 Who doth no fooner from his fight remoue. 
 
 But ftraight his confcience fummons out his fadl, 
 T' appeare before him in a fliape moft blacke. 
 
 Behold the refolutions of man. 
 
 How vnaduifdly, fometimes, they proceed 
 
 Breeding repentance oftimes, when they can 
 
 Not bringe a backe that which they once decreed ; 
 
 Th' al-ruling heauens being the caufe indeed. 
 
 Which fcorning humane wifdome lets vs know, 
 
 The imperfections of our thoughts below. 
 
 For 
 
Of Sophonijha. 
 
 For loe this Prince who lately thought his faith, 
 
 And his fweet Ladies liberty to ftand, 
 
 In the poft-fpeedy afting of her death, 
 
 Which made him this fad meflage to command, 
 
 Which being paft he rewes it out of hand. 
 But can not now remend it, which is worfe, 
 „ Too late repentance euer breeds remorfe. 
 
 The meffenger whom time and vfe had learn'd, 
 
 Obfequious duty to his maillers will, 
 
 Hafls to his iourney, hauing not difcern'd, 
 
 The foddaine paffion that his foule did kill : 
 
 Each cannot gaze a Princes breaft intill. 
 
 Whofe outward ieftures feldome doe bewray, 
 
 Thofe inward griefes, whereon there thoughts doe prey. 
 
 So ift with him who on his iourney goes, 
 Thinking on nothing but a quick returne, 
 Leaning his maifter fo o'r-come with woes, 
 That downe he lies vpon his bed to mourne : 
 Whofe fcalding iighes which inwardly doe burne, 
 The perly conduites of his teares vp dries, 
 As Phcdbus drinks the May dew from the Ikies. 
 
 It was the time by this the poll departed, 
 That golden Phoebus hides his glorious beames. 
 Low in the Wefterne Ocean, when vncarted : 
 His neighing fteeds leauing their wearied teames, 
 Whofe mouthes through trauell yet the froth out fumes, 
 
 Goes to their nightly manger, and their guide, 
 
 In Thetis lap his hoary head did hide. 
 B2 
 
The Tragkall Death 
 
 A fable darkeneffe did the earth oVefhed, 
 And bufie labourers left their dayly toile : 
 Way-faring Pilgrims wifhed peryods made 
 To that dayes iourney, wearied with turmoile, 
 The pearly dew befprinkled all the foile : 
 
 And chafte Diana gan for to arife, 
 
 And thnift her forked head into the Ikies. 
 
 Both man and beaft, and all the fowles that flies, 
 Betooke them to the nights delighting eafe : 
 Nothing did flirre, faue that the trembling trees, 
 Did by their Ihakings little whifprings raife : 
 The filuer ftreames Aide foftly by their braife. 
 
 And fauing wronged Philomell, that wept 
 
 Her wofull rape, each other creature flept. 
 
 The Heauens were calme, imbrodered with flarres, 
 The earth was filent, and the feas at reft, 
 Eole and Neptune left their wonted warres, 
 And as companions for that night embraced, 
 And if it were not mindes with griefe oppreft, 
 
 Whofe carefuU thoughts are ftill renewed by night, 
 
 A drowfie flumber did poffefle each wight. 
 
 And well this folitary time did fit, 
 
 The griefe-opprefled minde of this great Lord, 
 
 Who now almoft diftrad of fence and wit, 
 
 His loues eftate fuch paffions do afFoord, 
 
 That he has fcarfely power to breath one word ; 
 
 „ For greateft forrowes oft-times hold their peace, 
 
 „ While little grieues to prattle neuer ceafe. 
 
 His 
 
Of Soplwnijba. 
 
 His toung into his throates deepe center flies, 
 
 In filence there for euer to abide, 
 
 Likewife, afliamed of the light, his eyes 
 
 Within their luory couerlets them hide. 
 
 From thence againe, nere thinking to be fpide, 
 For fince the light of his defires was gone, 
 He thought no light was to be look't vpon. 
 
 Nothing he heares but ftraight affrights his eares. 
 Each thing he feeles and touches, breeds him terror : 
 Without benum^d of fenfe, within his feares 
 Perplexe his minde, with ougly Ihapes of horror. 
 His confcience ftill vpbraides him, with his error, 
 Firft of the making of his vowe, and next. 
 That found fo fowle a meane to keepe it fixt. 
 
 Ten thoufand sundry thoughts at once moleft him. 
 In diuerfe formes prefenting diuers woes, 
 The harmleffe bed wherein he lyes to reft him, 
 Of his paft deed he thinkes the fondneffe ihowes, 
 His cares growne big with many bitter throwes, 
 Seeke for deliuery from his griefe fwolne brest. 
 Which in the birth dye fmoothered and oppreft. 
 
 He burnes, he fwels, he turnes, and takes no reft, 
 With anger, rage, with griefe, and reftleffe groanes. 
 So great a malTe of forrowes him oppreft. 
 As now the world deliuered, he fuppones. 
 And free exempt from cares, releaFd of moanes. 
 Her fpacious face fo oft before had troubled, 
 And all laide now on him, yea more then doubled. 
 
 B3 His 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 His forrow-filent-ftricken-toung, cannot 
 
 Keepe back the paffage of his fighes, no more 
 
 Which fo affailes it, that it leaues his throate, 
 
 Returning thither whence it fled before, 
 
 While comming to his breath's faire luory doore, 
 It begs a pafport from his lips of new, 
 To thofe greefe-boyling fighes which fo purfue. 
 
 But they like volleys, willing to be wrocken, 
 On it poore toung, that ftaid their courfe fo long, 
 Diforderly do march, their rankes being broken 
 All would be firfl for to reueng their wrong, 
 Euen as wee fee a mad vnruly throng. 
 
 Of countrey Clownes, to fack fome bordering towne, 
 Run fwarming from the hills and mountaines downe. 
 
 Or as a Chriftall current, that is flaid. 
 
 To pay his debtfull tribute to the fea. 
 
 His channell ftopt, whereby his course delayd, 
 
 He's forft a back vnto his fourfe to flye. 
 
 Till that his flreames increaf'd, he growes fo high. 
 
 That ouer bankes and braies he runs a maine, 
 
 Impetuoufly vnto the fea againe. 
 
 So his vnruly fighes all head-long follow, 
 Each ftriuing firft who fliall preuent an other : 
 But his throats entry being ftraight and hollow. 
 And they in number numberleflie come thither. 
 Cannot affbord them paffage altogether. 
 
 While ftriuing for the place each in difdaine, 
 
 Sends one another fmothered back againe. 
 
 His 
 
Of Sophonijha. 
 
 His eyes which all this time inelofed lye, 
 
 Gazing vpon the motions of the thought : 
 
 How foone thofe ciuill broyles they do efpye, 
 
 That forrow had to his mindes kingdome brought, 
 
 No longer in their Couerletts they mought 
 
 Behould the tragick view of their friends dying, 
 But ftraight retires them to their former being. 
 
 His toung and eyes now com'd to their owne place, 
 
 It enters to complaine, and they to weepe. 
 
 For lince the ardor of his lighes did ceafe. 
 
 The humid vapours which his heart did keepe, 
 
 Vnboyld by them, to his eyes cefterns creepe. 
 
 From thence vpon his tender cheekes downe hopps. 
 Hanging hke Perles vpon his soft-downe cropps. 
 
 And after long fpent tears, his toung at length 
 In pittious fort thofe wofuU words did breath, 
 Wretch'd MaJJimJfa, had thou not the ftrength. 
 To faue one poore diftreffed Dame from death, 
 Brought vnder by vnconftant fortunes wrath ? 
 
 Who onely vnder fafety of thy ihield, 
 
 Poore Lady, life and Uberty did yeeld. 
 
 And that on fuch a couenant alaffe, 
 Shee thee ingag"'d thefe Jewels of her minde. 
 That thou fliould ftill preferue her from difgrace. 
 Which thou to doe, thy felfe by oath didft binde, 
 O cruell, cruell, thoufand times vnkinde. 
 
 That could not elfe obferue thy pafled faith. 
 
 But by thy hapleffe louers wofull death. 
 
 B 4 Ah ! 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Ah ! who had feene her, when thou didft behold her, 
 Heauing her faire and fnow-white hands to thee. 
 Craning thy pitty, as thy felfe then told her, 
 (Though in th' extreameft ftate of mifery) 
 Became much rather her fweete felfe to bee 
 A pitty giuer, then to beg the fame. 
 That fo with lookes the conqueror ouer-came. 
 
 Throwne downe by fortune, plung'd in deepe diftrefle, 
 Crofd with afflidion, ouer-come with forrow : 
 Touch"'d with each paffion, could a minde oppreffe ; 
 Captiu''d or night, that was a Queene at morrow, 
 Yet her fweet looks, though fad fweet looks did borrow. 
 Both pitty, and compaffion, to her griefe, 
 Deferring prefent euill, t'a worfe mifchiefe. 
 
 Vindiftiue thoughts, calamity and care. 
 
 Foes vnto beauty, maiefty, and grace. 
 
 Made her not feeme leffe beautifuU, leffe faire, 
 
 For though that forrow feem'd to maike her face. 
 
 Yet her faire eyes, as if they fcorn'd difgrace. 
 
 Whiles floods of liquid pearls down fro them powres, 
 Did glance like Phoebus rayes in Aprill {howres. 
 
 Ay me ! vnhappy, thus to minde her rarieties, 
 To which all hearts and eyes did owe their feauty, 
 Whiles all her vertues (as conteiling parties ;) 
 Doe now vpbraid me with the breach of duty. 
 For had flie not beene of fuch birth and beauty ; 
 And alwayes matchleffe-excellent, God knowes, 
 Her mifchiefes had beene leffe, and leffe my woes. 
 
 For 
 
Of Soplionijba. 
 
 For, oh ! this grieues me more then death ten-fold, 
 To thinke that one of fuch defert must dye. 
 And that I haue not power to controul't. 
 Yea that I mull the author thereof be. 
 Oh wondrous ! wondrous contrariety ! 
 
 Oh wofuU chance ! griefe pall compare to giue 
 
 Death to that life, by which I onely liue. 
 
 Oh this it is torments my martyrd minde, 
 
 That my vnhappy delliny is fuch. 
 
 To prooue moll cruell, where I would moll kinde : 
 
 Is this th' effect ? 6 gods ! of louing much. 
 
 If it be fo, let neuer loue more touch 
 
 The plagued heart of fuch a wofuU wretch, 
 
 Curll be that loue that cruelty doth hatch. 
 
 Sweete Sophonijba^ when thou flaalt receiue, 
 That hateful! potion, which I now haue fent thee ; 
 It will not grieue thee halfe fo much to leaue 
 (I know the heauens fo great a fpirit haue lent thee) 
 Thy lingring life, as that it will repent thee. 
 Thou was not kild in that vnhappy day, 
 When in proud Cyriha thou became my prey. 
 
 For had thou then by rage of vidors wrath, 
 Beene cruelly kild by force of Sword or Dart, 
 More happy thrice had beene thy haplelTe death. 
 And gladlier might thy Gholl to Styx depart. 
 Nor left to dye by one to whom thy heart 
 
 Thou gaue in pledge of liberty and life. 
 
 Who fau'd a captiue Queene to kill a wife. 
 
 But 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 But now to die when life was moft airur''d 
 By oath and promife feal'd with wedlockes knot, 
 An heauy burdning n'ere to be indur"'d, 
 Detefted fa£t which cannot be forgott, 
 Haynous offence which neuer Time Ihall blot : 
 But that it flxall, by all-relating fame, 
 Fly through the world to my eternall Ihame. 
 
 Why did I not fore-warne thee at thy taking, 
 Freely to death or bondage to giue place ? 
 But then (alas) was no fuch bargain e making, 
 For the nere-Uke-feene beauty of thy face, 
 Bewitcht me then with fuch inchanting grace, 
 
 That in defpite of all the Romane fwords, 
 
 I vow''d thy fafety and defence by words. 
 
 Which oh ! hath prou'd a weake and ftrengthleffe vow, 
 Affoording nothing vnto thee but death : 
 For had thou daign'd thy haughty heart to bow 
 To th' meaneft fouldier that our Legions hath, 
 He rather would haue facrifiz"'d his breath. 
 Or that he would haue fuffered thee to bee 
 Vs'd by conftraint, much leffe haue feene thee die. 
 
 But I much more then common fouldiers be : 
 
 A Captaine, a Commander, and a King, 
 
 Whom Fortune in her grace aduanc"'d fo high, 
 
 That mighty Princes I to bands did bring, 
 
 Cannot (alas) O to be wondred thing ! 
 
 Thee poore diftreffed Dame from bondage fliield, 
 Who to none lining but my felfe would yeeld. 
 
 Thou 
 
Of Sopfionijba. 
 
 Thou neither life, nor kingdome didll implore, 
 Nor yet thy hufband Syphax his releefe, 
 Nor that they would thy royalty reftore, 
 Nor that thy followers might auoide mifchiefe, 
 No, hapleffe Queene, this was thy onely griefe. 
 And wofull fute, that to no Romaine borne, 
 Thou might be giu'n to liue in feruile fcorne. 
 
 Innated hatred, bred in either blood, 
 
 Of Carthaginian and of Romaine race, 
 
 Farre worfe then death, feare of their feruitude, 
 
 Made thee alas, to thinke it leiTe difgrace. 
 
 To haue beene facrificed in that place. 
 
 By fome — bloud guilty hand, nor liu'd a Queene, 
 In chaines of gold, in Romes faire Citty feene. 
 
 Which made thee to relye thy hopes on me. 
 Whom neighbourhood and nature did combine, 
 Com'd of Italian bloud by no degree. 
 But of that ancient great Numidian line. 
 Which euer at Romes greatnefle did repine : 
 
 And moft of all, this one thing mou'd thy minde. 
 
 That I was theirs by chance, and not by kinde. 
 
 And on my part much more did challenge loue, 
 Then countrey, blood, or birth, or high degree, 
 Maiefticke courage, beauty, grace, did mooue. 
 And plead compaffion in the cruelleft eye. 
 Hard Tygrifh harted, and remorfelelTe hee. 
 
 Hearing thy fighes and plaints, veiwing thy teares. 
 Would not haue freed the fcorning world of feares. 
 
 Is 
 
Tlie Tragicall Death 
 
 Is death a ioynter equall to thy dower ? 
 
 Should fuch a beauty be bereft of breath ? 
 
 But feeble MaJJimJfa fee thy power, 
 
 Behold the fruites are fruftrate of thy faith. 
 
 Who couldfl not faue a Lady faire from death, 
 To whom (alas) were left no other meanes. 
 But fhe muft die a Queene, or Hue in chaines. 
 
 O Liberty ! too dearely, dearely bought 
 At fuch a rate, fo ranfom'd and obtain'd, 
 And who procures you fo, may well be thought 
 Of his owne life too prodigall a friend : 
 
 cruell freedome ! that muft be maintained 
 By blouds expence, and by no other way, 
 As this vnhappy wretched Queene may fay. 
 
 • Yet wronged Lady, thou art not to blame, 
 Now to exchange thy life for liberty : 
 
 1 muft fuftaine the blot thereof with ftiame, 
 As th' onely author of thy miferie ; 
 Happy, (though haples I) thou ay ftialt be, 
 
 For thy braue mind into renowne be had. 
 Though ftill detefted I who thee betrayd. 
 
 What fhall the world and comming ages fpeake, 
 When they fliall read the ftory of thy fall ? 
 Shall they not fweare that I might iuftly breake 
 To flinty Scipio, and the Romaines all ? 
 A traytor to my heart they fliall me call : 
 
 To thee but mercy : cruell, and vnkind, 
 
 And iuftly all to me may be afligu'd. 
 
 Both 
 
Of Sophonijha. 
 
 Both to my Deare vngratefull, and to Nature 
 
 I Ihall be thought (alas) for euer Hill, 
 
 That furnifht death, vnto fo rare a creature, 
 
 Whom euen Deaths felfe did pitty (oh) to kill : 
 
 O to be thought-of-memorable ill ! 
 
 Which by no trad of time fliall be forgotten, 
 But Ihall grow euer greene, when it feemes rotten. 
 
 What refts there then (detefted wretch) to thee ? 
 But that thou find out fome repairelelTe place 
 To waile thy woes : but whither Ihalt thou flie 
 To faue thee from the fting of thy difgrace ? 
 For no where great Apollo fliowes his face, 
 
 To Indus, Tagus, Tay, nor Nilus ftreame, 
 
 But all Ihall know vile MaJJiniJJcCs Ihame. 
 
 Mourne foorth thy fliame with neuer-ftanching teares. 
 Sigh for thy error till thy heart be broken, 
 Acquaint thy wrong to Tygers, Wolfes, and Beares, 
 Whofe quenchles thirft of blood, thy blood may flocken, 
 That fo thy fault may be feuerely wrocken : 
 And for thy beaftly cruelty, that they 
 To ftanch their hunger, on thy corps may prey. 
 
 But if more pitty in their fauage hearts, 
 
 There be nor was in thy remorflelTe mind, 
 
 Thinke that the fame nought els to thee imparts. 
 
 But as thou nature, fo theyl paffe their kind, 
 
 Which being to rapine and to bloud inclined. 
 Yet leaft it were a benefite to thee. 
 From tortring thoughts deny thy foule to free. 
 
 And 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 And fometimes while the Turtle moanes her make, 
 With many a heauie, flirill, and piteous crie, 
 Leaning her foft breft to a withered flake, 
 Still craning death, (poore bird) but cannot die : 
 No other beail neere-hand, nor no fowle nye. 
 
 Who hauing loft her loue, doth hate repaire, 
 
 Be thou her Eccho to refound her care. 
 
 Sing thou the treble to her mournfuU fongs, 
 Reply her fad notes with thy dying grones, 
 While Ihe bewailes her griefes, bewaile thy wrongs, 
 And as flie fits on prickes, fit thou on ftones : 
 This fympathie flxall beft become your moanes ; 
 
 This harmony of neuer-dying playnts, 
 
 Beft fits the humors of fuch male-contents. 
 
 This Purgatorie-penance to endure, 
 
 With patience thy felfe till death content, 
 
 Into thofe defarts where thou muft immure 
 
 Thy errors euerlafting penitent, 
 
 Ne're finding one with whom thou maift frequent ; 
 Vnlefle thou hap vpon fome homely cell. 
 Where Pilgrims haunt and hoary Hermits dwel. 
 
 Liue then this death, or rather dye this life, 
 Let it be death to liue, and life to die : 
 Let thy owne foule be with thy foule at ftrife : 
 Let thy owne heart, thy hearts own bourreau be, 
 Let all the euils on earth triumph in thee. 
 
 Let ftill thy felfe be of thefe euils the worft, 
 
 In adions all, in life, in death accurft. 
 
 Thus 
 
Of Soplumijba. 
 
 Thus al the night he did his plaints renew. 
 
 Mourning his fweet loues wofull miferie : 
 
 And now the Morning lent a loath'd adew, 
 
 Till amorous Titan in a fcarlet die, 
 
 And the fwift-winged Confort mounting high, 
 Tun'd out their fweetefl warbles in the Ikies, 
 Till Phoebus wakened with their reftleffe cries. 
 
 Who peece and peece his golden head vp-heaues 
 Aboue th' vnconftant watry liquid Maine, 
 There weeping Memnons loffe, Aurora leaues, 
 Whofe teares for pittie he quafFes vp againe, 
 Which all the night bedewed had each plaine : 
 The tender graffe feem'd by their withered crops, 
 To waile the wanting of thefe holefome drops. 
 
 And now the Light (expelling darkneffe) fliin'd 
 Through Sophonijbd^s chamber where flie lay, 
 Who all this night was moft extreamly pin'd, 
 With vgly vifions did her mind affray. 
 That fhe can nought difcerne : if it be day. 
 
 She thinkes Ihe dreames that which fhe waking fees, 
 
 Scarfe if fhe will giue credit to her eyes. 
 
 But whether that accuflomated time. 
 
 Or then the loathing of a refllefTe refl, 
 
 Or of imagination of fome crime. 
 
 The waking Sent'nell of each carefuU brefl : 
 
 Or then the nature of a mind opprefl : 
 
 Made her to know't, or if that all in one. 
 
 But now fhe finds the night away is gone. 
 
 Then 
 
The Tragkall Death 
 
 Then enters fhe for to bethinke what end, 
 The Oracles imported fhe had dream''d, 
 To which her fancies Commentar's do lend, 
 Direct contrare to that they had proclaimed, 
 To apprehend the worft flie is afham^d : 
 
 Loue makes her iudge of things in fuch degree, 
 
 Not as they were, but as fhe wifht to bee. 
 
 But now f auoyd thofe ominous conceits 
 
 Sleepe did afford, fhe quickly vp arofe, 
 
 Leaning the fnow-white, foft, and lawny fheets, 
 
 Impouerifh'd thereby t' enrich her does, 
 
 Which to prefage her worfer-comming woes, 
 That day by fortune were of colour blacke : 
 And thus vnwares deaths liuery fhe doth take. 
 
 In which her heart-bereauing beauty fhin'd. 
 
 Like faire Diana in the fable night. 
 
 Or like a polifht Diamond of Ind, 
 
 Set in blacke let, to giue a glance more bright. 
 
 Or like the great bright Patterne of the light. 
 
 When that his glorious gliftering beames do chafe 
 Some ouer-fhadowing cloudes that mafke his face. 
 
 Her conquering eyes were in ambufcad layd 
 Of golden glittering haire, where twinkling they 
 Send foorth fuch dazeling glances from that fhade, 
 As Phoehus brighter neuer did difplay : 
 There wanton Cupid fporting himfelfe lay. 
 
 In thofe pure flreames, which from thofe eyes diflifd. 
 From whence vn-wares the haughtiefl hearts he kifd. 
 
 Her 
 
Of Sophmiijba. 
 
 Her fmooth cheekes whiter then the whiteft lawne, 
 
 Or winter fnowes which couer Atlas face, 
 
 Where Nature artificially had drawne, 
 
 Her fairer nofe, that fairer part to grace : 
 
 On whofe each fide a little difliant fpace, 
 Vermillion Rofes, and fweet Lillies grew, 
 Which checkered that faire field with crimfon hew. 
 
 Her teeth like rankes of orientall pearle. 
 With corrall died lips were compaf 'd round, 
 From whence farre fweeter then the well tun'd merle : 
 Her heart-bereauing tongue did foftly found : 
 Words of fuch force the flintieft heart to wound. 
 
 Her baulmy breath, in worth, in tafl:e, in fmell. 
 
 Did ciuet, mulke, and amber- greaze excell. 
 
 Her dimpled chinne (loues cabinet) where he, 
 To gaze on hidden beauty oft repar''d. 
 Their fat the wanton, and with lufting eye, 
 Now on her breaft, now on her belly ftar'd : 
 Whofe amorous foule with fuch hid ioyes infnar'd. 
 
 Betwixt her milky globes Ikipt oft from thence, 
 
 A littler lower to delight his fence. 
 
 Her marble necke did vnder-prop thofe graces, 
 
 Which from her line ftraight-body ftately fprung. 
 
 Her foulding armes into there feuerall places, 
 
 Clofe by her tender dainty fides downe hung : 
 
 From whence her fnow white hands, fmooth, fleeke, and long, 
 In luory colums, did themfelues forth fpread, 
 Whofe fmalleft touch the heauieft heart could glad. 
 
 C Her 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Her breafl the cabbin of her Princely minde, 
 Whereon two alablafter globes were fixt, 
 Whofe wounding afpect the beholders pin''de : 
 Being heere and there with azur'd veines commix t, 
 To tell her other rar'ties were prolixt. 
 
 Imagine all her clothes of criftall glaffe, 
 
 Where eyes cannot, let apprehenfion pafle. 
 
 But liuely to expreffe her right Idea, 
 
 And in a word her matchlelTe parts to tell, 
 
 Such was fweet Sidneis faire, faire Philoclea, 
 
 When her braue riuals at contention fel " 
 
 By Ladons ftreames, yet ours did her excel. 
 In that his braine but dream'^d of fuch as Ihe, 
 Ours was that which, his braine dream'd her to bee. 
 
 Thus deckt (fweet Lady) both by Art and Nature, 
 
 Viewd, woundred at, admired by each eie. 
 
 She leaues her chamber like fome heauenly creature, 
 
 Adorn'd with all the pompe of Maiefty, 
 
 But ah ! who can auoide the Fates decree ? 
 
 What power can flie death, when he lift to ftrike. 
 
 In court and cottage priuiledg'd a like ? 
 
 Nor doth this breath-bereauing monfter keepe, 
 A certaine diet, or appointed date. 
 For fometime they who moft fecurely fleepe, 
 Who doe on nothing leffe then death conceit. 
 There life then hangs into moft dangerous ftate : 
 
 For why vnwares he oftimes comes to many. 
 
 But being called for, feldome comes to any. 
 
 And 
 
Of Sophotiijba. 
 
 And when he comes, requeft, nor yet intreat, 
 With this remorfeleffe catife nought availes, 
 For when he finds aproach the fatall date : 
 The execution neuer in him failes, 
 So many kinde of waies this theefe alTailes, 
 
 That where fo eVe we goe, we walke, or fare, 
 
 Head-longs we run the poft into his fhare. 
 
 Ten thoufand diuers meanes he has, whereby 
 
 He do's deftroy this little world of man, 
 
 Sometime by naturall fickneffe makes him lie, 
 
 Till Atrop's cut the thred her filler fpan : 
 
 Sometime by fword, by pefliilence, or than * 
 
 By cruell famine, which of all is worft, 
 
 Poore filly man to quit his breath is forfl:. 
 
 He fometime ftirs vp brother againll brother 
 To cruell iarres, like earth-borne Cadmus brood, 
 And which is more vnnaturall, makes the mother 
 T' inwombe againe her child for want of food, 
 And fometime makes within the raging flood. 
 The monftrous great Balena to intombe, 
 Poore wretched man within his hollow wombe. 
 
 And in this lafl: age, mongft fo many hunders, 
 
 Of diuers kindes of inftruments he hath, 
 
 The deuill ha"'s moulded one engine that thunders 
 
 Deftruftion, ruine, horror, terrour, death ; 
 
 This mercy-wanting frame, this birth of wrath. 
 Not onely brai's to aflies, flefli and bones, 
 But ruins mountaines, hils and towers of ftones 
 
 C 2 Yet 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Yet notwithftanding all thofe diuerfe waies, 
 
 He hath referued fecret meanes, whereby, 
 
 To kill whom neither fword nor famine flaies, 
 
 Nor naturall death, nor peftilence makes die : 
 
 Nor that is swallowed by the raging fea 
 With powerfuU poifon fecret and vnfeene, 
 He can difpatch, as he did serue this Queene. 
 
 For now the poll, who, as you heard, was gone, 
 From Majpmffa io his iourney hied 
 That by the fwift pac'd horfes of the Sunne, 
 Were in their places to his Charriot tied. 
 He Sofhonijbae's palace had efpied. 
 
 And euen as from her chamber fliee did goe, 
 
 He doth his letters and his credit fliew. 
 
 But he no fooner doth approach her fight. 
 When lo her alwaies harme-mifdeeming minde. 
 Takes apprehenfion all things went not right : 
 Whether t'were that her Genius fo deuin'd, 
 Or that her thoughts fufpicioufly enclin'd. 
 
 Marking the letters date and his great fpeed, 
 
 Conieftures fome fad matter to fucceed. 
 
 Yet doth flie all that lies in her to couer. 
 
 This fuddaine feare that fo appales her heart, 
 
 And to that end aflc's for his Lord her louer : 
 
 In what good health he was, and in what part : 
 
 And with that word her ftagring tongue did thwart, 
 For the remembrance in what part he was, 
 Inforc'd her minde to fadder thoughts giue place. 
 
 Then 
 
Of Sophmiijha. 
 
 Then with a houering filence ftill flie ftands, 
 And gazes on the ground with flaring eyes, 
 The fimple fwain to fuch abrupt demaunds, 
 Ere he could anfwere long amazed ftaies ; 
 At laft with baflifull tongue he thus replies, 
 
 Your royall husband, Madam, and my Lord, 
 
 Refts in good health, as I can well record. 
 
 Of which (sayd hee) I hope his princely letter. 
 Can better far then I informe your grace. 
 I thanke thee friend (fayd fliee) but fighes did let her 
 To fay the reft, fuch was her carefull cafe : 
 Tranfported for a while, ihe held her peace. 
 
 Words killing fighes, fighes killing words againe, 
 
 So that betwixt them her difcours is flaine. 
 
 This airy combat, this debate of breath, 
 
 This fpeech reftrayning ftrife, this fighing warre 
 
 Did euen bewray what flie to fliew was laith : 
 
 And makes the carrier to difcerne her care, 
 
 Who fad to fee a beauty matchlefle faire. 
 
 In fuch a plight (poore fwaine) he fmiling told her. 
 How much his louing Lord long'd to behold her. 
 
 By fpeech and iefture fliee remarkes him then, 
 
 Vndoubted badges of a troubled minde. 
 
 And neither token, nor appeerance can 
 
 Of any harme by his behauiour find ; 
 
 So that her feares they vanifli with the winde. 
 And her difturbed thoughts of new takes hold, 
 Of better hopes which makes her fomewhat bold. 
 
 C 3 Shee 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 She takes the letter, and with fmyling cheere, 
 She opens and vnfoulds the feales with fpeed, 
 At the firft view whereof it did appeere, 
 The crimfon beauty of her cheekes did fade, 
 Which ftraight returnes into a brighter red. 
 
 In fcarlet coUour dying all her face. 
 
 Which to pale whiteneffe foone againe giues place. 
 
 But howfoe'r her bloud thus went and came, 
 Vn-interrupted fhe reads out the letter. 
 And hauing read it ftill reads o're the fame : 
 The more fhe reads, it feemes flie likes it better, 
 The ftanders-by thought it fome louely matter, 
 Which in the reading bred her fo great pleafure, 
 Leaues her alone to read it at more leafure. 
 
 Thus left, and left in fuch a taking to. 
 She takes the poyfon and remarkes it well, 
 AVhich flie could not fo vnamaz"'dly doe. 
 But that her heart a fodaine change did feele : 
 Her dazled eyes began for feare to reell, 
 
 And if that honour had not come to aide her, 
 Fraile fleflx and life to view it more had ftai'd her. 
 
 Then enters ftraight a combat in her foule. 
 Betwixt her honour and her fearefull life, 
 Life wilhes her to Ihun a death fo foule : 
 Honour by death praies her to end all ftrife : 
 Life yet intreats for refpit to her life, 
 And honour ftill protefts that in no cafe, 
 But by her death flie can avoide difgrace. 
 
 And 
 
Of Sopfwnijba. 
 
 And addes this more, that if Ihe ment to liue, 
 
 She needs would leaue her, and with her alfo 
 
 Her chaflity, which heauily did greeue. 
 
 To be a prey to an infulting foe : 
 
 And praies her to accept of either two, 
 
 A glorious death with honour and with fame, 
 Or ftill to liue with foule reproach and fhame. 
 
 But hfe againe thofe reafons t' ouerthrow, 
 A thoufand fweet alluring baites doth lay 
 Before her eyes, thereby to make her know, 
 T' was inhumane her felfe to kill and flay : 
 Sayd flie let Ikil-contending Doctors play. 
 
 Such tragicke fits that doe maintaine like fooles. 
 
 This honour in their Academicke fchooles. 
 
 And whereas honour now would threaten thee. 
 
 That if thou liue, thou mufl quite claime, for aye 
 
 Thy wonted fame and fpotleile chaftity. 
 
 Who fliall accufe thee for the fame I pray ? 
 
 Thy hufljands loft, captiu'd, gone, and away. 
 For that no ranfome euer can redeeme him. 
 So that for dead I doubtlefle doe efteeme him. 
 
 Dead muft to dead, the lining to the lining. 
 The graue cannot be capable of loue. 
 It ill befeemes thy youth to be thus greening : 
 Muft thou a mourner reftlefle euer proue ? 
 Thy beauty was not fram'd to fuch behoue. 
 
 That thy fweete yeeres fliould ftill confumed be, 
 
 A votreffe vnto loues-foe, chaftity. 
 
 C 4 Let 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Let veftalls, who all other Nuns excells, 
 Clofely immur'd from mens fociety, 
 While as they chat in their religious cells, 
 Maintaine this idle theame of chaftitie, 
 Let this their Euen-fong, and their Matins be, 
 
 A text more fitting that retired fort, 
 
 Then for the tender beauties of the Court. 
 
 Beauty (God knowes) was not ordain'd to mone, 
 
 Nor to hue chaftely at her firft creation : 
 
 For fkilfuU Nature, who hath made the Sunne 
 
 To giue vs light, made her for procreation. 
 
 Not Image-like for oftentation. 
 
 But as choife fruites are made-of for choife feedes. 
 And llately Stalhons to breed ftately fteeds. 
 
 As th' Apple to the tafte, the Rofe to fmell, 
 
 The pleafant Lilly to delight the eye, 
 
 Gould for the touch, fweete Mufick greefe to expell, 
 
 So rareft beauty was ordained to be. 
 
 The mindes defired full faciety. 
 
 The treafure of the foule, the hearts delight, 
 Loues full contentment both by day and night. 
 
 Stray but along the pleafant iields and fee, 
 
 If that each creature loues not in fome meafure. 
 
 The wanton birds fit biUing on each tree, 
 
 To fee the faire Pawne wooe, it were a pleafure. 
 
 Beauty alone is not the Princes treafure, 
 
 Marke well each flock, by mountaine or by plaine. 
 Is followed by fome louing Nimph or Swaine. 
 
 There 
 
Of Soplwnijha. 
 
 There feeds the Heifer, arid the gentle Ewe, 
 Courting the proud Bull, and the fawcy Ramme, 
 There does the courfer his hotte loue purfue, 
 With his braue breeder in a mutuall flame : 
 The timorous Hare, and Conie doth the fame. 
 
 So doth the princely Stagge, the milke white Hinde, 
 All loue according to their courfe of kinde. 
 
 And if it be not that fole bird of wonder, 
 Th"* Arabian Phcenix, nothing breath's but loues, 
 Which veftall like, doth fpend of yeares fine hunder, 
 And neuer loues fweete operation prooues ; 
 The thought thereof, fo much her chafte minde mooues. 
 That as agreeu'd to Hue fo long alone, 
 At length Ihe bumes for forrow in the funne. 
 
 How then vnkindly honor with thee deales, 
 Who fo vntimely would thy life bereaue ? 
 As if that nothing now faue death auailes. 
 Nor that thou could not line vnlelTe a flaue, 
 How fondly loe, Ihe feekes thee to deceaue, 
 There's no fuch danger, if thou wilt beleeue. 
 From hence therfore, let no fuch thoughts thee grieue. 
 
 The meekeft conquerors to a yeelding foe, 
 That euer yet afpir'd to greatnefle hight, 
 Are the braue Romans, who as wifely know, 
 To vfe their mercy as they doe their might ; 
 Let not difpaire fo much thy foule affright, 
 
 For why thy fates more good to thee defigne, 
 
 If thou do not againft thy fates repine. 
 
 Con- 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Conceit that thou muft brauely liue in bliffe, 
 Thinke that thy rainde and fortune fliall agree, 
 Who knowes but that thy noble friend ere this, 
 Has mollified proud Scipios hard decree ? 
 'T'is time enough fweete Queene for thee to dye. 
 When thou art not thy felfe, euen then alaffe, 
 When thy true glaffe fliall fliew thy wrinckled face. 
 
 Thy dainty corps fits better to receiue 
 The fweet imbracements of a louing friend. 
 Then to be made a morfell for the graue. 
 From whence againe it cannot be redeem'd : 
 Oh ! that from thence it might be fl:il] exeera'd, 
 
 Thy beauty is too delicate a prey, 
 
 By lothfome wormes to be confum'd away. 
 
 Thus fearefull life did for her felfe proteft, 
 Still feeking intertainment by delayes ; 
 Till Honor mad to fee her fo pofleft, 
 With fuch inchanting, falfe, and Syren fayes, 
 Her conquering colours boldly forth difplayes, 
 
 Into the face of life, and in this fort, 
 
 Her arguments and errors doth retort. 
 
 And what O life ! and muft thou too confpire 
 With her difgrace t'out-liue a glorious name .'' 
 Fye, daftard, banifli fuch a fond defire, 
 And blufli thou didft conceit the fame for fliame, 
 I put the cafe thou paffe the date of fame, 
 
 And that thou fcape th' infulting vidors wrath, 
 Yet what aflurance haft thou of thy breath ? 
 
 Which 
 
Of Soplionijha . 
 
 Which Hke a dreame, a fmoake, a vapor flyes, 
 
 Without aflured or prefixed date, 
 
 How many well at morne or euening dies ? 
 
 „ Such is the frailty of our humaine ftate, 
 
 „ Moil certainly vncertaine of our fate. 
 
 Yet this we know for certaine, wee mull dye, 
 When, where, or how, God knowes, vncertaine wee. 
 
 Then peeuifli hagge, how dares thou thus prefume, 
 
 With thy be-lying reafons to perfwade, 
 
 This fortune-wronged Lady to fee Rome, 
 
 As if no danger thereby might be had ? 
 
 Shall it of Sophoni/ba (ah) be faid. 
 That Ihe to fliunne a tranfitory paine, 
 Made choice to Hue vnto her honours flaine. 
 
 No, no, it were an vnaduifed choife. 
 Great Queene, for thee to Hue with fuch difgrace ; 
 What more difhonour couldft thou do to thofe, 
 I meane to Syphax^ Carthage^ and thy race. 
 Then that thou flxouldft now fearfully giue place 
 To lifes allurements, which doth feeke with fhame, 
 To kill thee by the killing of thy fame ? 
 
 Would not great Syphax blulh to heare it told, 
 His foules chiefe minion, darling of his heart, 
 T'inioy whofe loue, hee was fo fondly bold. 
 From ihe great Romans friendlhip to depart. 
 Which makes him Hue captiu'd in endleffe fmart, 
 
 Should now to his eternall griefe be made, 
 
 A luftfull prey vnto a lawleffe bed ? 
 
 And 
 
TJis Tragicall Death 
 
 And would not Romes Corriuall to be forrie, 
 Great Carthage that her Sophonijha fhould 
 Be made a trophae to the Romane glorie, 
 Whofe matchleffe beautie oft-times purchafe could 
 Mo friends to her then all her wealth or gold, 
 
 It doubtlelTe would breed in that famous cittie 
 
 More hate to her then either loue or pitty. 
 
 What would thy parents, friends, and kindred fay. 
 
 If thou flxouldfl yeeld a captiue now to be ? 
 
 But all bewaile the curft vnhappy day 
 
 Of thy conception and natiuitie : 
 
 Then drinke this potion, that thou maift fet free 
 
 Thy matchles-noble mind from beeing thrall, 
 
 So ihalt thou be moft famous in thy fall. 
 
 Looke how we fee on glaflie Neptunes face. 
 
 Two warlike fhips a furious fight begin. 
 
 Now flies the one, the other now takes chafe. 
 
 Now by the loofe, now by the lee they rin, 
 
 The liquid Mayne with their Iharpe beakes they twin : 
 
 At length they grapple, and then boords in haft, 
 
 And who firft enters backe againe is chac't. 
 
 No otherwife within her care-fraught breaft. 
 This powerfull combat twixt her life and honor. 
 Is ftill maintained by turnes, whiles th' one is chac't, 
 Whiles th' other flies, whiles both do fet vpon her, 
 Yet neither of them to their fide can win her : 
 
 But now to honor, now to life giues place. 
 
 And dares not either freely to embrace. 
 
 Now 
 
Of Sophonijba. 
 
 Now in the midft of this inteftine warre, 
 Vncertaine thus to either fide to yeeld, 
 Her paffions ftill augment, more growes her care ; 
 Her woes the greater that they are conceard : 
 " Sorrow is lighteft when it is reueal'd : 
 " A heauy burthen to a troubled hart, 
 "Is much to feele, and little to impart. 
 
 Yet in this fad and filent agonie, 
 While life and honor furioufly contend, 
 Enters braue Courage with audacitie, 
 And giues this inward ftrife a fatall end, 
 And Honors high attempt doth fo commend, 
 That in defpite of what her life could fay, 
 Makes her refolu'd to die without delay. 
 
 At laft flie gently enters to vnfold 
 Her currall lips, from whence her balmy breath, 
 Euen loath to leaue that paradized hold, 
 Where it fo long time fweetly foiouru'd hath, 
 Flies houering bout her lips afraid of death, 
 Till gentle Zephir's gales finding it there. 
 Doth foftly blow it to perfume the ayre. 
 
 Looke how in cleare Meanders winding brinkes. 
 The fnow-white Swan her exequies doth fing 
 In fweeteft notes, tiU that for paine flie ihrinkes, 
 And doth her muficke with her breath refigne : 
 Euen fo doth flie, O to be wondred thing ! 
 Vnto the poyfon fuch fweet fpeeches breath. 
 As flie had courted Cupid and not Death. 
 
 Thrice 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Thrice-happy welcome guift (fayd flie to me,) 
 
 And much more welcome had thou bin (God knowes) 
 
 If hufbands hands had not afFoorded thee, 
 
 For Deaths more grieuous friends do giue then foes. 
 
 Yet art thou not to blame, thou knewft my choice 
 
 Was euer to preferre a glorious death 
 
 Before an ignominious feruile breath. 
 
 I thanke you hartly for your kind regard. 
 And for the due aduertifement you giue 
 Of Scipid's plots, againft poore me prepard, 
 Who for his owne fake fuffers me to Hue, 
 The period of Ambition to atchiue, 
 
 To lead in triumph fuch a mighty Queene, 
 Who neuer fhall at Rome aliue be feene. 
 
 Nor fhaU that proude ore-all-empiring citty. 
 Or her more proud inhabitants, whofe rage 
 My father, friends, and kindred all but pitty, 
 Kild and vndid their furie to affwage. 
 Behold me captiue clof 'd up in a cage. 
 Or lead in triumph to their Capitoll, 
 I rather chufe a thoufand deaths to tholl. 
 
 Where her faire glorious Dames enricht by fpoyle 
 Of an vnlawfull conqueft, daily weares 
 Thofe robes and iewels which with great turmoyle. 
 Others haue conquerd to their hapleffe heires : 
 Who ouercome with this great power of theirs, 
 Giue all they haue to ranfome their poore liues, 
 Which they fend home to beautifie their wiues. 
 
 Shall 
 
Of Sophonijba. 
 
 Shall they into their windowes richly deekt, 
 To gaze vpon my miferies remaine ? 
 Or fliall they with their longing lookes expeft 
 My wifli'd approch, their eyes to entertaine 
 With the fad obieft of my glories waine ? 
 
 But ere their fights be fatiffied fo, 
 
 I rather chufe quicke to my graue to go. 
 
 No, none ore me fliall fo infult or vaunt, 
 Whome flaue nor captiue they fliall neuer fee, 
 Though conquerd and orecome my felfe I graunt, 
 In all things elfe, yet of my liberty 
 None other liuing fliaU commander be ; 
 
 Which I efteeme and prize at higher rate, 
 
 Then whatfoeuer riches, wealth, or ftate. 
 
 Shall I who in the higheft chiefe degree 
 
 Of Fortunes fauour lately fliin'd in grace, 
 
 Abafe my felfe fo low a flaue to be, '*' 
 
 To thofe who ruin'd me and all my race ? 
 
 No, no fuch thought nor motion fliall haue place, 
 
 Though all the euils on earth fliould me opprefle, 
 
 I liu'd a Queene, and I muft die no lefle. 
 
 Let Rome triumph to heare of my diftrefle. 
 
 But neuer glorie to behold my wo : 
 
 Scipio my wracke in words may well exprefle, 
 
 But me a captiue fliall he neuer fliow : 
 
 Go who fo liil, I neuer raeane to go 
 One foote, to grace his viftories, I vow, 
 With his defignes beeing fo acquainted now. 
 
 Haue 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Haue not mine eyes as yet beheld alafle, 
 
 To many wofuU obiefts, but of force 
 
 They muft behold and view their owne difgrace, 
 
 To grace the breeders triumph which is worfe : 
 
 Is there no other pitty nor remorfe ? 
 
 My crown''s bereft, what refts there more to doe, 
 
 Muft they bereaue me of my honour to ? 
 
 The gods and nature to the world did giue mee, 
 Moft free by birth, and fo I'ue liu'd as yet, 
 And of my birth-right would they now bereaue me, 
 To curbe me with captiuities hard bit ? 
 I minde not so from Natures gift to flit. 
 
 My freedomes leafe till death doth not expire, 
 
 Which I to forfit neuer fliall defire. 
 
 Thrice happy yee that fpent your bleffed breaths 
 
 In the defence of country liberty. 
 
 Who by your glorious and renouned deaths, 
 
 Expreff'd your mindes great magnanimity : 
 
 And left fad tokens to the enemy 
 
 Of your great valour and couragious fpirits. 
 While each his death with his foes death acquits. 
 
 As moft kinde children to your natiue foUe, 
 
 In her defence yee fpent your deereft bloud. 
 
 Your eyes ne''r vewing the regratefull fpoile 
 
 Heauens hauing your attempts and force withftood, 
 
 Which the proude fortune-follow"'d multitude. 
 Of your fierce foes tooke on your haplefle ayres, 
 Being plagued both in this your lofle, and theirs. 
 
 Of 
 
Of Sophonijha. 
 
 Of which none iuftlier may lament then I, 
 The wofuU type of fortunes fickle grace, 
 Who with thofe hapleffe eyes (alaffe) did fpie, 
 My noble father flaine before my face ; 
 And by his fide the mofl: part of our race : 
 
 My hufband conquered and captiu'd alfo, 
 
 In whofe each griefe I felt a feueral woe. 
 
 But fortune neuer wearied of change, 
 Vnconfl:ant goddefle which affects nought more, 
 As if alone on mee flie ment reuenge. 
 While death and horror ftood my eyes before, 
 Did then prefent me with a fliew of glore, 
 
 As if repenting of her former wrong, 
 
 And yet meant greater iniuries ere long. 
 
 Who would haue thought amidft a world of woes, 
 
 While nothing but defl:ru6tion did appeere. 
 
 All being in power of the infulting foes. 
 
 Life, liberty, or what I held mofl; deere : 
 
 Teares in my eyes, my heart poflefl: with feare, 
 Looking for nothing but a fliamefull death, 
 That fortune then had mitigate her wrath ? 
 
 Oh ! had I died when death was fo expefted, 
 
 It had not feem"'d fo grieuous far (alafle) 
 
 For while I fl:ood at vnder and deiefted. 
 
 Bearing the burden of a fad difgrace, 
 
 I would haue thought he pittied had my cafe. 
 Who had me kiFd in fuch a wofuU plight, 
 „ For death, in forrow and defpaire, feemes light. 
 
 D But 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 But fortune falfe, her fury to fulfill, 
 
 Referud me then to a more wretched end, 
 
 As to make him the author of my ill, 
 
 Who from all euils did euer me defend ; 
 
 But pardon me deere friend if I offend. 
 In counting thee a partner of my wrack. 
 Since death feemes grieuous which from thee I take. 
 
 Scarfe haue I dream'd yet of that matchlefle pitty, 
 
 Which vndeferu'd you did extend to me. 
 
 When in the mines of this facked cittie, 
 
 Thou did preferue my wiflied liberty, 
 
 And which is more, vouchfaffl me then to be. 
 Thy blift and happy, now curft hapleffe bride, 
 Since this fad potion mull our loues deuide. 
 
 How can I but regrate, complaine and moane, 
 When fcarcely yet I haue begun to tafte 
 Thofe fpeachleffe pleafures that attend vpon 
 The fweete fruition of a Nuptiall feaft, 
 Where facred Hymen fhould be chiefefl gueft, 
 Sweete Madrigalls, and bleffed hymnes be fung. 
 And no fad toales of buriall-bells be rung. 
 
 Oh let them iudge, who with delight and ioy, 
 Haue felt the pleafures of fweet wedlocks bed, 
 What griefe, what care, what forrow, what annoy, 
 It''s to forfake the fame ere it be had ! 
 Thus onely this, and nothing elfe thats faid. 
 Makes me to hate this wofuU gift of thine, 
 Which otherwife feemes a moll blell propine. 
 
 But 
 
Of Sophonijba. 
 
 But what, O loue ! and mull thy paffions be 
 So powerfull in my foule, that they mull mooue 
 Mee to accufe him of feueritie, 
 Who in his adlions al, moll kinde doth prooue ? 
 No, rather farre detelled be all loue, 
 
 Or it enforce me in a thought to fall, 
 
 To him I honored aye, and euer Ihall. 
 
 Sweete MaJJiniJfa, courteous, gentle, kinde, 
 
 That you are fo, ile feale it with my bloud. 
 
 Nothing torments fo much my dying minde, 
 
 Thou wall not in my better fortunes lou'd, 
 
 And O that thou, if fates had thought it good. 
 Had cropt the bloffomes of my beauties prime. 
 Which now you fcarce haue tailed out of time. 
 
 This, this it is, breeds my eternall fmart. 
 
 That in the defolation of my glory, 
 
 My wayning beauty did furprife thy heart, 
 
 Deare Lord, this makes thy dying fpoufe moll forry, 
 
 To thinke that £he mull be the wofiiU llory, 
 A regillred remarkeable mifchiefe, 
 Whofe loue had birth and buriall both in griefe. 
 
 That you are guiltleffe of my haplefle death, 
 I both attell the heauens and fpirits aboue, 
 In witnelTe whereof heere I do bequeath, 
 My heart to thee, in token of our loue, 
 From hence no amorous motion fliall me mooue : 
 
 Farewell therefore, to life, to loue, and thee, 
 
 True witneffes of deare bought liberty. 
 
 D 2 Goe 
 
The Tragicdll Death 
 
 Goe wanton Cupid, fport thee with thy mother, 
 In fome more happy climate then is ours, 
 Here thou and Death will ne're agree together. 
 He likes the Graues, and thou the reuelling Boures, 
 Lafciuious Rome with her ikie-mounting towers. 
 
 As Empreffe of all kingdomes and Empires, 
 
 Seemes fitteft place for fuell to thy fires. 
 
 Whofe amorous youths, when once they feele the force 
 
 Of thy enuenomed Ihafts, fhall freely ftory 
 
 Mee and my Mqffinij[faes fad diuorce. 
 
 Feeding their Ladies eares with farre-fetchd glory, 
 
 Straining their toungs, their wits and memory. 
 
 In their befl forme, with eloquence to fliow. 
 
 Such accidents as they defire to know. 
 
 One in his armes holding his deereft dame, 
 
 May haply court her with fuch words as thefe : 
 
 Faire worlds admired beauty, here I am. 
 
 Who not long fince, amid ten thoufand foes, 
 
 Moil valiantly did this pure breft oppofe, 
 Againft the fury of the crueirft fight. 
 Yet neuer wounded till approch'd thy fight. 
 
 Hard by my feete, great Hafdruhall lay flaine. 
 Who to all Romaines, bare innated hate, 
 Not diflant farre from him was Syphax tane, 
 Who to oppofe himfelfe againft our ftate, 
 Receiu'd in Dower his Daughter but of late. 
 
 Who now attends Scipios triumphant carre. 
 
 As the proud trophae of this famous warre. 
 
 Let 
 
Of Sophonijha. 
 
 Let them thus vainely prattle of my griefe, 
 
 And mock my woes, my miferies and wrongs, 
 
 Let them fpend time in telling my mifchiefe, 
 
 Let my difgrace be fubieft to their fongs. 
 
 And let them all, thefe iolly things amongs, 
 Proclaime their vallour, and reueale our wrack, 
 Yet in my bonds they ihall no pleafure take. 
 
 For death and I are now agreed together, 
 Euen from this moment neuer more to funder, 
 Who by no meanes will grant I fliould go thither. 
 Where worlds of eyes vpon my fall fliall wonder, 
 Scipio may threaten, and proud Rome may thunder, 
 That I fhall reft their euerlafting thrall, 
 Yet death has vowd to fet me free from all. 
 
 Welcome thy friendlhip, fweete confederate Death, 
 
 Who ftill moft faithfull in diftreffe dooft prooue ; 
 
 Who would not gladly yeeld to thee their breath, 
 
 Since onely thou canft miferies remooue, 
 
 O how my foule with thee is falne in loue ! 
 
 Knowing how quickly thou her paines can liniQi, 
 Hafte then fweet death, ere Ihe her loue diminifti. 
 
 How falfely haue they wrong'd the trueth, that faine, 
 
 (Thereby to make thee odious to our eyes) 
 
 Thee to be ougly, cruell, meager, leane. 
 
 Drawing thy portrait with deformities ? 
 
 Some paint thee flelhleffe, all but bones and knees : 
 
 Moft like a withered vile Anatomy, 
 
 Some with a lethall Dart do pidure thee. 
 
 D 3 But 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 But let the world thus paint thee as they lift ; 
 Yet thou appeers moft louely to my fight, 
 Who in this cup comes but to quench my thirft, 
 And not my foule with ougly fliapes t"" affright : 
 Well may that torment be accounted light, 
 
 That emptying with one draught this little boule, 
 From all difafters fo may free my foule. 
 
 Why ftay I then to furfet out this potion, 
 Whofe droufie liquour Ihall breed fuch a (lumber. 
 As I fhall need to feare no careftil motion : 
 Nor with my fad difgrace my thoughts to cumber, 
 My woes, my griefes, and my mifliaps paft number 
 
 Shall all be buried in eternall fleepe, 
 ' My heart, and eyes fliall no more figh and weepe. 
 
 This body thereby fliall bee fau'd from fcorne, 
 Thefe hands from bands, mine eyes from mifery. 
 This head, which late imperioufly hath worne 
 A Princely crowne fliall not fo abieft be, 
 As from anothers liberality. 
 
 Which tyrannizing did the fame bereaue. 
 
 In feruile manner it againe receiue. 
 
 Viftorious Scipio, Carthage fatal foe, 
 The fcourge of Affrick, and the glore of Rome, 
 Whofe chiefeft drift and aime is t' haue me goe, 
 T' attend his triumphes vainely fliall confume, 
 Thofe idle hopes by which he doth prefume, 
 With my difgrace, to grace his high renoune. 
 In his proud entry, to that more proud towne. 
 
 For 
 
Of SopJioniJba. 
 
 For why my better deftiny now faies, 
 From AfFrick, Europe fhall no way deuide, 
 This wretched remnant of my worfer dales, 
 The bell being fpent ahready here in pride : 
 How can it iuftly be to me denide ? 
 
 But as kinde Affrick, gaue me Ufe and beeing, 
 
 To her againe I giue her owne, I dying. 
 
 Then O deere country ! yet in loue receaue, 
 This hatefull hfe that ftill your harme procur"'d, 
 And in compaflion grant my bones a graue : 
 Which while I breath'd your quiet ftill iniur'd, 
 Wherefore from hence that you may reft fecur'd : 
 Deere foyle difdaine not fuch a fmall requeft, 
 That breeds thy peace, and my defired reft. 
 
 Yet one thing let my dying ghoft intreat, 
 
 (Which to my griefe thy ruine doth prefage) 
 
 Line ftill with Rome, and Romans at debate. 
 
 Let armes gainft armes, rage be oppof 'd to rage : 
 
 Kil, murther al, forbeare no fexe, no age. 
 Agree at laft, and that wil be to foone, 
 When either Rome, or Carthage is vndone. 
 
 To thee then freely, now I drinke my laft. 
 With that the poyfon to her head flie hied, 
 And while her lookes flie doth about her caft, 
 Leaft any had this aft of hers difcried : 
 Her ftaring eyes vnwares by chance efpied. 
 
 The wofuU ftory of Queene Didoes faU, 
 
 Drawne by fome curious penfel on the wal. 
 
 D 4 Which 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 Which with attention flie remarkes and viewes, 
 Wondring the beauty of the work-mans art, 
 Who in a thoufand ftrange and diuers hewes 
 Of choiceft colours had difcharg'd his part, 
 All was fo portrayd in this matchlelTe Chart, 
 
 That liueles Ihadowes lining bodies feem''d, 
 
 The paynter had each lineament fo lim"'d. 
 
 JEneas Nauie on the waning Mayne, 
 
 Spred forth their proud fayles for to catch the aire, 
 
 Here fweld a billow, there it fel againe : 
 
 A thoufand Daulphins fkip vp here and there. 
 
 The mariners ay two and two by paire, 
 
 With fupple palmes did fpan their heauie oares, 
 At whofe fad ftrokes the wounded ocean roares. 
 
 High in a turret wretched Dido ftood, 
 
 For to behold her faithleffe louers flight. 
 
 From whofe faire eyes diftifd a chriftall flood 
 
 Of brinifh teares when flie beheld that fight. 
 
 Each thing was fram'd fo curioufly and right, 
 That whatfoeuer was to th' eyes prefented. 
 Seemed in effed farre rather, then invented. 
 
 A little lower did prefent to view, 
 
 The faddefl: obieft in this matchlefle frame : 
 
 There one might fee how in defpaire flie drew 
 
 The cruell fword, then fell vpon the fame. 
 
 O how the fl:reames of purple blood foorth came ! 
 
 From which, as it had bin yet warme, did flie, 
 
 A little fmoke which purld into the ikie, 
 
 Looke 
 
Of Sophonijba. 
 
 Looke how a rofe which from the ftalke is cropt, 
 Leaues here and there fome hloflbmes on the ground, 
 So here and there the place was all bedropt 
 With her vermilion bloud about her round : 
 The Painters ikill in painting of her wound 
 Seem'd moft diuine and exquifit indeed, 
 For ftill there-from the drops yet feem'd to bleed. 
 
 Sad Sophonijba wiftly notes the ftorie. 
 And giuing foorth a death- prefaging grone : 
 Deare wronged Lady (quoth flie) I am forry, 
 That time will not permit me to bemone 
 Thy fad mifchance, nor fhalt thou grieue alone j 
 For why I hope our ghofts fliall meet ere long, 
 Where each to other (hall complaine our wrong. 
 
 O how my fortune doth refemble thine ! 
 How like thy forrowes are (alas) my woes ! 
 AflFricke thy country; Affricke likewife mine : 
 Both our deftru6lions from one fountaine flowes : 
 ^neas thine, his of-fpring now my foes ; 
 
 He bred thy ruine, they my fad diftreffe ; 
 
 He wrong'd a Queene, they wrong'd me now no leiTe. 
 
 And fince the greatneffe of thy mind was fuch, 
 
 Death to preferre vnto a lining fliame. 
 
 Shall not thy braue example mooue as much 
 
 Defire in me for to performe the fame ? 
 
 Let comming ages heare it told by Fame, 
 How Sophonijba imitating thee, 
 ChuPd rather death, then lining Infamy. 
 
 This 
 
The Tragicall Death 
 
 This Ipoke without amazement, feare or dread, 
 
 She drinks the fatall poyfon (noble Dame) 
 
 Which ftreight his venim through her veines doth fpred, 
 
 Scorning refiftance wherefoere it came : 
 
 Euen as we fee a little fparke or flame, 
 
 When once it kindles where it finds fit matter. 
 From place to place his furious flames doth fcatter. 
 
 Now while this powerfuU potion in her veines, 
 So fiercely wrought, her life began to faile, 
 Which no more lordfhip in her breft retaines : 
 So bitterly death did it their aflaile. 
 Which hauing bidden to her heart farewell : 
 
 Her chiefefi dwelling ftraight for feare Ihe flies 
 
 For fafety vpwards to her lips and eyes. 
 
 There as if death had com'd awhile to play 
 
 Vnder tbe fhadow of difcheuild haire, 
 
 Which dangling o're her face and fhoulders lay, 
 
 She yet retaines a countenance moll faire, 
 
 Her gefture did her willing death declare : 
 And as her breath by intermifHon dies, 
 So peece by peece her beautie fades and flies. 
 
 Moll like vnto a tender Lilly faire. 
 That's ouer-blafled with fome raging florme, 
 Whofe fauory blofTomes late perfum'd the ayre, 
 Hangs downe his head, lofing his wonted forme, 
 Or as a flower chokt with a canker worme, 
 Euen fo the natiue beauty now ore-blowne, 
 Of this faire Queene feem's borrowed, not her owne. 
 
 Thus 
 
Of Sophonijba. 
 
 Thus while her life ftayes in an houering feare, 
 Within the precin6l of her currall lips : 
 Finding grim death had tane pofTeffion there, 
 Not willing more to enter in his grips, 
 Giuing a bitter fob from thence Ihe Ikips, 
 Leaning free paffage to her foule oppreft, 
 To leaue the daintie prifon of her breft. 
 
 But foule and body loth to part afunder. 
 Both feeme fome little refpite to intreat : 
 Yet th' one mull go, the other flay : a wonder 
 For all the world that viewes it to regreet : 
 Vi6lorious death now llrikes, he leaues to threat : 
 So this braue Dame her gallant ghofl vp yeelds. 
 Which flies with triumph to th' Elizian fields. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
C iE L I A. 
 
 Containing certaine 
 Sonets. 
 
 BY 
 
 David Mvrray, 
 SCOTO-BRITTAINE. 
 
To the right Noble and his moll honoured 
 
 good Lord, RICHARD Lord 
 
 DINGWALL. 
 
 LEt it notfeeme offenfiue to yourjight, 
 {Mojl nohle Lord) that here my Mufe propines 
 You, with her youthfull follies, in thofe lines 
 Deckt with Inuention of conceits fo light? 
 For the dread founds (which dajiard minds affright) 
 Of neighing courfers, and of trumpets Jhrill, 
 Had bin a SubieB fitter for my quill, 
 T' haue bred vnto thy haughty eares delight. 
 
 Butfince my Mufe, as yet, did neuer frame, 
 Her fporting vaine, tofing of Martiall blowes, 
 ( Which Mirror-like, your valorus arme oftfhowes 
 Both to your owne, and to your countries fame) 
 
 Yet deigne to view, her loue-fcke verfe meane while : 
 Mars oft-times ioyes to fee fair e Yennsfmile. 
 
 And if vnto this idle humerous Vaine, 
 Where Youth and folly fhew their fkil-lejfe Art, 
 She breed acceptance, Jhe her wits fhall flraine, 
 {Ere it be long) a fubieB to impart. 
 
 That to your noble eares fhall feeme more worth • 
 
 Till when, accept this her abortiue birth. 
 
 Your LL. to be commanded, 
 
 DA. MVRRAY. 
 
Sonet 1. 
 
 MY infant Mufe, when I began to write, 
 Led by the furie of my vnftay'd yeares, 
 Sung euer as my fancie did conceit, 
 As by her method-wanting layes appeares : 
 Now prayPd flie Ccelia's beauty, then admires 
 Th' enchanting Muficke of anothers quill : 
 And now againe flie would bewaile with teares, 
 Th' vntimely fals of fome whom death did kill. 
 Thus neuer ftaying at one letled theame. 
 Till that Ihe grew more graue, and I more old, 
 Vnder prote6lion of a royall name, 
 Faire Sophonijbas tragicke death Ihe told. 
 
 Yet left poore Mufe her firft conceits were fmor'd. 
 She here prefents them to a Noble LORD. 
 
 Sonet 2. 
 
 Kind Nature once did labour fo in birth. 
 That all the gods to helpe her were conuein'd, 
 all's Mother then fuch bitter throws fuftaind. 
 Or fhe this child of wonder could bring forth : 
 At length fupported by celeftiall might. 
 She's brought to bed euen of a girle diuine, 
 Whom al the prefent Deities propine 
 With what rare graces could enrich the fight, 
 Loues Queene gaue Beauty, Dian Chaftnes rare, 
 Minerua ludgement, thundring loue the Name, 
 Apollo grac'd her with her golden haire, 
 Juno the Heart that Ihould all hearts inflame, 
 Cupid gaue her his owne two louely eyes, 
 Wherwith all thofe are darted who her fees. 
 
 3. So- 
 
3. Sonet. 
 
 BEauty beeing long a refident aboue, 
 With importune celeftiall futes was deau'd, 
 
 Of facred fprites who ftill her fauour crau'd, 
 
 That flie from thence refolued to remooue : 
 
 And fo at laft from top of all the Rounds, 
 
 Loue on his wings conuoy'd her here below, 
 
 Where flie not willing any fhould her know, 
 
 Sought out the North to be her relling bounds. 
 
 There Ihe remains her name being chang'd, yet ftil 
 
 For beauty now faire Ccelia fhe is cal'd, 
 
 Whofe fight fometimes, as it the gods all thral'd, 
 
 So now her lookes poore humane foules doth kil. 
 And oh no wonder ! if they thus do end, 
 Since they but faile where gods could not defend. 
 
 4. Sonet. 
 
 THy beauty, Ccelia^ fo betrayd mine eyes. 
 That at the firft they forc'd my heart to yeeld : 
 Thus ouercome into a bloudlefTe field, 
 A yeelding flaue vnto thy mercy flees, 
 Where humble proft.rate on aife6lions knees, 
 Tyde with the chaines of ftrongefl; loue (alas) 
 I do intreat thy pitty to my cafe, 
 Pitty but which thy haplefle captiue dy's ; 
 Then as tijy beautie did but fl;roke or'come, 
 So let thy mercy without rigour faue, 
 Remorfe and pittie fliall thee befl; become, 
 Remorfe and pitty which not els I craue. 
 
 Thrife happy thraldome if thou pitty moue, 
 
 Vnhappy bondage if difduin'd my loue. 
 
 My 
 
5. Sonet. 
 
 A yTY griefes increafe ftill vrg''d me to impart, 
 -*-^-*- My foules felt-paine vnto my faireft faire, 
 And that flie might V acquainted with my care : 
 I chooFd my tongue the agent for my heart, 
 Which being well inftrufted as I thought, 
 In all the paffions which opprelTe a minde. 
 And being glad to fliew how I was pin'd : 
 With fwift wing'd haft I Ccelias prefence fought : 
 But I no fooner had attained her fight. 
 When loe my tongue betra'd me to her eyes. 
 And daftard-like into my throat ftraight flies, 
 Leaning me cleane confounded with his flight. 
 Beat backe with fighes, yet it return'd againe, 
 But fpake of pleafure when it fliould of paine. 
 
 6. Sonet. 
 
 STill muft I grone, ftill muft I figh, ftill mourne. 
 And cannot grones, nor fighes, nor teares haue place. 
 
 To make faire Ccelia one fweete fmile returne, 
 
 Or at the leaft to fliew fome figne of grace ? 
 
 Ah ! who would fay that one fo faire of face. 
 
 So rare of beauty, fo diuine in all, 
 
 Difdain'd to pitty one in fuch a cafe. 
 
 And one poore foule who leaues her beauties thral ? 
 
 Still muft I breath thofe grieuous grones in vaine : 
 
 StiU muft my fighs euanifli in the ayre, 
 
 Still muft thofe teares be fpent in wafte I ftraine. 
 
 Still muft my paflions all increafe my care. 
 
 Then gentle death come and diflblue my paine. 
 Since fighes, teares, grones, and paflions bred difdaine. 
 
 E 7. Smet. 
 
7. Sonet. 
 
 PAle, fad Aurora leaue thy fliowres to raine, 
 Of perl-like criftall teares thou dayly flieds, 
 In tender bofomes of the flowry meads, 
 Wayling his death wh' at Ilions liege was flaine : 
 Oh let thy foule appeaf'd ! with this remaine, 
 That thofe thy teares pleads pitty by there fight, 
 And more, the great bright patterne of the light, 
 To quench his drought carroufes them againe : 
 Ceafe then to weepe, and leaue me ftill to mourne, 
 Complayning beft becomes my mirthleffe ftate, 
 Wh' in quenchleffe flames of lucklefle loue does bume : 
 (Thy Memnons loffe requires no more regrate) 
 And fince my owne cannot procure but fcome, 
 Lend me thy mouing teares, fweet weeping mome. 
 
 8. Sonet. 
 
 ANd is it true deere, that you are vnkind ? 
 Shall I beleeue fweet Saint that you are fo ? 
 I feare you are, but ftay, oh ! flay my minde : 
 Too foone to credit that that breeds thy woe, 
 Yet whether fliall my refolutions goe, 
 To thinke you are, or not vnkinde I muft 
 Th' effeft faies I, and yet my fancy, no, 
 Being loth fuch vndeferued harme to trull ; 
 My paffions thus fuch opperations breed, 
 In my deuided foule that I can not. 
 Conceit you are that which you are indeed : 
 Imperious loue doth fo controU my thought, 
 Vnhappy I that did fuch loue imbrace, 
 Vnconftant you that hates fuch loue (alafle). 
 
 9. So- 
 
9. Sonet 
 
 B Right Angels face, the paradife of Loue, 
 High ftately throne where Maiefty doth Ihine, 
 Beauties Idaea, fweetneffe fweetned flirine, 
 Cleare heauens, wherein proud Pluehus dazlers moue, 
 Faire pearly roUes that ftaine the iuory white, 
 Inuironed with corroll died walles, 
 Sweet-neftard breath, more foft then Zephir's gales, 
 Heart-reauing-tongue whofe fpeech ftill breeds delight, 
 Smooth cheekes of Rofe, and Lyllies interlac''d, 
 Art-fcorning-nofe, in framing which no doubt 
 Nature of her whole Ikill plai'd bankerout. 
 When it in midft of fuch perfeftions plac''d. 
 
 Gold-glittering-trelTes, and foules-wounding-lockes, 
 Onely proud eares, more deafe then flinty rockes. 
 
 10. Smet. 
 
 A yTY Ccelia fat once by a chriftal brooke, 
 "*■ "^ Gazing how fmoothly the cleere ftreams did Aide, 
 Who had no fooner her fweet fight efpi'd, 
 When with amazement they did on her looke. 
 The waters flyding by her feem'd to mourne, 
 Defirous ftil for to behold her beauty, 
 Negleding to the Ocean their duty, 
 In thoufand ftrange Meanders made returne ; 
 But oh ! againe with what an heauenly tune, 
 Thofe pleafant ftreames that iffued from the fpring. 
 To fee that goddeffe did appeare to fing. 
 Whom hauing view'd did as the firft had done. 
 If thofe pure ftreames delighted fo to eye her, 
 ludge how my foule doth furfet when I fee her. 
 
 E 2 11. So- 
 
11. Sonet 
 
 THe Suns fond child when he arriu'd into 
 The fights inueighng palace of his fire, 
 Incenf'd with a praepofterous defire, 
 Would needs to guide his fathers cart ftep to, 
 So fondly I once, entering (alafle) 
 Her chamber who bereaues not eyes, but foules. 
 And whiles my bold approach there's none controules, 
 I needs would venture to behold her face. 
 But as Appolloes child more rafh then wife. 
 Did manage thofe fierce fl;eeds with fkilleffe Art, 
 They like a fire-brand flang him from the ikies : 
 Thus while I ey''d her, beauty fier"'d my heart : 
 Only this difference refl;s betwixt vs two, 
 I ceafleffe bume, his flames were quencht in Po. 
 
 12. Sonet. 
 
 A S Icarus proud of his borrowed winges, 
 -*■ ^ Following his flying father through the Ikies, 
 Aboue the ayery region did arife, 
 And for to gaze on Phoebus vpward fprings. 
 Where while with houering pens he flaring hings 
 Thinking the glory of that cart to tel, 
 From which his match in fondnefle head-long fel : 
 Appolloes rayes his waxen feathers fings : 
 So I refembling him like fondly flew. 
 For my defire being wing"'d with fancies plumes 
 To gaze on brighter rayes then thofe prefumes : 
 Wherewith the Sunne, the fonne of Dedal flew. 
 
 And as our flights fo were our fals (alafTe) 
 
 He in the fea, I into blacke difgrace. 
 
 13. So- 
 
13. Sonet 
 
 A Due fweete Ccelta, for I muft depart, 
 -^^^ And leaue thy fight, and with thy fight all ioy, 
 Conuoi'd with care, attended with annoy : 
 A vagabonding wretch from part to part, 
 Onely deare Ccelia grant me fo much grace. 
 As to vouchfafe this heart befraught with forrow, 
 T' attend vpon thy fhadow euen and morrow : 
 Whofe wonted pleafure was to view thy face, 
 And if fometimes thou foliter remaine. 
 And for thy deareft deare a figh lets Hide, 
 This poore attender fitting by thy fide 
 Shall be thy Eccho to repli't againe. 
 Then farewell, Ccelia, for I mufl: away, 
 And to attend thee my poore heart flial ftay. 
 
 14. Sonet. 
 
 FOrfaken whether flial I goe (alalTe) 
 What place to me can any comfort grant, 
 Sith I mufl: leaue th"" onely happy place. 
 That doth retaine the worlds admired Saint ? 
 Oh neuer let the rifing Sun auant, 
 I faw his brightnefle ! not her brighter face ; 
 Nor let the night in fable fliadowes hant. 
 If that I dreame not of my deare fome fpace. 
 No longer wifli I to enioy this ayre. 
 No longer craue I breath, no more to Hue, 
 Then that I may fl;ill gaze vpon my faire, 
 Whofe fweetefl: fmiles all kind of comfort giue. 
 
 Daies, houres and nights, and places where I goe, 
 
 Til I her fee fliall but procure my woe. 
 
 E 3 15. Sonet, 
 
15. Sonet. 
 
 DAies, houres and nights thy prefence may deteine, 
 But neither day, nor houre, nor night Ihal not 
 
 Barre thy fweet beauty from mine eyes vnfeene, 
 
 Since fo diuinely printed in my thought, 
 
 That Ikilful Greeke, that I^oues Idaea wrought, 
 
 And lim'd it fo exaftly to the eye, 
 
 When beauties rareft patterns he had fought, 
 
 With this thy portrait could not matched bee, 
 
 Tho on a table he, moft ikilful he, 
 
 In rareft collours rareft parts prefented, 
 
 So on a hart if one may match a tree, 
 
 Tho ikilleffe I thy rarer fhape haue painted. 
 Not by Loues felfe, Loues beauty formed he. 
 But by thy felfe, thy felfe art form'd in me. 
 
 16. Sonet. 
 
 '\/i Ount Etnas flames may peraduenture ceafe, 
 •^■^ Yet my true heart fhall burne ftill in a low. 
 The fwelhng ftreames o're bankes and brayes that flow. 
 By miracle may ftay their fwifteft race ; 
 But reftleffe ftreames of liqui'd teares (alafl'e) 
 Shall neuer ftay from my poore eies to rin. 
 The congeald ice longe frozen may grow thin. 
 By the reflex of bright Appolloes face ; 
 But ah ! my hopes fliall freeze ftill in difpaire, 
 Til I enioy againe faire Coelias fight, 
 Whofe beauties beames which fliiu'd o're me fo bright, 
 Through longfome abfence thus procures my care. 
 Sweet Coelia then make fpeed my flames to quench, 
 To raife my hopes and thofe my teares to ftanch. 
 
 17. Sonet. 
 
17. Sonet. 
 
 GAzing from out the windowes of mine eyes, 
 To view the obied of my hearts defire, 
 My famifli'd lookes in wandring troupes forth flies : 
 Hoping by fome good fortune to efpie her, 
 But hauing flowne with flaring wings long fpaee. 
 And miffing fl:ill the aime that cauf 'd them foare, 
 Scorning to feed on any other face, 
 Turnes to their cabins backe and flies no more. 
 And there enclof 'd difdaines to view the Ught, 
 Shadowing my face with fable cloudes of griefe : 
 And thus I breath in cares continuall night, 
 Till that her fight affbrd me fome reliefe. 
 
 Sweet then make hafl: thefe cloudy cares to cleare, 
 And glad thofe eyes that holds thy fight fo deare. 
 
 18. Sonet. 
 
 DEere once you told me that you dream'd my breath 
 Was pafl:, and that your eyes beheld my graue, 
 Likewife you fayd that forrow for my death, 
 From out thofe eyes diftilling teares beraue, 
 Ah tVas no dreame ! if you will but perceiue 
 How in eff*eft for you I hourely die, 
 Thinke that no vifion did you then deceiue, 
 Sith you may view the very truth in me. 
 If fo you dream'd this onely feem's to be : 
 A dreame that for my death fuch teares you fpent, 
 Worfe then a thoufand deaths for you I drie, 
 Yet for my griefe you neuer teare once lent. 
 
 But if for dreaming fo you moum'd fo much, 
 
 Farre rather moume that in effed its fuch. 
 
 E 4 19. So- 
 
19. Sonnet. Bee'mg accufed hy a Gentlewoman Jbr 
 Jiealing of a Booke. 
 
 LEt not thy felfe, faire Nimphe, nor none of thine, 
 Accufe me of no facriligious theft, 
 
 For by the world, and by the ftarry lift, 
 
 And by the honour I doe owe thy fhrine, 
 
 By the infernall fpirits, and gods deuine. 
 
 And by the hallowed llately Stigian brayes, 
 
 I neuer meant (fweete dame) thee to difpleafe, 
 
 For why thy griefe had likewife then beene mine, 
 
 If euer ought deare-loue from thee I ftale, 
 
 I both proteft and fweare it was no booke. 
 
 No nothing but a poore inueighling looke, 
 
 For which againe I left my freedome thrall. 
 Then blame me not for ftealing of thy bookes. 
 Since you fteale hearts, I onely fteale poore lookes. 
 
 20. Smet, 
 
 POnder thy cares, and fumme them all in one. 
 Get the account of all thy hearts difeafe, 
 Recken the torments do thy mind difpleafe, 
 Write vp each figh, each plaint, each teare, each grone, 
 Remember on thy griefe conceau'd by day. 
 And call to minde thy nights diflurbed reft, 
 Thinke on thofe vifions did thy foule moleft. 
 While as thy wearied corpes a fleeping lay, 
 And when all thofe thou haft enrold aright. 
 Into the count-booke of thy daily care, 
 Extraft them truly, then prefent the fight, 
 With them of flinty Coelia the faire. 
 
 That flie may fee, if yet moe ills remaines, 
 
 For to be paid to her vniuft difdaines. 
 
 21. Son- 
 
21. Sonet, Made at the Autliors heeing 
 in Bourdeaux. 
 
 THou Sunne, thofe trees, this earth, faire riuer cleere, 
 Vouchfafe t'attend my pittious plaints, alafle, 
 And if remorfe of a diftrefled cafe 
 Can plead for pitty, liflen oh to heare ! 
 Then be reporters to my faireft faire. 
 To PhcEnix Ccelia of my reftleffe paines. 
 This ages glory, whom the North retaines, 
 Inclofd by Neptune for his darling there. 
 But ah ! thofe trees, this earth cannot remooue. 
 And Phoebus feares her rayes fhall dim his pride. 
 And if this riuer Ihould my complaint guide. 
 Then Neptune would grow iealous of his loue. 
 So that I craue all thefe fupports in vaine, 
 I plagu'd alone, alone muft beare my paine. 
 22. Sonet : On the miffartune o/'Bellizarius, great 
 Lieutenant to the Emperour luftinian. 
 
 STay paflenger, and with relenting looke. 
 Behold heere Bellizariv^^ I pray. 
 
 Whom neuer-conllant fortune, changing aye, 
 
 Euen at the top of greatneffe quite forfooke, 
 
 And which is wondrous, in a moment tooke 
 
 Mee from the hight of an Imperiall fway. 
 
 And plac''d me heere, blind begging by this way, 
 
 Whofe greatneffe fomtime fcarce the world could brook, 
 
 And while thou daignes thy pittifull afpeft. 
 
 Ah forrow not fo much my fortunes paft, 
 
 As I befeech thee to bewaile this laft ! 
 
 That from fuch honour abieft-lie deied, 
 I yet am forc'd a fpedacle to Hue, 
 Glad to receiue the meaneft almes thou't giue. 
 
 Sonnet 
 
Sonet to the right worthy Gentleman, and his h- 
 uing couftn, M. lohn Murray. 
 
 "T 7"T THile Eagle-like vpon the lofty wings 
 
 V V Of thy afpiring Mufe thou flies on hie, 
 Making tV imraortall Sprites in loue with thee, 
 And of thofe Ditties thou fo fweetly fings, 
 Where quaffing boules of their Ambrofian fprings, 
 And fweeteft Neftar, thou diuinely ftayes : 
 Low by the earth (poore I) fings homely layes. 
 Till like defire of fame me vpward brings, 
 Then borrowing, from thy rich Mufe, fome plumes, 
 IcariatvX^e^ beyond my fkill I foare, 
 While comming where thy fongs are heard before. 
 My lines are mockt, that thine to match prefumes : 
 
 And thus I perifh in my high defire, 
 
 While thou'rt more praif'd, the more thou doft afpire. 
 
 Idem. 
 
 INriched fprite by great Apollo crown'd 
 With cirkling wreaths of ftately laurell Bayes, 
 Scorning as't feemes that thy inchanting layes 
 Should haue their praife but of immortall found : 
 For heau'ns feeing earth, fo be thy fongs renownM, 
 Draw vp thy fweetefl Ditties to the ikies, 
 Whofe well tun'd notes Phoebus fhis harpe appUes : 
 While as his chariot wheels about the Round. 
 And thus thy diuine-fprite-infpired Mufe 
 Hath made thee here admir'd, belou'd aboue, 
 She fings fo fweetly that fhe doth infufe 
 Wonder in mortals, in the godhead loue : 
 No maruell if thy fongs Vadmired then. 
 That yeeld both muficke vnto gods and men. 
 
 Ths 
 
The complaint of the Shepheard Harpalus. 
 
 POore Harpalus opprefl with loue, 
 Sate by a chriftall brooke : 
 Thinking his forrowes to remooue. 
 Oft-times therein did looke. 
 
 And hearing how on pibble Hones, 
 
 The murmuring riuer ran, 
 As if it had bewail'd his grones, 
 
 Vnto it thus began. 
 
 Faire ftreame (quoth he) that pitties me, 
 
 And heares my. matchlefle moane, 
 If thou be going to the fea. 
 
 As I do fo fuppone, 
 
 Attend my plaints paft all releefe. 
 
 Which dolefully I breath, 
 Acquaint the fea Nymphes with the greefe, 
 
 Which ftil procures my death. 
 
 Who fitting on the cliffy rockes, 
 
 May in their fongs expreffe : 
 While as they combe their golden lockes, 
 
 Poore Harpalus diftreffe. 
 
 And fo perhaps fome pafTenger, 
 
 That palTeth by the way : 
 May Hay and hften for to heare. 
 
 Them fing this dolefiill lay. 
 
 Poore 
 
Poore Harpalus a Ihepheard fwaine, 
 
 More rich in youth then ftore, 
 Lou'd faire Philena, haplefle man, 
 
 Philena oh therefore ! 
 
 Who ftill remorceles-hearted maide, 
 
 Tooke pleafure in his paine : 
 And his good will (poore foule) repayd 
 
 With vndeferu'd difdayne. 
 
 Ne're fhepheard lou'd a fliepherdeffe 
 
 More faithfully then he : 
 Ne're Ihepheard yet beloued leffe, 
 
 Of ihepheardeffe could be. 
 
 How oft with dying lookes did he 
 
 To her his woes impart ? 
 How oft his fighes did teftifie 
 
 The dolor of his hart ? 
 
 How oft from vallies to the hils, 
 
 Did he his griefes rehearfe ? 
 How oft re-eccho'd they his ills, 
 
 Abacke againe (alas ?) 
 
 How oft on barkes of ftately Pines, 
 
 Of Beech, of Holen greene. 
 Did he ingraue in mournfull lines. 
 
 The dole he did fultaine ? 
 
 Yet all his plaints could haue no place, 
 To change Philena's mind : 
 
 The 
 
The more his forrowes did increafe, 
 The more flie prou''d vnkind. 
 
 The thought whereof through verie care, 
 
 Poore Harpalus did moue : 
 That ouercome with high defpaire, 
 
 He quat both life and loue. 
 
 Sonet on the death of the Lady Cicily Weemes, Lady of 
 Tilleharne. 
 
 FAire CidVs loffe, be thou my fable fong, 
 Not that for which proud Rome and Carthage ftraue 
 But thine more famous, whom ago not long 
 Vntimely death intomb'd fo foone in graue. 
 Deare facred Lady, let thy ghoft receiue 
 Thefe dying accents of my mourning quill. 
 The fweeteft-fmeUing incenfe that I haue. 
 With fighes and teares vpon thy hearfe to fpill. 
 To thee (deare Saint) I confecrate ay ftill 
 Thefe fad oblations of my mirthleffe mind. 
 Who while thou breath'd, this wondring world did fill 
 With thy perfeftions. Phoenix of thy kind : 
 
 From out whofe afhes hence I prophecie. 
 
 Shall neuer fuch another Phoenix flie. 
 
 Epitaph on the death of his deare coufin, 
 M. Dauid Murray. 
 
 REceiue (deare friend) into thy tombe thofe teares ; 
 Thofe tears which from my griefe-fraught eyes diftil, 
 Whofe drearie Ihew the true refemblance beares 
 Of thofe fad cares which inwardly me kill : 
 
 Take 
 
Take them deere friend, finee fent from fuch a one. 
 Who lou'd thee lining, wailes thee being gone : 
 
 No fained teare, nor forged figh (God knowes) 
 
 I facrifice vpon thy wofull hearfe, 
 
 My mournings are according to my woes, 
 
 And correfpondent to my griefe my verfe. 
 My fighes are ceafeleffe ecchoes, that rephes. 
 For thy fad death my hearts relenting cries. 
 
 Aye me ! how can I but regrait thy cafe. 
 
 Who in the full Meridian of thy yeares. 
 
 While ftrength of body held the chiefeft place, 
 
 And while thy felfe, thy felfe euen moll appeares : 
 Death fo vntimely fliould thy life bereaue : 
 Impouerilhing thy friends, t'inrich the graue. 
 
 Ah ! had thou not beene fociall, gentle, kinde, 
 
 Moft louing, courteous, liberall by meafure, 
 
 Riche in all parts, but moft of all in minde, 
 
 Which thou inftord'ft with vertues precious treafure : 
 Had thou not beene I fay repleat with thofe, 
 Leffe had thy praifes beene, and leffe my woes. 
 
 In nothing more thy vertue proou'd her power. 
 Then in thy friendlhips well aduifed choife : 
 Who lou'd thee once, ftill loues thee to this houre. 
 The graue their fight, but not their loue doth clofe. 
 
 And which was more, the mightieft of the land, 
 
 Shee ioyn"'d to thee into affedlions band. 
 
 And well the greatneffe of thy minde did merit, 
 Euen that the greateft fpirits fliould thee cherifli. 
 
 Who 
 
Who of it felfe, did from it felfe inherit, 
 
 That which in great men do's but greatneffe perifh : 
 
 „ True worth is not difcern"'d by outward fhow, 
 
 „ Vertues Idaea by the minde we know. 
 
 Ah foolilh they that bragge fo much in vaine, 
 Onely by blood nobilitate to be, 
 While in their bofomes they do fcarce retaine, 
 The fmalleft fparke of magnanimity ! 
 
 I hold this for a generall Maxime good, 
 
 True honor comes from vertue as from blood. 
 
 And yet I cannot but confeffe indeed, 
 
 That vertue in a generous ftomack ftill. 
 
 Doth fliine more cleere then when it doth proceed, 
 
 From out a bafe-borne breft, marke who fo will. 
 
 For why thy worth had ne're fo cleerly Ihin^d, 
 
 Had not thy birth beene equall to thy minde. 
 
 Without affeftion I mull truely fay, 
 Thou waft a well-bome Gentleman by birth, 
 Com'd of a race nere fpotted to this day. 
 Thine anceftors were men of noble worth, 
 
 Famous in bloud, in vertue and in name. 
 
 And all, as thou, went to the graue with fame. 
 
 Whereof this comfort doth arife I fee, 
 To thofe that lou'd thy life, condoles thy death. 
 Though thou be dead in part, all cannot dye. 
 Thy mindes braue conqueft fliall furuiue thy breath. 
 
 Death may well triumph on thy bodies fall, * 
 
 But thy great vertue euer florifh Ihall. 
 
 Then 
 
Then let thy ghoft goe in eternall peace, 
 To the EUfian fweet defired reft, 
 There with the happy to enioy a place, 
 To tafte the fpeechleffe pleafures of the bleft : 
 
 Still fiirfitting thofe euerlafting ioyes, 
 
 That neuer feele difturbance, or annoies. 
 
 There line ftiU happy, while I hapleffe heere, 
 
 Muft celebrate thy exequies in forrow. 
 
 Paying this tribute to thy tombe each yeere. 
 
 Of fighes and teares, which from my griefes I borrow : 
 And ah ! no wonder that I doe the fame, 
 For both I beare thy furname, and thy name. 
 
 Sonet on the death of his coii/in, Adam 
 Murray. 
 
 I Know not whether difcontent or loue, 
 (Deere friend) hath bred this thy abortiue death : 
 
 Or if that both vnited fliew'd their wrath, 
 
 To make thee this thy fatal laft to proue, 
 
 But bee the motion what it lift, did moue. 
 
 This thy vnlooFd for fad vntimely fal. 
 
 Yet with the lofle of breath thou lof 'd not al, 
 
 Thy better part ftill lines the heauens aboue, 
 
 And here thy pen immortalized thy name, 
 
 From time, obliuion, enuy, and the graue. 
 
 That to corruption now thy bones receiue. 
 
 But can no way deface thy glorious fame. 
 
 Which ftil muft fore on wings of endlefle praife. 
 While yeers haue months, months weekes, and weekes 
 
 (haue daies. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
PARAPHRASE OF 
 
 THE CIV. PSALME. 
 
 BY 
 
 DAVID MVRRAY. 
 
 Edinburgh, 
 Printed by Andro Hart. 
 
 ANNO DOM, 1615. 
 
To his facred Maieftie. 
 
 THat princely Prophet whose celestiall Vaine, 
 In sweetest Measures, §• soule-charming Layes, 
 To his deare Harpe sofealingly bewray es 
 Mans perfect Way to Pleasure and to Paine : 
 Bequeathed the Skill of his Skie-fostered Braine, 
 ( Whilst he himselfe crownd with immortall Rayes, 
 Of endlesse Glory rests, not fading Bayes) 
 Here Phcenix like to be renewd againe. 
 And as from that Arabian Birds sweet Ashe 
 One still proceedes of like admired Wing : 
 The sacred Furie of best Israels King 
 To Britanes Monarch doth so fully passe. 
 By which inflam'd He sings, that Heauens Decree, 
 None worthy Davids Muse, S^ Harpe but He. 
 
 Your Maiesties humble seruant, 
 
 Dauid Murray, 
 
A PARAPHRASE 
 
 of the CIV. PSALME. 
 
 TV /TY Soule praife thou lehouahs holie Name, 
 •^^■^ For he is great, and of exceeding Might, 
 Who cloth'd with Glorie, Maieftie, and Fame, 
 And couered with the garments of the light, 
 The azure Heauen doth hke a Courtaine fpred. 
 And in the depths his chalraer beames hath layd. 
 
 The Clouds he makes his chariot to be, 
 On them he wheeles the chriftall Skies about, 
 And on the wings of JEoIus, doth Hee 
 At pleafour walke ; and fends his Angels out, 
 Swifl Heraulds that doe execute his will. 
 His words the heauens with firie lightnings fill. 
 
 The Earths foundation he did firmelie place, 
 And layd it fo that it fliould neuer flyde. 
 He made the Depths her round about embrace, 
 And like a Robe her naked fliores to hide, 
 
 Whofe waters would oVflow the Mountains high. 
 But that they backe at his rebuke doe flie. 
 
 At the dread voice of his confuming thunder, 
 As thefe retire, the mountaines in the Skie 
 Doe raife their tops, like Pyramids of wonder, 
 And at their feet the pleafant valleys lie, 
 
 And to the floods he doth prefcribe a Bound, 
 That they Earths beautie may no more confound. 
 
The fertile Plaines he doth refrefli and cheare 
 With pleafant Streames which from the Mountaines fall, 
 To which (to quench their Thirll) all Beafles draw neare, 
 Euen to the AlTe whom neuer Yoake did thrall : 
 And on the Trees by euery chryftall Spring, 
 Heauens Quiriflers doe fweetly bill and fing. 
 
 The thirftie Tops of Skie-menacing Hils 
 He from the Clouds refrelheth with his Raine, 
 And with the Goodnes of his Grace he fills 
 The Earth, with all that doth therein remaine, 
 He caufeth her both Man and Beaft to feede 
 The wholefome Herbes, and tender Graffe to breede. 
 
 The fruitfuU Yuie ftrict-embracing Vine, 
 To glad Mans Heart he hath ordaind and made, 
 And giues him oyle to make his Face to fliine, 
 And to encreafe his Strength, and Courage breede, 
 
 The mighty Trees are nourifhd by his hand, 
 
 The Cedars tall in Lebanon that fland. 
 
 On Whofe wide-fpreading, high and bufliie Tops, 
 The flightering Birds may build their Nefts in peace, 
 And in the Firre that pitchie Teares foorth drops. 
 He hath preparde the StorTce a dwelling Place. 
 The Mountaines are vnto the Goates refuge. 
 And in the Rockes the Porcupines doe lodge. 
 
 He hath appointed Seafons for the Moone, 
 To fade, to grow, whiles fair to looke, whiles wane. 
 And makes bright Phoebus when the Day is done, 
 In THETIS Lappe to diue his head againe : 
 He clowdes the Skies, and doth in Darknes pight, 
 Ou'r all the Earth the Courtaines of the Night. 
 
Then all the beaftes from out the forreft creepe, 
 To feeke his pray the Lyon loudlie roares, 
 The Serpents hifle, the Crocodile doth weepe, 
 As if fhe would bewaile them Ihe deuoures, 
 And when the Sunne returnes they all retire, 
 And in their Dennes doe couch them felues for feare. 
 
 And then doth man in fafetie freelie goe. 
 To ply his worke with diligence till Night, 
 They wondrous wonders who, O Lord, can fliow ? 
 The earth is filled with thy Glory bright. 
 And thou haft ftor''d the Deepe-wyd Ocean Sea, 
 With Filh, Beafts, Monfters, nomberles that be. 
 
 There doe the Winged Wooden Forts forth goe, 
 To climbe the glaffie mountaines with their Keeles, 
 There Liuiathan wanders to and fro. 
 And through the waltring Billows tumbling reeles, 
 Who in that Liquid Labyrinth enclof 'd 
 Doth play and fport as thou him haft difpofd. 
 
 All lining things, O Lord, doe wait on thee 
 That in due feafon thou mayft giue them food. 
 And thou vnfolds thy hberall hands moft free 
 And giues them euerie thing may doe them good : 
 Thy bleffings thou fo plenteouflie diftills, 
 That their aboundance all things breathing fills. 
 
 But if thy face thou doe withdraw in wrath. 
 Thy creatures all then languifli, grieue and mume. 
 Or if thou angrie take away their breath. 
 They perilh ftraight and into duft returne : 
 
 But when thy Sprite thou fends them to renew, 
 All frefli doth flowrifh, Earth regaines her hue. 
 
In his moft glorious workes let God reioyce, 
 Who makes the Earth to tremble with a looke, 
 Let men admire, and Angels with their voice 
 ExtoU his Name whofe touch makes Mountaines fmooke ; 
 To this thought-paffing fpeech-expreflelTe, Lord, 
 While Breath extends will I flill praife afford. 
 
 He will receiue my humble fute in loue. 
 And in his fauour I fhall euer joye, 
 The wicked from the Earth he will remoue. 
 And whoUie heauen-difpifing wormes deftroy. 
 But whilfl they buried lie in endleffe Ihame, 
 My Soule praife thou lehouahs holy Name. 
 
 D. M 
 
 FINIS. 
 
To the Author, 
 
 [WILLIAM DRUMMOND OF HAWTHORN-DENNE, 
 
 Prefixed to his Poems. Edinburgh, Printed by Andre Hart, 1616. 
 
 4to. sign. M. 3.] 
 
 rilHE filler Nymphes, who haunt the Thefpian Springs, 
 -■- Ne're did their Gifts more liberally bequeath 
 To them, who on their hills fuck'd facred Breath, 
 Than unto thee, by which thou fvveetly fings. 
 Ne're did Apollo raife on Pegafe Wings 
 A Mufe more neare himfelfe, more farre from Earth, 
 Than thine ; if Shee doe weepe thy Ladies Death, 
 Or fing thofe fweet-fowre Panges which PaJJion brings. 
 To write our Thoughts in Verfe doth merite Praife, 
 But thofe our Verfe to gild in FiBiorfs Ore, 
 Bright, rich, delightfull, doth deferue much more. 
 As thou haft done thefe thy delicious Layes : 
 
 Thy Mufe^s Morning (doubtleffe) doth bewray 
 The neare Approach of a more gliftring Day. 
 
 D. Murray.