MS. Fairfax 40. 287 



[p. 641] The teares of France for the 



deplorable death of Henry 4 

 surnamed the Great 



Ah is itt then Great Henry soe fam'd 

 For taming men himselfe by death is tam'd 

 Whatt eye his glory saw now his sad doome 

 But must desolue in Teares sigh out his Soule 

 Soe small a shred of Earth should him intombe 

 Whos acts deseru'd pocession of the whole 



O t'is but fitt for joyes we henceforth mourne 

 Our songes & mirth into sad plaints we turne 

 Instead of this great King greefe may raigne here 

 So thatt in sorrow plung'd our fainting breath 

 May send our endless sighs to th'highst Sphere 

 Whilst hopless teares distill vpon the earth 



[p. 642] Yis itt is htt what else can we returne 

 Butt teares as offrings to his sacred vrne 

 W^ them his Sable Marble tombe bedew 

 No no such armes too weake sence itt apeares 

 For vs he of his blood too careless grew 

 Haue we naught else for him butt a few teares 



O could our eyes to fontains we distill 

 T' Would nott abaite the least part of our ill 

 We oft shed teares for simple wrongs oft weepe 

 Too Cornon oft for things of lesser prise 

 Then lett vs die att this great Monarchs feet 

 His Tombe th' Alter, our selues, the sacrifice 



But who can die if Sisters Fate denies 

 A closure to our half death trickling eyes 

 Hauing shut vp those of this warrlike Prince 

 Atropos so proud's of her royal pray 

 Her Cypriss into laurels will turne, Sence 

 Of this great Victor she hath gott the day 



[p. 643] But sence we are ordain'd to sigh & Hue 

 And after tliis ther faitall stroke then giue 

 Line then complaining this sad shock of Fate 

 Wher happy da3's are gone, no ioy ajijieares 

 Tlien mourne & sigh till death our greefe abate 

 And shew whilst lining, Life shal wast in teares 



