COLLECTION NAME:
LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection
mediaCollectionId
FOLGER~3~3
LUNA: Folger Manuscript Transcriptions Collection
Collection
true
Digital Image File Name:
142288
rootfile
142288
Digital Image File Name
false
Source Call Number:
V.a.125
call_number
V.a.125
Source Call Number
false
Source Title:
A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
cd_title
A book of verses collected by me, R. Dungarvan [manuscript].
Source Title
false
Image Details:
Part II. When reading Part II, Part I is inverted and reversed.
special_instructions
Part II. When reading Part II, Part I is inverted and reversed.
Image Details
false
Source Creator:
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
author
Burlington, Richard Boyle, Earl of, 1612-1698, compiler.
Source Creator
false
Source Created or Published:
ca. 1630
imprint
ca. 1630
Source Created or Published
false
Physical Description:
folio 6 verso || folio 7 recto
page_numbers
folio 6 verso || folio 7 recto
Physical Description
false
Digital Image Type:
FSL collection
image_type
FSL collection
Digital Image Type
false
Hamnet Catalog Link:
hammet_catalog_link
http://hamnet.folger.edu/cgi-bin/Pwebrecon.cgi?BBID=229445
Hamnet Catalog Link
false
Transcription:
Worthy thy vaster Subiect, Let none dare
To coppy this sad happ but with despaire
Hanging at his Quils point; For not a streame
Of inck can write much lesse improue this Theame.
Inuention highest wraught by Greefe or Wit,
Must sink with him and on his Tombestone sit.
Who like the dying Sun tells vs the Light
And glory of our day fell in his Night.
Vpon the Lady Mary Villiers
x The Lady Mary Villiers lyes
Vnder this stone; with weeping eyes
The Parents that first gaue her breath
And those sad friends layde her in Earth
If any of them Reader were
Knowne vnto thee then shed a teare.
Or if thy selfe possesse a Gemme,
As deare to thee as shee to them
Though a stranger in this place
Bewaile in theirs thy owne sad ease
For thou perhaps at thy returne
Mayst find thy darling in an Vrne.
[7r]
On S i r Walter Rawleigh
x I will not weepe for t'were as great a sin
To shedd a teare for thee as to haue beene
An Actor in thy Death. Thy life and age
was but a various scene on Fortunes stage.
W hi ch whom though tuggs't and stone'st e'un out of breath
In thy long toile: Ne're master'd till thy death.
And then despite of traynes and cruell witt
Thou did'st at once subdue malice and it.
I dare not then soe blast thy memory,
As say I doe lament or pitty thee.
Were I to choose a subiect to bestow,
My pitty on he should be one as Low
In spirit as desert, That durst not dy,
But rather were content by slauery
To purchase life. or I would pitty those
Thy most industrious and friendly foes
Who when they thought to make thee scandals story,
Lent thee a swifter flight to heau'n and glory.
That though by cutting of some wither'd dayes
(Which thou could'st spare them to Ecclipse thy praise
Yet.
To coppy this sad happ but with despaire
Hanging at his Quils point; For not a streame
Of inck can write much lesse improue this Theame.
Inuention highest wraught by Greefe or Wit,
Must sink with him and on his Tombestone sit.
Who like the dying Sun tells vs the Light
And glory of our day fell in his Night.
Vpon the Lady Mary Villiers
x The Lady Mary Villiers lyes
Vnder this stone; with weeping eyes
The Parents that first gaue her breath
And those sad friends layde her in Earth
If any of them Reader were
Knowne vnto thee then shed a teare.
Or if thy selfe possesse a Gemme,
As deare to thee as shee to them
Though a stranger in this place
Bewaile in theirs thy owne sad ease
For thou perhaps at thy returne
Mayst find thy darling in an Vrne.
[7r]
On S i r Walter Rawleigh
x I will not weepe for t'were as great a sin
To shedd a teare for thee as to haue beene
An Actor in thy Death. Thy life and age
was but a various scene on Fortunes stage.
W hi ch whom though tuggs't and stone'st e'un out of breath
In thy long toile: Ne're master'd till thy death.
And then despite of traynes and cruell witt
Thou did'st at once subdue malice and it.
I dare not then soe blast thy memory,
As say I doe lament or pitty thee.
Were I to choose a subiect to bestow,
My pitty on he should be one as Low
In spirit as desert, That durst not dy,
But rather were content by slauery
To purchase life. or I would pitty those
Thy most industrious and friendly foes
Who when they thought to make thee scandals story,
Lent thee a swifter flight to heau'n and glory.
That though by cutting of some wither'd dayes
(Which thou could'st spare them to Ecclipse thy praise
Yet.
transcribed_information
Worthy thy vaster Subiect, Let none dare
To coppy this sad happ but with despaire
Hanging at his Quils point; For not a streame
Of inck can write much lesse improue this Theame.
Inuention highest wraught by Greefe or Wit,
Must sink with him and on his Tombestone sit.
Who like the dying Sun tells vs the Light
And glory of our day fell in his Night.
Vpon the Lady Mary Villiers
x The Lady Mary Villiers lyes
Vnder this stone; with weeping eyes
The Parents that first gaue her breath
And those sad friends layde her in Earth
If any of them Reader were
Knowne vnto thee then shed a teare.
Or if thy selfe possesse a Gemme,
As deare to thee as shee to them
Though a stranger in this place
Bewaile in theirs thy owne sad ease
For thou perhaps at thy returne
Mayst find thy darling in an Vrne.
[7r]
On S i r Walter Rawleigh
x I will not weepe for t'were as great a sin
To shedd a teare for thee as to haue beene
An Actor in thy Death. Thy life and age
was but a various scene on Fortunes stage.
W hi ch whom though tuggs't and stone'st e'un out of breath
In thy long toile: Ne're master'd till thy death.
And then despite of traynes and cruell witt
Thou did'st at once subdue malice and it.
I dare not then soe blast thy memory,
As say I doe lament or pitty thee.
Were I to choose a subiect to bestow,
My pitty on he should be one as Low
In spirit as desert, That durst not dy,
But rather were content by slauery
To purchase life. or I would pitty those
Thy most industrious and friendly foes
Who when they thought to make thee scandals story,
Lent thee a swifter flight to heau'n and glory.
That though by cutting of some wither'd dayes
(Which thou could'st spare them to Ecclipse thy praise
Yet.
Transcription
false
Credit:
Transcriptions made by Shakespeare's World volunteers (shakespearesworld.org), participants in EMROC classes and transcribathons (emroc.hypotheses.org), participants in Folger paleography classes and transcribathons, and Folger docents.