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EBBA 32226

Huntington Library - Britwell
Ballad XSLT Template
An Epytaphe uppon the Death of the
Right Reverend and learned Father in God, J. Juell, Doctor of
Divinitie and Bishop of Sarisburie. Whom God called
to his marcie the .22. of September. 1571.

THe Juell of our joye is gone, the happie heavens have wonne,
The greatest gift that ever was, with us beneth the sonne:
Which makes such weepinge eyes, in Sallesbury they saye,
As all the ronning streames therof, can never washe awaye.
(Alas) is Juell dead, the folder of the flocke,
If Death have caught the Diall up, then who shall keepe the Clocke?
O God, what greefe is this, thye charie Churche should want,
A Bishoppe of so good a grace, wher good men be so skant:
Wee feare the plague (they saye) but such a plague as this,
Sithens I was borne I never knewe, nor never shall iwis:
Yet are there some behinde, I trust will learne to knowe,
How Juell to his dieng daye, his Talents did bestowe.
So busie at his booke, to bring the truth to light,
As they that lyke the redie way, maye looke and finde it right,
His house and housholde was so kept for his degree,
As Paull in his Epistles wrightes a Bisshoppes house should bee:
His Diocesse I beleeve, hee kept in so good awe,
As Vertue is content to sweare, they lived within her lawe.
His handes and harte were free, the needie could not lacke,
Such peace and concorde planted hee, as nothing went to wracke:
And charie went to Churche, himselfe by breake of daye,
That his example might procure, the rest to go that waye:
And gave unto his men, their dueties when hee died,
With large and Lordlie recompence, this can not bee denied.
(Alas) with piteous mone, all Christians nowe maye weepe,
That wee have such a Shepard gone: God helpe the selie sheepe:
Meethinkes I see in heaven, triumphant truth appeare,
And faythfulnes, which speake alowde, let Juell nowe come neare.
Th appostelles all do prease, meethinckes to see his face:
And all the Angells go about to bring him to his place:
Even Christ himselfe mee thinkes, I see begins to smile,
And saith: beholde my chosen frend, I lookte for all this while.
And Abraham rendes his clothes, and bowells out his brest,
And sayth to Juell jumpe in here, and take thye quiet rest.


Finis
Quod. W. Elderton.
Imprynted at London, in Fleetestreate beneath the Conduit at the
signe of S. John Evangelist by Thomas Colwell.

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