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And that faire lampe which useth to enflame
Seemes to them basenesse, and all riches drosse,
So full their eyes are of that glorious sight,
Which they have written in theyr inward ey;
Ah, then, my hungry Soule! which long hast fed
And looke at last up to that soveraine light,
Upon the Death of the noble and vertuous Douglas Howard, daughter and beire of Henry Lord Howard,
Viscount Byndon, and wife of
Arthur Gorges, Efquier.
DEDICATED TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE THE LADIE
HELENA, MARQUESSE OF NORTHAMPTON.
BY ED. SP.
Printed for William Ponsonby.
LADY, HELENA, MARQUESSE OF
HAVE the rather presumed humbly to offer unto your Honour the dedication of this little Poëme, for that the noble and vertuous Gentlewoman, of whom it is written, was by match neere alied, and in affection greatly devoted, unto your Ladiship. The occasion why I wrote the same, was aswell the great good fame which I heard of her deceassed, as the particular goodwill which I beare unto her husband Master Arthur Gorges, a lover of learning and vertue, whose house, as your Ladiship by mariage hath honoured, so doe I find the name of them, by many notable records, to be of great antiquitie in this Realme; and such as have ever borne themselves with honourable reputation to the world, and unspotted loyaltie to their Prince and Countrey: besides, so lineally are they descended from the Howards, as that the Lady Anne Howard, eldest daughter to John Duke of Norfolke, was wife to Sir Edmund, mother to Sir Edward, and grandmother to Sir William and Sir Thomas Gorges, Knightes. And therefore I doe assure my selfe that no due honour done to the White Lyon, but will be most gratefull to your Ladiship, whose husband and children do so neerely participate with the bloud of that noble family. So in all dutie I recommend this Pamphlet, and the good acceptance thereof, to your honourable favour and protection. London, this first of Januarie, 1591.
Your Honours humbly ever.
HATEVER man he be whose heavie mynd, With griefe of mournefull great mishap opprest,
Fit matter for his cares increase would
Let reade the rufull plaint herein exprest,
But who so else in pleasure findeth sense,
In stead of them, and their sweete harmonie,