William Byrd

I've set myself up quite comfortably in the library to get some serious research done for my paper on the Masses of William Byrd. I've been amusing myself with looking up obscure pieces mentioned in his biography, and in my travels came across this poem. It was inspired by the martyrdom of St. Edmund Campion and his two companions, set to music by Byrd as a kind of recommitment to the Catholic cause during the Elizabethan persecutions.

1.
Why do I use my paper, ink and pen,
And call my wits to counsel what to say?
Such memories were made for mortal men;
I speak of Saints whose names cannot decay.
An Angel's trump were fitter for to sound
Their glorious death if such on earth were found

2.
That store of such were once on earth pursued,
The histories of ancient times record,
Whose constancy great tyrants' rage subdued
Though patient death, professing Christ the Lord:
As his Apostles perfect witness bare,
With many more that blessed Martyrs were.

3.
Whose patience rare and most courageous mind,
With fame renowned perpetual shall endure,
By whose examples we may rightly find,
Of holy life and death a pattern pure.
That we therefore their virtues may embrase
Pray we to Christ to guide us with his grace.