Epitaphes, Epigrams, Songs and Sonets

An Epitaph on the death of Maistier Arthur Brooke, drownde in pasing to New Haven.

At point to ende and finishe this my booke,

Came good report to mee, and wild me write

A dolefull verse in praise of Arthur Brooke,

That age to come lament his fortune might.

Agreede (quoth I) for sure his vertues were

As many as his yeares in number few:

The muses him in learned laps did beare,

And Pallas dug this daintie bab did chew.

Apollo lent him lute, for solace sake

To sound his verse by touch of stately string,

And of the never fading baye did make

A lawrell crowne, about his browes to cling ;

In proufe that he for myter did excell,

As may be iudge by Julyet and hir mate ;

For there he shewde his cunning passing well,

When he the tale to English did translate.

But what? as he to forraine realme was bownd

With others moe, his soveraigne queene to serve,

Amid the seas unluckie youth was drownd ;

More speedie death than such one did deserve.

Aye mee! that time (thou crooked delphin) where

Waft thou, Aryons help and onely stay,

That safely him from sea to shore didst beare?

When Brooke was drownd why waft you then away?

If found of harp thine eare delighted so,

And causer was that he bestrid thy back,

Then doubtlesse thou moughts wel on Brooke bestow

As good a turne, to save him from the wrack.

For sure his hande Aryons harp exceld,

His pleasant pen did passe the others kill:

Who so his booke with judging eie beheld

Gave thanks to him, and praisde his learned quill.

Thou cruel goulf, what meanst thou to devowre

With supping seas a jewell of such fame?

Why didst thou so with water marre the flowre

That Pallas thought so curiously to frame?

Unhappie was the haven which he fought,

Cruell the seas whercon his ship did glide,

The winds to rough that Brooke to ruine brought,

Unfkilfull he that undertooke to glide [guide].

But sithens teares can not revoke the ded,

Nor cries recall a drowned man to lande,

Let this suffice textall the life he led,

And print his prayse in house of Fame to stande,

That they that after us shall bee and live

Deserved praise to Arthur Brooke may give,

G.T. [George Turbervile]