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Songs of Mourning:

John Coprario



To the world


O poore distracted world, partly a flaue
      To Pagans sinnefull rage, partly obscur' d
With ignorance of all the meanes that saue,
      And eu' n those parts of thee that liue assur' d
Of heau' nly grace : Oh how they are deuided
With doubts late by a Kingly penne decided ?
      O happy world, if what the Sire begunne
      Had beene clos' d vp by his religious Sonne.


Mourne all you soules opprest vnder yoake
      Of Christian-hating Thrace; neuer appear' d
More likelyhood to haue that blacke league broke,
      For such a heauenly prince might well be fear' d
Of earthly fiends :   Oh how is Zeale inflamed
With power, when truth wanting defence is shamed
      O princely soule rest thou in peace, while wee
      In thine expect the hopes were ripe in thee.




Online text copyright ©, Harald Lillmeyer, 2003