Epitaphe upon the worthy and
Honorable Lady, the Lady Knowles.
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DEath with his Darte hath us berefte,
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A Gemme of worthy fame,
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A Pearle of price, an Ouche of praise,
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the Lady Knowles by name.
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A Myrroure pure of womanhoode,
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a Bootresse and and a stay,
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To all that honest were, she was
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I say both locke and kaye.
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Among the Troupes of Ladies all,
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and Dames of noble race,
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She counted was, (and was indeede)
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in Ladie Fortunes grace.
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In favoure with our noble Queene,
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above the common sorte,
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With whom she was in credit greate,
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and bare a comely porte.
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There seemde between our Queene & Death,
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Contencion for to be,
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Which of them both more entier love,
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to her could testifie.
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The one in state did her advaunce,
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and place in dignitie,
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That men thereby might knowe, to doe,
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what princes able be.
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Death made her free from worldly carke,
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from sicknes, paine and strife,
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And hath ben as a gate, to bringe
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her to eternall life.
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By Death therfore she hath receivde,
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a greater boone I knowe:
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For she hath made a chaunge, whose blisse,
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no mortall wight can showe.
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She here hath loste the companie,
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of Lords and Ladies brave,
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Of husband, Children, frendes and kinne,
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and Courtly states full grave.
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In Lieu wherof, she gained hath
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the blessed companie
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Of Sainctes, Archangels, Patriarches,
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and Angelles in degree.
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With all the Troupes Seraphicall,
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which in the heavenly Bower,
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Melodiously with one accord,
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Ebuccinate Gods power.
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Thus are we sure: for in this world
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she led a life so right,
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That ill report could not distaine,
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nor blemish her with spight.
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She traced had so cunningly,
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the path of vertues lore,
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Prefixing God omnipotent,
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her godly eyes before:
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And all her dedes preciselie were,
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so rulde by reasons Squire,
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That all and some might her beholde,
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from vice still to retire.
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The vertues all, the Muses nine,
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and Graces three agreed,
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To lodge within her noble breast,
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while she in Earth did feede.
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A head so straight and beautified,
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with wit and counsaile sounde,
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A minde so cleane devoide of guyle,
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is uneth to be founde.
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But gone she is, and left the Stage
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of this most wretched life,
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Wherin she plaid a stately part,
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till cruell Fates with knife:
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Did cut the line of life in twaine,
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who shall not after goe?
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When time doth come, we must all hence,
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Experience teacheth so.
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Examples daily manifolde,
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before our eyes we see,
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Which put us in remembraunce,
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of our fragilitie.
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And bid us watch at every tide,
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for Death our lurking foe,
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Sith dye we must, most certainely,
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but when, we do not knowe.
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Som which today are lusty Brutes,
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of age and courage ripe,
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Tomorow may be layd full lowe,
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by Death his grevous gripe.
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Respect and parcialitie
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of persons is there none,
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For King, or Kaiser, rich or poore,
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wise, foolish, all is one.
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God graunt that we here left behinde,
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this Ladies steppes may treade,
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To live so well, to die no worse,
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Amen, as I have saide.
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Then maugre Death, we shall be sure,
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when corps in earth is closde,
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Amonge the joyes celestiall,
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our Soule shal be reposde.
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