IDENTILIN$$ F146B46|Sorrow|BL Stowe MS 961|p.162,f.81 146.B46.0HE Funerall Elegie: [ornament] [81] 146.B46.001 Sorrowe, which to this house scarce knew the way 146.B46.002 Is oh! heyre of it. our all is his pray. 146.B46.003 This strange Chance, claimes strange wonder, and to us 146.B46.004 Nothinge can be so strange, as to weepe thus: 146.B46.005 Tis well his lifes=loude speakinge works deserue 146.B46.006 And giue praise too, our colde tongues could not serue 146.B46.007 Tis well, he kept teares from our eyes before 146.B46.008 That to fitt this deepe ill, we might haue store. 146.B46.009 Oh, If a Sweet bryar climbe vp by a tree 146.B46.010 If to a paradise that transplanted bee 146.B46.011 Or feld and burn't for holy Sacrifice 146.B46.012 Yet that must wither, which by it did rise: 146.B46.013 As we: for him dead: thoughe no family 146.B46.014 Eare Rigd a Soule for heauens discouery 146.B46.015 With whome more Ventorous more boldly dare 146.B46.016 Venter theire states with him in ioy to share. 146.B46.017 We lose what all things lou'de; him; he gaines nowe 146.B46.018 But life by death, which worst foes would allowe. 146.B46 019 If he could haue foes, in whose practise grewe 146.B46.020 All virtues, whose names subtlest Schoolemen knew 146.B46.021 What ease, can hope we shall see him, beget 146.B46.022 When we must dye first; and cannot dye yet? 146.B46.023 His Children are his Pictures; oh they bee 146.B46.024 Pictures of him, dead, senceles, colde as he. 146.B46.025 Here needs no marble tombe since he is gone 146.B46.026 He, and about him, his, are turnd to stone. 146.B46.0SS Finis/ [two ornaments] 146.B46.0$$ Lines 25 & 26 ind.