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EBBA 32154

Huntington Library - Britwell
Ballad XSLT Template
An Epitaph upon the death of the right
honorable Edward Earle of Darby, Lorde Stanly and
Strange of Knocking, Lord and Governour of the Isles of Man,
Knight of the Noble order of the Garter, and one of
the Queenes Majesties most honorable privie
Counsell. Deceased the .xxiiii. of Novem.
1572.

SHall shaking hande with drilling teares, deliver rural verse?
my mourning Muse doth bid me staye, unable to reherse.
The noble actes of Derby Earle, that late had breath and life:
who was through Realme and forren land, beloved of man and wife.
But sure as teares doe ease the heart, that plunged is in paine:
and Sorrow shee will belch foorth sobbes, in seeking rest againe.
Can countrie now at once refuse, with dolors thus opprest?
To shed foorth teares, sith Darbye Earle, is thus now clapt in chest.
Who though in yeres he was, more fitter for the grave,
then long to live, yet may wee saye, to soone did death deprave.
This noble valiaunt Earle, of his aspiring breath:
whose sage advise thus lost may be, his countries seconde death.
Though hee in Ormeschurch lye, inclosed now in slime:
yet shall his factes inforce his fame, up to the skies to clime,
Though ougly Mors with spight, have reft him of his life:
yet shall his worthy deedes declare, his knowledge was full rife.
That hee in setting joynt and bone, as stanching blooddie wounde,
to fewe that Chirurgery doth professe, so much doth understande.
Let Sicophantes that nowe doe seeke, by this his death to rayse:
yet let them knowe his worthy factes, hath merited great prayse.
No fines no time he raysde, but Tenauntes were content:
and yet ye shall not heare of worlde, hee greatly raysde his rent.
No toyler in the lawe, though he had profred wrong:
nor yet would seeme to ppresse his foe, though he was mightie strong.
But hee by meekenesse made, his foe to be his friende:
the wisest way, all wisemen saye, all quarrels so to ende.
You nobles doe beholde, your peere doe not forget:
who did not long in Marchauntes booke, delight to stande in det.
Who knewe the Marchauntes trade, his money was his plow:
and would not payment long delaye, that dishonour should not grow.
Oh noble Earle of stature meane, but yet of manly hart:
in Scotland thou, with Northfolke Duke, at Kelzey playde thy part.
Of Darby Earle, as Lorde of man, and of the Garter Knight:
and one that in his Princes grace, had very much delight.
Both for his fayth the which, unto hir grace he owde:
and also for his wisdome grave, in counsayle often showed.
A mind that did delight, in yelding Justice dewe,
an eare still bending downe to heare, poore Sewtors that did sewe.
A hart that rude the plight, of those that were opprest:
a knee to bende to Princely throne, to have their cause redrest.

A foote that readie was, to ryde, to runne, or go:
to helpe the weake that Mydas might, was like to overthro.
An eye that single was, and not with lucre staind:
a hande to helpe the hungrie poore, he in nowise refraind.
How many now shall want, to have wherewith to feede?
their hungrie corpes which in his life, receyved reliefe at neede.
What mourning make his friendes, of him that are bereft?
what mourning make his yomen all, that he behinde hath left?
How doth his neyghbours all, that dwell in Lancashire?
with sobbes and teares they doe deplore, this death of his to heare.
With teares we all are forst, this noble Earle to wayle:
although that death hath brought to him, a life of greater vayle.
Though Mors his corpes have seast, that daunger none coulde daunt:
yet in his ende a subject true, as fame shall aye avaunt.
No Traytor coulde him traine, at no time to rebell:
nor Papist coulde him ought perswade, he liked them not so well.
To deale by their device, to holde with Scottish dame:
nor Duke thats dubd, nor Percies pride, that sought their countries bane.
Though Papistes him extoll, and make the worlde beleeve:
yet at his death he them renounst, and to his Christ did cleave.
Hee knewe their trash be suche on, Masse he did not builde.
but onely calde one Jesu Christ, to helpe him win the fielde.
And thus hee died in Christ, no helpe he sought from Pope:
but in the death and bloud of Christ, he put his fixed hope.
Though slowe of tongue to talke, of curious questions fine:
yet one that read the Scriptures much, no doubt a good Devine.
He practizd that in life, that he in Scriptures founde:
and so he built upon the rocke, and not on shiveling sonde.
No bloode he brought in Maries dayes, to burne or for to broyle:
nor well he likt of Spanish pride, that sought this Realme to spoyle.
Now is this Earle from Lathum gone, tourne horse another awaye:
the saint is fled, though shrine remaine, where he was woont to staye.
Let Lancashyre, and Chesshyre both, with teares bring Corpes to grave:
For loe, his happie soule in heaven, the blessed Aungels have.
As hee in honour runne, a happie race to ende:
So to his sonne now Noble Earle, God graunt him grace to bend.
To treade his Fathers trace, to staye in Gospell pure:
so shall he live in fathers fame, that ever shall endure.


Vinat post funera Virtus.
John Denton Minist.
Imprinted at London by W. Williamson, dwelling in Distaffe Lane.

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