IDENTILIN$$ F146C02|Sorrow|CUL MS Add.5778(Cambridge Balam)|f.29 146.C02.0HE Elegye. 8th. [29] 146.C02.001 Sorrowe, who to this house, scarce knew the way 146.C02.002 Is, oh, heyre of yt, our All is his prey. 146.C02.003 This strange chance, claymes strange wonder, & to vs 146.C02.004 Nothinge can be soe strange, as to weepe thus. 146.C02.005 T'is well his lyfes loud speakeinge workes deserve, 146.C02.006 And giue prayse too, our cold tongues could not sterve: 146.C02.007 T'is well, he kept teares from our eyes before 146.C02.008 That to fitt this deepe ill, we might haue store 146.C02.009 Oh, If a sweete Bryer, climbe vp by a Tree 146.C02.010 Yf to a Paradice that transplanted bee, 146.C02.011 Or pilld, and burnt for holy Sacrifice, 146.C02.012 Yet y%5t%6 must weather, w%5ch%6 by yt did ryse, 146.C02.013 As we for him deade: Though noe famylye 146.C02.014 Ere riggd a Soule for heavens discoverye. 146.C02.015 W%5th%6 whome more Venterers more boldlye dare 146.C02.016 Venter theyre States w%5th%6 him in Joy to share. 146.C02.017 We loose what all freinds lou'd, Him, He gaynes now 146.C02.018 But lyfe by death, w%5ch%6 worst Foes woulld allowe. 146.C02 019 Yf he could haue Foes, in whose practise grewe 146.C02.020 All vertues, whose names subtile Schoolemen knewe. 146.C02.021 What ease, can hope y%5t%6 we shall see him, begett 146.C02.022 When we must dye first, and cannot dye yett, 146.C02.023 His Children are his Pictures, Oh they Bee 146.C02.024 Pictures of him dead, senceles, colld as hee, 146.C02.025 Here needs no marble ston, since he'is gone, 146.C02.026 He, and about him, his, are tourn'd to Stone. 146.C02.0SS om 146.C02.0$$ among the love elegies