But nowe what remedye? he is vncouerable, Touchyd by the handes of God that is moost just; But yet agayne a cause moost confortable We haue, wherin of ryght reioys we must, His sone on lyue in beaute, force, and lust, In honour lykely Traianus to shede; Wherfore in hym put we our hope and trust, Syth Henry his fader, alas, alas, lyeth dede! And nowe, for conclusyon, aboute his herse Let this be grauyd for endeles memorye, With sorowfull tunes of Thesyphenes verse; Here lyeth the puyssaunt and myghty Henry, Hector in batayll, Vlyxes in polecy, Salamon in wysdome, the noble rose rede, Creses in rychesse, Julyus in glory, Henry the Seuenth ingraued here lyeth dede! [277] _Elegy on King Henry the Seventh_] From an imperfect broadside in the Douce Collection, now in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. This unique piece formerly belonged to Dr. Farmer, who has written on it, “Qu. the author of this Elegy? Per _J. Skelton_, tho’ not in his works?” to which Douce has added, “The Doctor is probably right in what he says concerning the Elegy on Henry the Seventh, which is a singular curiosity.” At the top of the original is a woodcut, representing the dead king, lying on a bed or bier, crowned and holding his sceptre; on one side the royal arms, on the other the crown resting on a full-blown rose, which has the king’s initials in its centre. Henry died April 21st, 1509: see note, p. 214. VOX POPULI, VOX DEI.[278] Mr. Skeltone, poete.[279] To the Kinges moste Exellent Maiestie.[280]