On worthy Queen on mighty Realme on God above of frauncys thi[s] greate prince made rich divisions thre His lyvinge soule, his Roiall corps his constant love which treasors in one Tombe coulde not contayned bee His soule to heaven with joye asspirde from whence it came his Corps fraunc[e] held; which lyvinge fraunce had claymd His love was faire Elyzabeths whoe bredd the same and death that made this spoile; of hymm no spoile retaynde Blin[d de]athe wearte thow not blynd, but hadst thi perfecte sighte t[o see the] faithfull teares that Englands Soverayn shedd Those lovelye Eyes with dropps of ruthe had pearste thy spighte and forste the bringe agayne hir darlinge from the deade But why is hee deamde deade on hye that lyvinge ys because t[hat] heare belowe his bryttle race ys runne O Phoenix off this age with wo[e] wronge nott his blisse of grace dispearc those clowdes that overshads our sunne. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE ODE TO FEAR by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) THE WORLD by FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER THE CREATION (A NEGRO SERMON) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON DEDICATIONS AND INSCRIPTIONS: 11. TO EDWARD THOMAS, WITH A PLAY by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |