A hed, where wisdom misteries did frame:
Whose hammers bet styll in that liuely brayn,
As on a stithe: where that some work of fame
Was dayly wrought, to turne to Britaines gayn.
A visage, stern, and myld: where bothe did grow,
Vice to contemne, in vertue to reioyce:
Amid great stormes, whom grace assured so,
To lyue upright, and smile at fortunes choyce.
A hand, that taught, what might be sayd in ryme:
That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unparfited, for time)
Some may approche, but neuer none shall hit.
A toung, that serued in forein realmes his king:
Whose courteous talke to vertue did enflame.
Eche noble hart: a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth, by trauail, unto dame.
An eye, whose iudgement none affect could blinde,
Frendes to allure, and foes to reconcile:
Whose persing loke did represent a mynde
With vertue fraught, reposed, voyd of gyle.
A hart, where drede was neuer so imprest,
To hyde the thought, that might the trouth auance:
In neyther fortune lost, nor yet represt,
To swell in wealth, or yeld unto mischance.
A valiant corps, where force, and beawty met:
Happy, alas, to happy, but for foes:
Liued, and ran the race, that nature set:
Of manhodes shape, where she the molde did lose.
But to the heauens that simple soule is fled:
Which left with such, as couet Christ to know,
Witnesse of faith, that neuer shall be ded:
Sent for our helth, but not receiued so.
Thus, for our gilte, this iewel haue we lost:
The earth his bones, the heauens possesse his gost.