Classic Poem

As the Swan singing at his dying How'r,
So I reply from my impris'ning Tow'r:
O, could there be that pow'r but in my Verse,
T'expresse the Griefe which my sad Heart doth pierce!
The very Walls that straitly thee inclose,
Would surely weepe at reading of my woes;
Let your Eyes lend, Ile pay you every Teare,
And give you int'rest, if you doe forbeare,
Drop for a Drop, and if youle needs have Lone,
I will repay you frankely, two for one.
 Perhaps you'le thinke (your sorrowes to appease)
That words of comfort fitter were then these.
True, and in you when such perfection liveth,
As in most griefe, me now most comfort giveth:
But thinke not (J ANE ) that cowardly I faint,
To begge mans mercy by my sad complaint,
That Death so much my courage can controule,
At the departing of my living soule.
For if one life a thousand lives could bee,
All those too few to consummate with thee,
When thou this Crosse so patiently doest beare,
As if thou wert incapable of feare,
And doest no more this dissolution flie,
Then if long Age constrained thee to die.
 Yet it is strange thou art become my Foe,
And only now add'st most unto my woe;
Not that I loath what most did me delight,
But that so long deprived of thy sight:
For when I speake and would complaine my wrong,
Straight-wayes thy Name possesseth all my Tong,
As thou before me ever more didst lie
The present Object to my longing eie.
 No ominous Starre did at thy Birth-tide shine
That might of thy sad destinie divine;
'Tis only I that did thy fall perswade,
And thou by me a Sacrifice art made,
As in those Countries, where the loving Wives
With their kind Husbands end their happy Lives,
And crown'd with Garlands, in their Brides attyre,
Burne with his Body, in the Fun'rall fire;
And she the worthiest reck'ned is of all,
Whom least the Perill seemeth to appall.
 I boast not of N ORTHUMBERLANDS great Name,
(Nor of Ket conquer'd, adding to our Fame)
When he to Norfolke with his Armies sped,
And thence in Chaynes the Rebels captive led,
And brought safe Peace returning to our Dores,
Yet spred his Glory on the Easterne Shores;
Nor of my Brothers, from whose naturall Grace
Vertue may spring, to beautifie our Race;
Nor of G RAYES Match, my Children borne by thee,
Of the great Bloud undoubtedly to bee:
But of thy Vertue onely doe I boast,
That wherein I, may justly glory most.
 I crav'd no Kingdomes, though I thee did crave,
It me suffic'd, thy onely selfe to have:
Yet let me say, how ever it befell,
Me thinkes a Crowne should have becom'd thee well;
For sure thy Wisedome merited (or none)
To have beene heard with Wonder from a Throne.
When from thy Lips the counsell to each deed,
Doth as from some wise Oracle proceed;
And more esteem'd thy Vertues were to mee,
Then all that else might ever come by thee:
So chaste thy Love, so innocent thy Life,
As being a Virgin when thou wert a Wife;
So great a Gift the Heav'n on me bestow'd,
As giving that, it nothing could have ow'd:
Such was the Good I did possesse of late,
Ere Worldly Care disturb'd our quiet state;
Ere Trouble did in ev'ry place abound,
And angry Warre our former Peace did wound.
But to know this, Ambition us affords,
“One Crowne is guarded with a thousand Swords;
“To meane estates, meane Sorrowes are but showne,
“But Crownes have Cares, whose workings be unknowne.
 When D UDLEY led his Armies to the East,
Of our whole Forces gen'rally possest,
What then was thought his Enterprise could let,
Whom a grave Councell freely did abet,
That had the Judgement of the pow'rfull Lawes,
In ev'ry Point to justifie the Cause?
The holy Church a helping hand that laide,
Who would have thought that these could not have swaide?
But what alas can Parlaments availe,
Where M ARIES right must E DWARDS acts repeale?
When S UFFOLKS power doth S UFFOLKS hopes withstand,
N ORTHUMBERLAND doth leave Northumberland ;
And they that should our Greatnesse undergoe,
Us, and our actions only overthrow.
Ere greatnesse gain'd, we give it all our heart,
But being once come, wee wish it would depart,
And indiscreetly follow that so fast,
Which overtaken punisheth our haste;
 If any one doe pitty our offence,
Let him be sure that he be farre from hence:
Here is no place for any one that shall
So much as (once) commiserate our fall:
And we of mercy vainely should but thinke,
Our timelesse Teares th'insatiate earth doth drinke.
All lamentations utterly forlorne,
Dying before they fully can be borne.
Mothers that should their wofull Children rue,
Fathers in death to kindly bid adue,
Friends their deare farewell lovingly to take,
The faithfull Servant weeping for our sake;
Brothers and Sisters waiting on our Beere,
Mourners to tell what wee were living heere:
But we (alas) deprived are of all,
So fatall is our miserable fall.
And where at first for safety we were shut
Now in darke Prison wofully are put,
And from the height of our ambitious state,
Lie to repent our arrogance too late.
To thy perswasion thus I then replie;
Hold on thy course resolved still to die,
And when we shall so happily be gone,
Leave it to heaven to give the rightfull Throne,
And with that health regreet I thee againe,
Which I of late did gladly entertaine.