%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> AN / ELEGIE / Sacred to the Memory of / Sir Edmund-bury Godfrey Knight; / Whose Body was lately found Barbarously Murthered, and since / Honourably Interr'd, the 31th of October, 1678. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center Director Patricia Fumerton 1678-1678 Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 05/08/2012 32431

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

R8152 AN ELEGIE! forbear: who ere profanes / This lasting Name with cheap unhallowed strains, Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 183907 AN / ELEGIE / Sacred to the Memory of / Sir Edmund-bury Godfrey Knight; / Whose Body was lately found Barbarously Murthered, and since / Honourably Interr'd, the 31th of October, 1678. AN ELEGIE Sacred to the Memory of Sir Edmund-bury Godfrey Knight; Whose Body was lately found Barbarously Murthered, and since Honourably Interr'd, the 31th of October, 1678. AN ELEGY Sacred to the Memory of Sir Edmund-bury Godfrey Knight; Whose Body was lately found Barbarously Murdered, and since Honorably Interred, the 31th of October, 1678. 1678-1678 L.C.

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 5/8/2012 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America death virtue Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 5/8/2012 1:35:32 PM XBallad Kroeze, Kathryn Created XML Version of Ballad 5/8/2012 1:35:32 PM Transcription Supervisor Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 1:35:32 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Meyer, Shannon Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 1:35:32 PM Transcriptionist Two Hong, Sue Transcription of ballad manuscript 5/8/2012 1:35:32 PM Transcriptionist One Lester, Hillary Transcription of ballad manuscript 8/4/2011 Checker Percy Ross Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 5/11/2011 Bibliographer Shannon Meyer Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created
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AN ELEGIE! forbear: who ere profanes This lasting Name with cheap unhallowed strains, Commits a Murther second to their Guilt, By whose infernal Hands his Blood was spilt. So vast a Merit, and so strange a Fate, Must not be Blazond at the common Rate; With mercenary Rhyme, Set-forms of Praise, Or stale Applauses which bold Flatterers raise To pin upon some Herse, whose waiting throng Mourn onely cause the party livd so long. Those customary Sighs have here no part; We Weep in earnest, and untaught by Art. Slight Griefs may speak aloud; but those that come From deep Resentments of our Loss, are dumb. As when fierce Thunder the Worlds Poles doth shake, Or Winds break Jail, and make the Earth to quake. Mortals amazd, can scarce express their Fears; But onely court Heavns aid with silent Prayers: So this dire Fact (which equal Terrour brought) Stifles our Reason, and Benums our Thought. A Chilling Horrour thrils through every Vein; Each honest man by Sympathy is slain, Or feels with Him, though not the Death, the pain. Tis dangerous to be Good: well may we praise Vertue or Innocence; but who can raise A powr that shall secure them, or withstand Th Assassinations of a bloody Hand? He whose clear Life might an Example be Of upright Justice, generous Charity; That publique spirit that laid out his Store T employ and cherish all industrious Poor; And ner with any did a Feud profess, But busie Treason, and lewd Idleness: Whose Actions were not framd meerly for sight, Like artful Pieces placd in a fit light, That they may take at distance; but appear Most fair when you observe them most, and near. This LOYAL PATRIOT, by untimely Fate, And basest cruelties of unjust Hate, Falls as a Victim for the Church and State. Could we have seen with what composed Eyes He entertaind th astonishing surprize; How he with Christian grandeur did engage Their sharpest Malice, and their utmost Rage; T had filld our mindes with thoughts enlargd and high, And taught unhappy Heroes how to die. Methinks t observe how Vertue draws faint breath, Subject to Slanders, Plots, and Violent Death; How many dangers on best actions wait, Right checkd by Wrong, and ill men fortunate:
These movd Effects from an unmoved Cause, Might shake an easie Faith; Heavns sacred Laws Might casual seem, and our irregular Sense Spurn at just Order, and blame Providence: Did we not know, theres an adored Will In all that happs to Men, or Good, or Ill, Sufferd, or sent; and what is Man to pry, Into th Abyss of such a Mystery? The Rising Sun to mortal sight reveals This lower Globe; but the bright Stars conceals. So may our Sense discover natural things; But those Divine soar above Humane Wings. Then not the Fate, but Fates bad Instrument Let us accuse, in each sad accident. Good men must die: Rapes, Incest, MURTHERS come; But Woe and Curses follow them by whom. God Authors all mens Actions, not their Sin; For that proceeds from devlish Lust within. Nor let the barbarous Actors hug their Crime, Because they lurk concealed for a time: Heavn sees, and will expose what they have done, No doubt, ere long, to Justice and the Sun. Mean time, loaded with Blood, Horrour, and Fear, And that which crowns all Villany, Despair; May they possess their PURGATORY here, And as Cains sin, so his Self-tortures bear. May they the wounding stripes of Conscience feel, That lashes Guilt with whips of flaming steel, So long, till they shall count Deaths pains far less, And freely come the Murther to confess. But as when stinking Exhalations rise, And with black storms invade the purer skies; They cannt put out the Sun, though hide his Rays, Which quickly he more gloriously displays: So these vile hands in their Revenge are poor; In murthering Him, their Cause they murther more. Hells Agents do but hasten him Heavns way, And Powrs of darkness antedate his day. In vain, in vain, is all their cursed spight: He still survives in Fields of blissful light, And with a pitying smile from thence looks down, Ennobled with a Martyrs brighter Crown; Whilst at th Interment of his slumbering Clay, A weeping Nation shall just Honours pay.
FINIS. H.C. Licensd, Octob. 30. 1678. LONDON: Printed for L.C. 1678.