His Body was conveyed into England, and most honourably interred in the Church of St. Paul in London; over which was fixed this Epitaph: 

England, Netherland, the Heavens, and the Arts, All Souldiers, and the World have made fix parts Of the Noble Sidney; for none will suppose That a small heap of Stones can Sidney enclose:  England hath his Body, for she it bred; Netherland his Blood, in her defence shed; The Heavens his Soul, the Arts his Fame; All Soldiers the Grief, the World his good Name.

To recite the Commendations given him by several Authors, would of it self require a Volume; to rehearse some few not unpleasing to the Reader.  The reverend Cambden writes thus; This is that Sidney, whom, as God’s will was, he should be therefore born into the world even to shew unto our Age a Sample of ancient Virtues.  Doctor Heylin in his Cosmography calleth him, That gallant Gentleman of whom he cannot but make honourable mention.  Mr. Fuller in his Worthies thus writes of him, His homebred Abilities perfected by Travel with foreign accomplishments, and a sweet Nature, set a gloss upon both. Stow in his Annals, calleth him, a most valiant and towardly Gentleman. Speed in his Chronicle, That worthy Gentleman in whom were compleat all Virtues and Valours that could be expected to reside in man:  And Sir Richard Baker gives him this Character, A man of so many excellent parts of Art and Nature, of Valour and Learning, of Wit and Magnanimity, that as he had equalled all those of former Ages, so the future will hardly be able to equal him.

Nor was this Poet forgotten by the Poets; who offered whole Hecatombs of Verses in his praise.  Hear first that Kingly Poet, or Poetical King, King James the first, late Monarch of Great Britain, who thus writes,

Armipotens cui jus in fortia pectora Mayors, Tu Dea quae cerebrum perrumpere digna totantis, Tuque adeo bijugae proles Latonia rupis Gloria, decidua cingunt quam collibus artes, Duc tecum, & querelis Sidnaei funera voce Plangite; nam vester fuerat Sidnaeus alumnus, Quid genus, & proavos, & spem, floremque juventae, Immaturo obituraptum sine retexo?  Heu frustra queror? heu rapuit Mors omnia secum?  Et nihil ex tanto nunc est Heroe superstes, Praeterquam Decus & Nomen virtute paratum, Doctaque Sidneas testantia Carmina laudes.

Thus translated by the said King: 

  Thou mighty Mars, the Lord of Soldiers brave,
  And thou Mirnerve, that dost in wit excel,
  And thou Apollo, who dost knowledge have
  Of every Art that from Parnassus fell,
  With all your Sisters that thereon do dwell,
  Lament for him who duly serv’d you all: 
  Whom in you wisely all your Arts did mell,
  Bewail (I say) his unexpected fall,