The arbor of amitie wherin is comprised pleasant poëms and pretie poesies, set foorth by Thomas Howell Gentleman. Anno. 1568.

The Arbour of Amitie

The vanitie of Beautie . FOrme is most frayle , a fading flattring showe , As brickle glasse , it vadth as grasse doth growe . The more it comes vnto the crease of yeres , The more it faylth , and lesse the front apperes . The flagrant flowres , and goodly rubie Rose , The Uiolets trim , and Lylies white that grose , Doe not alwayes retaine their sap and sent , And florishe gay , with smell most redolent . So though thou spring of beautie passing all , And bearst the flowre and fame as principall . Whose péereles view hath blasde thy forme in sight Which thou to sée in glasse takste great delight . Yet time on face so faire shall forrowes plowe , And writhed wrincles péere on blemisht browe . That thou shalt loath to sée thy ragged hewe And hate thy forme in liuely glasse to vewe . And that which thou hast most delighted on , Thou shalt it hate and wishe to die anon . This is most true , by right experience , The fayrste that euer were are sone gone hence . Lo Ladie faire , of forme there is no trust , It soone doth slip , and thou shalt réele to dust . O gréedie eyes bewitcht with things so fraile , That causeth retchlesse youth in loue to quaile . Whose witlesse heads on fansies fonde debate , Such is the slender thréed of mortall fate .

To his Friende . BEware my friende , Liue warylie At back behinde Pale death doth prie Eche howre and space Account the last , Let Lampe of grace With Oyle be fast . Then shalt thou stande In ioyes to raigne , When Uirgins fonde Shall knock in vaine . God graunt vs all To liue so right That when he call Our Lamps giue light .

Describing his lost of libertie and crauing returne of loue . ONce frée I was at libertie , My merrie minde was voyde of woe : My hart had great felicitie , I passed not for Cupids bowe . Thus frée most frée in ioyfull prime , I passe the sportes of youthfull time . Untill thy vewe as Goddesse grace In heauenly shape that did appéere , Had hent my hart in captiue case , Such was thy voyce , such was thy chéere . That thy fine forme of natures frame , The Gods aboue might well inflame . It Venus past in forme and face , Thy corps thy lims eche part so fine , Thy chéerefull chéekes thy gentle race , Thy curteous hart thy wit deuine . That hart did smart in heauie part , My fréedome fled , bounde was my hart . When first I cast my carelesse eye , Upon thy hue that drue the dart , I little thought thou shouldest lye So déepe sunck downe in my poore hart . I would full faine forgo my holde , My frée estate by wit to folde . As birde alurde in winters sore , On limed twigges that often bée , Thinkes he is frée as late before , Untill he sayes his flight to flée , He cries , he flies , in vaine he tries , On twigge in bondage there he lies . So I by lure of thy good grace , That thought my hart at libertie : Was wrapt vnwares by featurde face With most extreme captiuitie . A Beautie hath me bondman made , By loue sincere that shall not vade . Alas my panting hart so sore , That doth lament in sobbing teares : Most greedie gripes doe prick and gore , To groning graue my corps that weares . My cares and griefes doe rack my vaines , Consider thou my restlesse paines . Alas most faire and péerelesse gem , Haue mercy now , draw pittie néere , And count me not the least of them That loue thée best in hart sincéere . So thou that madste my wound so wyde , Shalt for the same a salue prouyde . My Ladie faire , ah Ladie dere , Perpend in hart my dolors great : And looke vpon thy prisonere , Whose chaines hath through his hart yfreat . And let not want of welth in place , Retract thy loue to runne his race .

He accuseth his tongue . WHy fearefull tong : what menst thou thus To fayle , thy maisters paines to paint , In matters vaine : and friuolous , Thou runst at rainge : & néedes restraint . But fewer wordes : my greater paine , The greater paine : the sooner ende , The sooner ende : the better gaine , For lesse offence : shortst life doth lende .

When he thought himselfe contemned . O Hart why dost thou sigh : and wilt not breake , O dolefull chaunce thou hast : a cause thereto For thy rewarde in loue , and kindnesse eake , Is recompenst by hate and deadly wo. Haue I so plight my heart and minde to thée : Haue I béene bent so whole vnto thy hande , And others now obtaine the fruit from me , Thou art vnkinde forsooth : such foe to stande . O dolefull hart , thus plungde in pinching paine , Lament no more , but breake thy truth to trie : For where thy comfort was and ioy did raigne , Now hate returnes , no newes , O hart now die . Lo thus the bréeding birdes , their nests do builde , But others take the gaines and fruites of them : The crooked clowne so earth the toyling fielde , But oft the crop , remaines to other men . Well time may come , wherein my fruitlesse part , So ill bestowde : some others may bewaile And wish they had , receiude my yeelding hart , Whose louing roote , tooke grounde to small auaile .

To his friende . JN hart and minde Your owne am I : Till death by kinde Shall force to die . Good vertues plant , Let truth take place : Where that doth want , There is no grace .

Being sore sicke , aunswereth his felowe enquiring whether he were willing to die . WEe flourish now , but flower shall fall , and withered fade as frayle , As yeres returnes , so length of time , causeth man and beast to quaile . Now Lady Ver in liuely gréene doth showe hir grace in fielde . Now Estas spreads the parching heate , That Titans beames do yelde . Now Autumne shewes the haruest sheaues that growe on fertill place : Now Hiemps heapes the dyke with snow and shewes hir frostie face . So first we spring in lustie youth , at state of childish yéeres , Now déeper wit as Estas ripes in grauer acts appéeres . Then manhood makth a stabled minde , none youthly prancks we haue : Now hored age with stealing steps créepes in , prepare thy graue . And thus we fleete and fall away , aswell the yong as olde : Then youthfull impe trust not on yeres , short life may make thée colde . And thus by course and chaunge of time , things mortall chaunge their way : One age doth passe , an other comes , loe Time will all decay . For thin is twist or fatall threed , on mortall whéele so spoon : Deathes howre may chaunce vnhoped for , to lose that life hath woon . Then why shoulde I once feare to die , our byding is not héere : But earth shall rot in earth againe , till righteous iudge appéere . When worlde and worldly things shall passe , but God shall dure for aye : Whose grace I craue with hart and soule , on whome I stande and staye . Now stretch my steps O Lord to run , by length of time to bee : That I may liue to die a right , and die to liue with thée .

An admonition to his friende . IF thou wilt be rightfull , Alwayes stande thou faithfull , To doe well be carefull , Note friends and be thankfull , Uaine talke flee , and learne wit , Marke wise wordes , and loue it , Alwayes pray , and boast not , Eschue pride , and vaunt not . Hate no man , disdaine not , Take time , and sleepe not . Each vertue traine iustlie , Regarde betters wiselie . Offende no Wight wronglie , And declare alwaies truelie . So God then will loue thee , And good men will prayse thée . When vertue shall clad thée , All fame shall embrace thée .

Vse Vertue . DOe well , abstaine from vice , obey thy parents will , Remember God , and learne , be wise , imbrace swéete vertue still . Marke God before thy face , vprise and pray betime : No ydle howre let passe , séeke grace , detest all heauie crime . Trie ere thou trust , take héede , haue God thy chiefest gaine , Estéeme the time before all méede , and godly lyfe retaine . Alwayes let vertues rule to thy good rest : If grace shall growe within thy youthfull brest .

At his Friends departure . MY Muse which once with ioyfull voice , to thee should welcome tell : Alas to late , as now she comes , more fit to bid farewell . But since my dolefull farewell must , approch in welcomes stéede : And eke at parture hence from me , welcome should yll procéede . High Ioue I praye thou mayst farewell , alwayes in prosperous rase : And eke in ioyes to make returne , that welcome may haue place .

Of Knowledge . WHen death is bent , Yet stands thy praise For life once spent , Wit , fame doth raise , When Golde doth faile , Is learning tride : When riches quaile , Good letters bide . The more t is prest , The more it springs : It is the best , Of mundane things . It bydth with thee , Doe what thou wilt : Till dead thou be , And breath be spilt . No burthen t is , To charge thy back : Most wretch he is , That this doth lack . Eche thing that groes , Doth likewise die : Still learning floes , Aboue the skie . Than knowlege craue Let riches go : If this thou haue , welth néedes must gro .

Of Auarice . THe childishe yeres in youth , doth take the parents trade : And are full oft against their wils , compelde by Fathers harde . To Auarice so vilde , in Lucres gaine to game : And Father is a happie man , when sonne such lyfe doth frame . So secrete vice doth lurck , with cloke of vertues face : And gréedie gaine the shadowe shapes , of thrift in godly race . And so from Sire to sonne , from sonne to thousands mo : By fonde conceyte continually this cloked vice doth gro . Thus eche man for himselfe , And poore laments in thrall : For rauening wolfes by gréedie gaine , hath beggard deuill and all . Thus one doth care for one , and one doth learne by one : Till lust be puft and chokte with gaine and eche man turne to none . But poore and worldly wights , shall neuer fréedome finde : As long as men take goodes for Gods , by gréedie hart so blinde .

Of blinde Cupide . LYbido lewde : hath fainde a God of loue , Whose pestlent powre : to blase which can anoy A title fierce : is added through behoue , A furious God : an Archer blincking boy . Whome Venus fonde : doth make to range amisse , Hir pretie boy : hir proper sonne he is . He rashly flies : in vnaduised way , Which heauens doe pierce : by his so little hande Though least he bée : he beares the greatest sway , Of doubtie knights : he hath a witlesse bande . Alack good childe : of wanton foolish crew , Thou makst them fooles : with thy fond badge of blew . O little boy , thou shootes thy raging dartes , Full well he paints : that makes the bussard blind , For right , nor rule : nor reason hath there partes , Where fansies fond : doth fire an yéelding minde . What euer thou art : all furies fierce that bée , I rather wishe : than meddle or make with thée .

To his Friend , whose friendly loue he craueth . O Doubtfull hap , O paines and pangues that moue : Thou yet wants yeres to féele my smarts of loue Mee rue , take age alas to thinke on mée My earnest life , and death is set on thée , Hart true I giue , though most thou wouldst me hate , Untill hart breake in woes and staruing state , I erst doe craue , regarde me once or neuer , Die though I must , yet loue I thée for euer . Time trieth all , that flieth without retorne , Nought swifter is then yeres , that kils things borne . Whose stealing steps I wishe more fast to flo , To make thée apt thy timely fayth to sho . Time absent still , we wishe to come and stay , And thus vnwares we craue our dying day . None is content his present state to sée , Yet thou my friend content mayst onely mée . And eke in time I hope thou wilt regarde , For seruice true , the seruant takes rewarde . As time shall giue the tried trust of mee , Accepted so , let me thy seruant bee .

To D. M. I Craue who will not loue , Who loues I cannot craue : The thing that doth me moue I séeke and cannot haue . Amids the flouds I stande , And yet shall die for drinke : Of foode great store at hande Yet hunger makes me shrinke .

To his Friend being absent shewing his good will . THe hart that lyues in pensiue doubt , His wished ioyes shut farre him fro : He drawes his dolefull tunes full out , In griefe , in paines , in cares and wo. And eke in th ende it may befall , So my vnluckie choyse to spie , That guiltlesse hart thou make full thrall , By thy decrée to liue or die . Then flinted stones and barked trée , The sauage beasts on mountaine bred : Shall waile my wofull hap by thée , As simple lambe to slaughter led . My hart hath woonted ioyes resignde Reiecting all for cause of thée . A grounded loue in yéelding minde , Flées wit and shoonns vtilitée .

To one who after death woulde leaue his liuelie picture . TO leaue behinde a picture fine to sée , It may small time well stande in stéede for thée . But picture faire of noble actes of minde , That farre excelles to learne to leaue behinde . Which will maintaine a noble name for aye , As Tullis tongue and Caesars acts can saye . As Chauser shewes and eke our morall Gowre With thousands more , whose fame shal stil endure .

The destruction of many . NIce handes , poore stock , hart stout , for to sée , No friends , no skill , bagges pennylesse bee . And pride doth presse , to passe the degrée , These brings lewde heads , to great miserie .

Being destitute of money , the complaint to his Friend . OF all the haplesse hap , That chaunce to mortall fone : Goldes want to stop a gap , By proofe I finde is one . No paine so sore doth freat , No pinsons so can rent : No smoking smart so great , That makes the hart lament . For emptie purse no game , No foode , no friende , no cote : For monie all doth frame , Whose slaue we are by lote . Where money friend doth faile , There fawning friends be gone : Farewell poore wretch all haile , Light purse makes heauie mone . These paynes by proofe be gest , What neede examples cost : Where purse is so deprest , As clapt in Sampson post . Stormes past , yet soone retires , And drowsie dumpes decay : So God graunt iust desires , To driue these plagues away .

The Louer describeth his trustie loue . THough horse so wylde in thousand partes , Should teare my corps most dolorous : Though fryde I were with piersing smarts And boylde in lead most piteous . Though sworde should pierse my hart so colde , In bloudy woundes my death to frame , Though paine of hell to me were folde , Most retchlesse wretch and yll by name . Though thousand miles on foote I fare , With naked legge in frozen stormes : Though bloud of hart I spend in care , Through countries farre in thousand harmes . Though dread in feares doth worke dispaire , And hope alone doth cherishe mée : Yet rack that rendes eche lim so faire . Shall not by smart take heart from thee .

An admonition to his Friend . LEarne honest mirth in humble curtesie , Let person , time and place , regarded be . Serue God in hart and loue his statutes true , Then thée with goods and heauen he will indue . Flee ydlenesse alwaies , to labors frame , Of th one comes good , of thother , sinne and shame .

He craueth regarde of the cares he taketh . THe crooked clowne that drawth the plowe with all his yerely toyle : Receiues at last rewarde of worke , bestowed on fertile soyle . And shall my paines and restlesse woes , thus vnrewarded bée : Shall I be prest in simpler sort and vylder case then hée ? The fethred foule that flées aloft , obtaines the things he seekes : And sundrie where his fostring foode , with chirping bill he péekes . Estéeme me so .

Desirous to requite for manie giftes , one to his deare beloue . NO man of sturdie thornes doth séeke , the swelling grapes to haue . No man of flouds that vacant are , can waters iustly craue . No man of candle cleane put out , can liuely light obtaine : No man of Codrus simple soule , a princely gift may claime . Such let right iudgement stand for me , of thée my parent made : For I to writhing thornes am lyke , in course of present trade . Therefore receyue this simple signe , my springs yet dried are : But yet of thorns account this one , which nowe my briars are . My budding trée cannot as now , some other fruits disclose : My Garden gréene for thée alone , preparde this onely Rose . But I a Briar well doe séeme , restore which nothing can : And I a Briar now perceyue , that I a Briar am . For still the busie Briar pricks , but doth no gaines pretende : So I with charges presse thee still , but no rewarde I sende . But if in time from thornes I may , of Uine trée take the shapes , Thou shalt in stéede of Briars sharpe , receyue my springing Grapes .

Time alwayes causeth some noueltie and furthereth knowledge . NO man so old , but vse , or tyme , or place , Shal teach him newes though he passe Nestors race . And learne him skill vnknown to him before To shoon the things by which he set great store . That he shall iudge he knewe not that at all , Which as he thought he knew as principall .

Being in extremitie the Louer bewayleth his restlesse lyfe . MOst gréedy gripes with plunging paines , doe pierce my ruthfull hart : I passe the noysome night in grones , through rent with dreadfull dart . When all reioyce in wished sport , my moning minde doth crie : The harmes so huge in dolefull dumpes , compels me wretch to die . My languisht limmes in lothsome lyfe , are rent from bone to bone : The reins the vaines are clene consumde with hart so colde as stone . I cursse eche lingring howre of day , my bloudie woundes to stratch : Once comes I know the yrksome ende , that shall my cares dispatch . The furies fierce and fierie flakes , that burne in hatefull hell : Cannot surmount my passing plunge , my carelesse corps to quell . O heauie hart when wilt thou breake , when wilt thou rent in twaine : For that alone my happie helpe , is ende of all my paine . More is my griefe , for priuie paines , I onely wretch doe know : Nor durst my flashing flame , to friend , vnfaythfull men to show . I rage and rewe I frie and fréese , vp whelmde in woes full sore : My smarting eies haue spent their teares , farewell for euermore .

Of Miserie . COrps clad with carefulnesse , Hart heapt with heauinesse , Purse poore and pennilesse : Backe bare in bitternesse , Lips laide with lothsomnesse , O get my graue in readinesse , Faine would I die to ende this stresse , Remedilesse .

To his Friend H. HOpe hart well , dispaire not , The truth tell and spare not . Ere God say thou shalt not , Hart holde aye and halt not : Yet better t is thou spakst not , When wisedome prouokes not . Then wiseman thou séemste not , When silence thou kéepste not .

To be learned . OF learned oft , aske good aduise , aduised counsell kéepe : Things kept bestow on others wise , flée vice of slothfull sléepe .

Flatterers . THey fawne in words and eke with tuiring eie , They will deceyue , trust thou no flattring spie . For vnder view of Honnie lies deceyt , And eke there lurcks of tongue the poysonde beyt .

The praise of vertue . NOt worldly welth , nor rich aray , nor Pearles of costly rate : Nor goodes nor Golde that shynes so gay , can make the gentle state . But vertue linckt in learned lyfe , that springs by noble paine : In them thy famous factes so ryfe , foreuer still shall raigne . Besides the same all turnes to dust , throughout the worlde so wyde : To ashes good and Gold shalt rust , and thou to earth shalt slyde .

Of Counsaile . THou must doe well , Faith true obtaine : Wit none repell , Friend déere entraine . Séeke rage to presse , First trie hart true : Thy sinnes excesse , Lament and rue .

Of Offence . HOw much a man the greater is , By his offence that wries amisse : So much the more the common crew , That stately crime will note and vew .

To one that matcht with a frowarde woman . TO get good wife t is harde , sayth Cheremon , T is better burie two then marrie one . Who marrie will , his hart will sone be spent , And after that he will also repent . A necessarie yll the wyfe they call , But this is worst , it is perpetuall . Wherefore my Friende thou dost me warie make , Whome I to wife and daylie mate shall take .

Of Ladie Fortune . O Fortune frayle , why dost thou take , of me so mightie powre : To wicked men thou pleasant art , to good men doest thou lowre ? To those that nought by déede deserue , thou honours dost restore : And those that nought offende at all , thou plagst in rage full sore . The men that iust and godly are , thou bringst to great decay : But those that most vnworthy bée , thou richely doest aray . Thou driust to death the youthfull imps , and men of age doe bide : O fortune fonde vnequally : such times doste thou deuide . That which thou takst from worthy men thou giuste to persons yll . Thou no respect of vertue hast , but fondly workst thy wyll . Unconstant , fraile , sharp , false , vntrue , is Ladie Fortunes grace : To brickle glasse most like she is , with that hir flattring face . Nor doste thou kéepe in honours still those men of riche estate , Nor alwayes dost thou frowne on men , which first thou dame didst hate . But truth it is Iehouah hie , in throne imperiall . He Fortune guides and giues rewardes , he is the Lorde of all .

To his faythfull Friend . CLéere Phoebus runnes in circle rounde , in course both day and night : And eke a heate dame nature giues , to firie flames so bright . And fleeting fishe the surging seas , to haunt doe neuer cease : And still hir fruites the worthy soile , gyuth forth as due increase . I pray therefore as long in course , as Phoebus bright shall dure : As long as flame shall giue a heate , and fishe the seas procure . And earth doth giue increase , so long that thou thy yeres mayst tell : And leade a happie ioyfull lyfe , in blisfull state , farewell .

To a Friend requesting his opinion in mariage , he aunswereth thus . WHen ryped yeres in wisedomes schoole , in maridge faine would match , By daylie doome these precepts vewe , to scape the bayted snatch . Perpend the grace , the trust and trade , of foreobteyned wyfe : Hir manners marke , with warie minde , respect hir wanton lyfe . Hir mothers minde and nature scan , with fathers factes also : As is the Uine , such is the sappe , that on the grape doth gro . Beware the route of rowling eyes , which secretly doth prie: When shamefastnesse is put to flight , then grace beginnes to flie . The virgin chaste of stowing time , no howre will ydle spende : Lucretia applyde hir paines , hir corps from vice to fende . Penelope at distaffe spoon , hir vndefiled thred : Untill hir long desired mate , approchde to spousall bed . For ydlenesse consumes the lims , and bréedeth vices vaine : No Matrone chaste , no grace there is , where sleing sloth doth raigne . Thy soule it spoyles , thy life it spilles , it weakeneth stayed strength : The mighty holds , and trimmest townes it drawes to ground at length . Refuse therefore suche mate to matche , though faire she be of face : For inward vice , with colours spreade , doth outward vewe disgrace . No credit giue to other men , to choose a wife of fee : For oft that other men displeasth , may pleasaunt séeme to thée . If loue be linckt , and mate be curst , and bende hir frowning brow : Applie thy tongue to sugred spéeche , that she may leaue to crow . Exhort , perswade , desire , entreat , and praye hir still to be : Embrace hir corps in louing armes , and friendly amitie . And swéetely kisse , hir cherrie chéekes , with gentle giftes hir deck : And close thy handes most louingly , about hir Iuorie neck . Thus séeke all sayes hir sore to salue , by good and honest way : If this help not , but froward fem , will stiffely stande astray . Then pleasant spéech suppresse , and faine a sower vnsauerie looke : As though thou wouldst deuour the walles , and hang the house on hooke . With bitter words beswindge this dame , let no perswasion lack : Let homely stripes sometimes on fall , on yong vnrulie back . But modest be , thy strokes to strike , let reason rule thy rate : If fewe serue not , hir hart to help , thou mayest repent to late . Take faythfull spouse of humble hart , and graft , in godly grace : Graue wise , discréete , lernd , méeke , and one that beautie beares in face . Who doth forgo hir deerest friendes , and parents leauth eche one : Hir selfe , by troth shée fréely plight , to husbands powre alone . In kylling cares , both sicke and whole , shée faythfull is to thée : Shée is thy ioy , and comfort swéete , though rich or poore thou bée . Shée will obey at all commaundes , in stormes and cruell smart : In mirth , in griefe , inpouerishment , shée bydes and takes hir part . If fierce disease shall crase thy corps , hir wylling helpe she dightes : She cherisheth thée , she sweetely speakes , shée watchth both dayes and nightes . When crooked age shall créepe on thée , with stealing steps so blife : Shée still prouides , shée runnes and goes , to heale thy sicklye life : Of bodies two , one corps is made , so linckt in lotted loue : Which streming stormes and bitter blast , can not by paines remoue . Yea after death shee life doth lende , when pale thou rotst in grounde : In sonnes by hir thy formed face , may alwayes plaine be founde . So that thy corps and shape be forme , with long retayned name : Doe florish fresh as springs the flowre , to thy long byding fame . But who so lapt in lyuing lewde , with harlots vile remaine : These fruits doth lose , with name and fame , and spends his goodes in vaine . Defame shall eke abridge his dayes , corruption corps shall slay : And lyuers lewde , sure God will iudge no doubt another day . When as the vyle and stinking Goates , shall passe to endlesse woe : To fierie forkes and flames of hell , in Limbo lake byloe . By proofe these rules of mariage , I doe not surely know : But men of more experience , the same to me did sho . Which I for thée my tried friend , by paine of simple quill : Haue rudely set in this poore verse , for want of cunning skill .

Fewe care for the soule : all for the body . WHen as the crased corps , in groning bed doth lie ; The skilfull art of phisicks cure , is sought for by and bie . Which right prescribeth rules , that thou must needes obserue : By passing paines which thou doest kéepe , though thou therefore shouldst sterue . Such bitter brunts thou bearst , thy bodies health to haue : But who will take a little toyle , his sicklie soule to saue ? No , carnall men in cares , are carnally ybent , All gape for gaine , there is no God , but God make vs repent .

To his Friend Tho. Howell . WHere oft the flouds doe floe , vpon the beaten banck : Their sandes debarre the grasse to groe , to spread his Aprill spranck : And where the sonne doth march , vpon the greened grasse : In time it will the pasture parch , as though it neuer was . So where the sonne bright friends , my Howell hauntes to hit , There vsed lyfe in present winds , will kéeper cleane forget . Their daylie flouds of talke , shall ouerflow thy grasse : That kéeper hath obliuious walkt , as though he neuer was . And reason t is I meane , why shouldst thou kéeper kéepe : Since thou mayest lose in keeping him , that nothing can but sléepe . For sléepish dumps me shut , from taste of cunning stile . Nor can I boult my rudenesse out , which lies on rustie file . Yet holde in mindefull moode , our auncient amitie : For faithfull friends giue present salue , for all the cares that be .

An aunswere . NOt floing floudes , the féeble banck that frets , Nor swelting heat , whose flames the pastures fry Nor slipprie sande which faint foundation lets , Thy Howell once maye cause from thée to wry . Ne shall the show of shining sunne bright friend , By vsed lyfe or phrase of filed talke , Haue powre to put my kéeper out of minde , Whose tryed truth may not obliuious walke . And where thou seemst to say that sluggish sléepe , Hath shut thée forth from tast of learned lore , From out they muse as from a Fountaine déepe , Doth flowe the fruites of Ladie learnings store . Thy wyt , thy workes , thy verse and stately stile , Thy wayes , thy déedes , who well doth scan & vew : Shall finde therein : nought forste with rustie file . Though I want skil to giue thée praise that s dew . Our lincke of loue : and friendship fixt so fast , Thy Howell howldes whylst lim & life shall last .

The vanitie of riches . THe stately Pallace princely pight , the hoord of glistering Golde : The patrimonie largde of landes , cannot from sicknesse holde . Nor can they cure the crased corps , or glad the minde at all : For who hath most of such a store , the more he feares as thrall . Gold is the father to the flock , of flatterers by lot : It is the summe of griefe or woe , who bath , or hath it not . For who it hath , he quakth in feare , lest fortune rob his thrift : Who hath it not , laments bicause he knowes not how to shift . Wherefore of riche or poore I iudge , as wisedome small I hent : In best estate is he , with his , that liues alwayes content .

An Epitaph made vppon the death of the right Honorable , the Lady Gartrid late Countesse of Shrewisburie . THe steling sting of gasping death that byth by fatall force : To bring vnto the wailed graue , this Countesse courteous corse , Had thought to thrust his spitefull speare , to wounde this Fem to die : And quite to dim this glorious Gem , the flower of courtesie . And cloth hir corps in shrowding shéete , to woorke hir endlesse wo : But O thou death , thou art deceaude , for that is nothing so . Nor canst thou mar , or stop the trumpe , that soundes hir during fame : More health then harme , more blisse then bale , to hir , by thée there came . For she hath light in lasting life , of endlesse ioyes ywis : So where thou thoughst to spoute thy spite , thou hast hir brought to blisse . So enuie gaue thée not the power . thy malice madde to fill : But thou hast done this Countesse good , vnwares against thy will : For nowe hir noble name shall byde , in sounder soueraigntie : And after death doth vertue liue , O death in spight of thée . For she of grace the garlande gay , in goodly giftes did weare : Whose flowres do now in children wise , of Talbots line appéere . Of Rutlandes race she noblie sprang , and linkt with péerlesse pearle : Of Shrewisburie , who bare the name , a noble worthy Earle . Whome she hath left behinde among , the blessed branches fine : The worthy imps that sprang of them , as of a vertuous Uine . To poore , she was a pleasant port , to all a helpe she came , By teares that haue beene spent for hir , the poore haue shewde the same . O noble hart whose Well of grace , shall spring and neuer drie : Who being hie , didst bend thy brest , vnto the poorst degrée . Unto the weake shée was a strength , vnto the hungrie foode : Unto the rude , a lamp of light , vnto the wisemen , good . Unto the youth , she was a guide , vnto the aged ioy : Unto the noble , ornament , vnto the blinde , a way : In towne she was a shyning starre , for hir all better were : In Countrie ioy , at home a glasse , to vewe in gladding chere . Hir beautie great , hir vertues greatst , that sprang as flagrant flowres : Alas what treasure haue we lost , for all the losse is oures . For she hath gainde O Death by thée , but we haue shipwrack made : And nowe in earth our helpe is lapt , our light is turnde to shade . O what a losse : so many giftes , of grace so lost in one : For which eche wight that knew hir well cannot but greatly mone . But drie ye vp your dréerie teares , she liues without anoy : O comely courteous Countesse now , farewell O Iem of ioy . Farewell O spring of vertues swéete , farewell of help the store . Both high and low , bewaile thy want , farwell for euermore :

Of ingratitude . WHo rightly scans what thing is greatest gréefe And seekes by proofe the truth therof to trie , Shall surely finde ingratitude the chéefe , Surmounting farre eche other wo on hie . Whose freting force when friendlie wight shal féele All mirth and ioy to care doth straight conuart . Yea weare the hart of craggie flinte or stéele , It scarse coulde shoonne to waile such bitter smart . Who therfore séekes by paines to please the prowd , Unthankefull wight compared well may bée , To hym that kepes a Cur which barkes as lowde , At Feaders face as when he foe doth sée . Or Viper eke , who long with carefull thought , In wofull wombe , hir tender younglings feedes , By whome at last hir balefull bale is wrought , Through their ingrate and most vnfriendly déedes . Whose nature is to worke the place most griefe , Where they in time haue had full great reliefe : Of all ingrate loe héere the gotten gaine , And onely hyre for well deserued paine .

Of Death . SInce death doth leade to lyfe , And lyfe is lasting ioy ▪ To stay why make men strife , Where nought is but anoy .

Answere . WHy men such strife doe sowe , To staye in place of paine , Where you the cause would knowe , I gesse its worldly gaine . And since the fleshe is fraile , Eche weake and féeble wight : When death doth once assaile , Resistes with all their might . Then blame not wealthie wights , Which knowes of néede no lack : But lyue in déepe delights , To die though they drawe back . When néedie soule in déede , Of death doth stande in dréede .

To one that faine would speede , yet doubtfull to proceede . AS Cat would faine eate fishe , Yet loth hir foote to wet : So lyest thou still and wishe , Where trauaile gaine should get , That labor first brings gaine , Thou seest by little Ante: Who through whot Sommers paine , Doth shoon colde winters wante . The swéete that Bee doth suck , Comes not by lying still . The grapes for wine men pluck , Are gote by trauailes skill . The Marchant eke men know , Great goods by trauaile gaines : The Plowman séede doth sow , To reape rewarde for paines . Not wishe I say therefore , But trauaile wealth doth winne : Who so then will haue store , By trauaile must beginne . Strong monstrous mounts to réele , Rough craggie rocks to rent : And eke the sturdie stéele , Oft trauaile makes relent . For trauaile is the way , Eche noble gift to gaine : Use therein no delay , And spare thou not for paine . For who so paine doth spare , To speake where he would spéede : And makes eche doubt his care , A dastarde is in deede .

The Louer being in the Countrie , showeth his good will to his Ladie in the Court. THough corps in Countrie bée , in Court my countnance is : My ioy , my care , my lyfe , my death , mine endlesse bale or blis , My pleasure , pine , and paine , my helpe my harme also : My griping griefe , my greatest gaine , my friend and eke my fo . And doubtfull though to some , to scan this case may séeme , Yet you I know no wisedome want , much déeper doubts to déeme . Wherefore I will omit , my minde at large to tell : Lest by the way some watchman lay , to ring the larome bell . Such spightfull spiders snares , I aye doe seeke to shonne : As not the foolishe flie betraies , but greater harmes haue done . Who pufte with poyson strong , like Momus mates doe still Some discorde cause and bate in place , where else might grow good will . But let them worke their worste , looke what I haue profeste : If you commaunde I will performe , I spare to speake the rest . And so I doe conclude , and cease my ragged rime : As he that skill of schoole doth want , Pernasus mount to clime .

To his Friend . R. H. WIth hatefull hawtie haunt not , For dainefull dizards daunt not : For witlesse vaunters faint not , For truthlesse taunters taint not . For spitefull spiders spare not , For curious carpers care not : But Hussie as thou hast begunne , Holde on thy race in vertue runne .

The Louer to his L. THe fierie flames , that fast on me doe flowe , The secret sighes that wast my wofull brest : The ysie colde I féele like flakes of snowe , The hidden harmes that breede my great vnrest , By fancies force doe cause such troublous tyde , That ship now shakes which late in roade did ride .

Answere . WHere reason rules , affection fonde doth flie , And bewties beames no bitter bale may breed Where wisedome will , by vertues skill doth tie , Cupidoes flames are quenched forth with spéed . Let reason then thy will by wisedome guide , So shalt thou safely shonne this trembling tide .

Golde corrupteth . THough most where welth doth flowe , Men fayning friendship showe : Yet faythfull friend in déede , Is knowne in time of neede .

Aunswere . BUt nowe we féele and finde , A thing to true in déede : Where man be foe or friende , The Golde and goods shall speede . For vertues all are shut , Unto the lower place : And money loft is put , Eche learned head to face . If money none thou hast , Thou art not worth a flie : Thy credit cleane is past , All vertues husht doe lie . A learned man , but poore , Is counted doting foole : Wise Virgill stands at dore , To goe againe to schoole . Yet once I hope to sée , All money go for drosse : And vertue high to bée , To winne hir wrongfull losse .

A Poesie . EStéeme a friend , Let vertue crease : In friendly minde , Sometime is peace . As flowers spring , But sone doe fall : Euen so eche thing Terrestriall . Hope feedeth hart , Ere loue take place : Bréede not a smart , Right to disgrace . As ioyfull lot , Doth me assigne , By goodnesse got , O ioy is mine . Uaine nay , if mée , Refuse me héere : Nay sone shall see , Eche wounde me téere .

The vncertaintie of this worlde . AS Player playes on stage till parte be done , So man alike his race one earth doth runne . To day alyue in silkes and fine aray , To morrow dead and cladde with clot of clay , Of earthly things , loe here the slipper stay .

A diet prescribed to his Friend G. MY friend to holde thy harmlesse helth , a diet must thou keepe : As phisicks Art shall thée instruct , men first did learne to créepe . Abstaine thou still to féede thy fleshe , which swelles in pampred pride : Tabstaine from sinne a meane there is , as fathers olde haue saide . And first all noysome lothed meate , that white is doe eschewe : As lime and paper , tallow , chalke , and from all partchment newe . From all meat sharp , as dagger swords , with kniues and sharped speares . From black , as tarre , and tarre box , pitch , and sut that chimney smeares . From hard , that cannot well disgest , as milstone timber flint : But chiefly flie a female foole , O woes that doe not stint . From all meate light as fethers , flocks , fine downe and sifted haye : From heauie things , as lead and tinne , with brasse and yron aye . From all meate soft , as wooll and flaxe , bombaste and winds that bloe : From things but grosse as stéeples , towres , trées walles and manye moe . From things but leane as rakes and forkes , with wodcocks billes and braine : With pothookes potled , whetstone smoth , all these are vices vaine .

Alution . O be not white through enuious wrath , against the captiues wise : Nor be thou sharpe to sorrow them , least black as pitch thou rise . Nor be thou hard vnto the poore . nor light to credit lies : Nor heauie be to presse downe wyt , till truth the matter tries . Go not to soft in slothfull sort , to men of antique store : And leaue the wyttes that grosser be , which are but leane in lore . Pluck downe no house , nor pen things false , nor grease thy booke with glose : Seeke no mans death by enuious sting , for witlesse men be those . Flée doctrine false which makes thée black , to lurck in lothsome hell : Séeke not to farre that God hath hid , fooles braines be neuer well . Let chastitie , prayer , abstinence , direct a christian shéepe , No Pastor light Christs flock must haue , but men most graue them keepe : Depaire no Church , nor auncient acte , in building be not sloe . Conuey you not to other realmes , the fruites that héere doe groe . Flée foolishe guides that roue at large , which truthlesse tongue doe straine : As potled tales they prate aloft , so th ende will proue but vaine . To fast and pray , to help the poore , to profite all with good : This is a healthfull phisick note , to stop the lustie blood .

The Rose . WHen as the myldest Month , of ioly Iune doth spring : And Gardens gréene with happy hue , their famous fruites doe bring . When eke the lustiest time , reuiueth youthly blood : Then springs the finest featurde flowre , in border fayre that stood . Which moueth me to say , in time of pleasant yéere . Of all the pleasant flowres in Iune , the red Rosse hath no péere .

Of Golde . O Gracious Golde , Whose glittring hie : Doth chéere and holde , Eche gazing eie . The sweete delight , That dwelles in thée : Doth spoyle eche spight , And pouertie . It liftes aloft : Who late was loe : And foole makes oft , For wiseman goe . What ioy , what gaine , What worldly thing , Doth want to them , That Golde doe bring ? Gold buildeth townes , Golde maketh ioy : Gold cheereth clownes , Golde quelth anoy . Golde all can doe , Golde raignes alone : Alas what woe , Where Golde is none . Which I poore wyght , By proofe doe sée Which gladly séeke , That will not bee . But well I weare , If I might catch , White siluer cléere : Which all men snatch .

The louer forsaken , bewayleth his estate . O Drooping hart deprest with deadly care , whose stretched strings be crackt in péeces smal ▪ Thy secret sighes thy panting oft declare , What heauie hap in wo to thée did fall : Now crie thou clapt in chaines as captiue thrall , What hart can ioy alas in miserie , To beare the blasts , that well he would not sée ? The burdened Asse doth know his crib by course , The yoked Oxe doth smell his strawie stall : The ridden horse the maunger giues remorse , But my poore hart no salue may heale at all . Whome furious force aye threatneth fearce to fall . What shall I say , the time eche truth shall trie : Till then I waile my woe with wéeping eie . Down déepe doth droope my dread most dolorous . O hart dispatch to ende my hidden paine : Shall good for harme be had in credite thus , Eche honest minde with ratling rage to straine ? Then farewell ioy , welcome my woes againe , O what a woe is this in griefe to grone , And waile the want , where helpe I sée is none .

Being betweene two doubtes , he taketh aduisement . MY pen now plie thy pase , thy maisters paines to paint : For hart now set in doubtfull case , begins to fall and faint . Now wyt declare thy might , now hands and learning shoe : What best for me a wofull wight , that wéepes and wayles in woe . Much better t is to stay , than clime and take no holde : And rashly graunt by deadly lure , vnto hir loue so colde . For where two mindes are matchte , and th one no loue will beare : There is nought else but sorrowes hatcht , Thy restlesse life to weare . What vailes the glittring Golde , when loue is forcde to flee : And match with hir that others holde , and nought regardeth thée . And she thy eyes so blacks , by wile of subtile kinde : That though thou see hir craftie knacks , yet will she make thée blinde . Though thousands thou possest , and harte doth holde in hate : All shall decay by wretchednesse , for yll will bréedeth bate . But where as loue remaines , and discord put to flight : There springs the fount of ioyes and gaines , and concord stands in might . There is the Paradise , and Pallace eke of peace : Where things but small of simple prise , to valoures great encrease . But out alas I die , a wretch in daungerous doubt : I sée that death before mine eie , hath siedgde me round about . For hart that loues me best , I cannot loue againe : And she who causeth mine vnrest , considereth not my paine . Loe howe can I escape ? Alas what remedie : The Gods haue sure , sworne my mishap , betwéene these golfes to die . To bruse my baned bones , betwixt these raging rocks : In doubt of life I make my mones , and beare the cruell strokes . But hart thy selfe content , to frie and fréese a while : Though fickle fate be froward bent , yet fortune once maye smile .

He sheweth his restlesse minde tormented for want of reliefe . ALone who sailes the foming floodes , in ship that wants a guide : In stormie streames & thundring showres , in darke and trembling tide : Doth feare the harmes of gaping golfes , and renting rocks doth mone . And wayles his most vnhappie state , in teares and hartie grone . So I vphoyst by wyffling windes , in worser state then hee , Doe bide the brunt of bitter blastes , and all alone for thée . Alone for thée this seruile yoke , on labring neck I beare : For whome I oft doe wishe to die , me wretched wight to weare . I waile in teares the whole day long , as my poore hart doth know : At night againe my bed I washe , with sobs of dolefull show . Ierie and mone , I rage and runne , no foode delite my part : No Musick note or harmonie , can help , my helplesse hart . O spill me not , that yéelde to thée , if ought misdone I haue . By great entreate and humble sule , my pardon here I craue : If mercie none thou hast , then giue , thy dreadfull dome forth on . And sone thou shalt of man condemnde , sée execution .

Libertie corrupteth youth . BY licence lewde , we still are worse , When youthfull harts do raunge their corse . Whose life to launche at libertie , Brings riche estate , to poore degrée .

The languishing Louer to his Ladie . HEalth I thée sende , if he may giue , that which himselfe doth misse : For thy swéete brest doth harbour whole , my bloudy bale or blisse . I néede no scribe to scrie my care , in restlesse rigour spread : They that beholde my chaunged chéere , alreadie iudge me dead . My baned limmes haue yeelded vp , their wonted ioy , to die : My helthlesse hande doth nought but wring , and drie my dropping eie . The deathly day in dole I passe , a thousand times I craue : The noysome night , againe I wishe , the dolefull day to haue . Eche howre to me most hatefull is , eche place doth vrge my woe . No foode me féedes : close vp mine eie , to gastly graue I goe . No phisicks arte can giue the salue , to heale my painefull parte : Saue onely thou , the salue and sore , of this my captiue harte . Thou hast the forme that cut the wound , of my vnholpen paine : Thou canst and art the onely helpe , to heale the same againe . In thée my wealth , in thée my woe , in thee to saue or spill . In thée my lyfe , in thée my death , doth rest to worke thy will : O salue thou then my secret sore , sith helth in thée doth stay : And graunt with speede my iust request , whose want workes my decay .

Bicause no aunswere was returned in long time . WHen shall this néedlesse silence ende , thy péeuishe pen to trie : Why , shall the wounde vnstopped bléede , in woe continuallie ? Correct this fault , this onely one , then all thy bodie blest : Shall haue no spot or fault at all , for noble is the rest .

H. to K. his Friend . O Friend in truth to trie , thy cunning skill I craue : To helpe and cure my carefull case , that brings my corps to graue . To thée I doe confesse , the griefe that gripes my hart : For lacke of that which some possesse , my countnance may me smart . Though nought I feare dispaire , yet giue me salue for sore : My handes , my hart , my might my minde , are fixt for euermore .

I. K. to his Friend H. WHat néedst thou thus to crie and care , before the stroke doth fall : And eke to séeke a sauing salue , where is no wounde at all . To for sée lurcking euilles in time , yet counte I wit discreete : To bende thy bowe ere broyle be made , also I déeme it méete . But passe thou not for moltring muck , the pestlent poole of woe : No griefe , no grudge , no broyle or bate , but doth from pennie groe . The graue and wise Philosophers , as Serpents fled the same : And wilt thou then a christen man , therewith go spot thy name ? Euen now me thinks I heare thy sounde , soft bussing at mine eare : Which sayes necessitie compelles , to get thys worldly geare . For when we want who well may liue ? But if we bound in store : Commodities then offreth made , a salue for euery sore . Our credite eke the same doth crease , our friends the better are : Who méetes riche man but him salutes , cap of and head full bare : If thou haue goods thou mayst obtaine , thy worthie countnance bent : Alas my friend ist lack of drosse , that bréedes thée wrong contempt ? No no not so I answere thée , necessitie is small : With little store is nature fed , it craues no hoord at all . Nor shalt thou want but mayst liue well , though not aboundance floe : He s●ekes no meane that still is bent , on hilke heapes to groe . If great be welth , yet none be thine , a stewarde God thée made : If none thou hast , lament thou not , but rather be thou glade . Bicause thou cleane deliuered art , of great and heauie pack : And eke thou hast another day , a lesse account to make . But hope thou well : the sparrowes small , our God hath care to sée : And thinkst thou then O faythlesse man , that God forgetteth thée ? Can riches make thée wiser man ? or good or learned more : Or vertuous or yonger man ? alas these helps be poore . But men will kneele and crouch to thée , loe yet howe fonde we play : They honor not thy person man , but goodes and clothes so gay . But goods get friends , but none of thine , they faune and flatter frée : If fortune frowne , these trustie gestes , will scantly stande to thee . The truth it selfe hath verified , a richmans case to trie . What Camell can créepe out wyth ease , euen at a needles eie ? What store of welth enriched thée , when from the earth thou came ? What riches eke shall follow thée , returning to the same ? Therefore my friend content with skill , to cheere thy grieued minde : For want of vile and clammy clay , will countnance be vnkinde ? No , vertues shall maintaine thy store , that neuer shalt thou lack : Shall pelting trashe a worthie hart , from earnest loue driue back ? Then let not want of welth that rottes , so pinch in pyning plight : No glittring Golde no heaped horde , can vertue put to flight . Thy wit , thy works , thy hart and grace , thy skilfull head so wise : Thy iust reporte by vertue gote , thy hidden qualities Which lurcking lie in brest of thine , but once I hope the same Shall take the roote to spring abroade , to crease thy gentle name . What shall I say ? I will omit with pen thy praise to paint : Thou hast the goodes that euer dure , my friend then doe not faint . Dispaire thou not , for thou hast more , then well thy selfe doste know . No welth thou wantst that true welth is , receyue this salue I shoe . If I could get to thy content , though Venus face she had , Though Pallas powre , though Iunos wit , in péerelesse iewels clad , Though all the goodes of Arabie , with thousand thousands frée : She did possesse , oh trust me well , yet would I giue hir thée . For would she haue a prudent spouse , in safetie sounde to bée : If I should choose , by practise proude , beléeue me thou art hée .

A Poesie . SMall tyme hath man on earth to stay , In time therefore take heede I say .

Another . AS Flowres freshe to day , To morrow in decay : Such is th uncertaine stay That man hath here alway .

The Louer whose loue begonne in time of spring , declares howe natures force then workes in euery thing . ALl things on earth doe much reioyce , In swéete returne of pleasant spring , The birds declare by their shrill voice , When ioyfully they sit and sing . What pleasures great they take and finde , without anoy of storme or winde . The nightingale then steps in place , Whose cunning tunes excéede the rest : The slaundrous birde eke showes hir face , In euery nooke as bolde as best . The creking Crow and carrion Kight , Not passe the spring without delight . The Dooues which Venus birds men call , And other fowle of lande and lake , Full well doe knowe the time is fall , Wherein eche thing , doth wishe a make , Wherefore as nature them doth binde , Eche one a Feere fayles not to finde . The Robine small , and péeping Wren , The Tidie trim , and Titmus éeke , Full fast themselues , doe couple then , And spares no sporte that doth them leeke . The Sparrow hops from spray to spray , Where he with Hen hath pleasant play . Eche beast also : away doth shake , His weather worne , and winter hue : And chéerefully their chosen make , With happie hope doe past persue . The wretched wormes to ioyne in ioy , In pleasant spring are nothing coy . Sith natures force doth this appéere , In birdes and beastes which be but brute , To graunt him grace , why should you feare , Whome liking leads to tempt his sute . Who séekes but that among the rest , Which natures lawe doth him behest .

A Poesie . WHere vice abounds and vertue doth abate , No one thing stayes in good or happie state . Flie vice therefore and vertue doe imbrace : Which will thée heaue vnto the highest place .

Being vexed with the care of the worlde , be comforteth himselfe . MY phantasie , tormenteth mée , for worldly thing to care : How to prouide , mine age to guide , some stedfast land to beare . Eche time of day , these cares me stay , but all I sée is vaine : My braines to beat , these goodes to get , not one will ease my paine . For euerie man , doth what he can , to ridde himselfe from iagges : And some by hooke , and some by crooke , doe fill their gréedie bagges . All honestie is forst to flie , and lawes doe holde their peace : They care not how , so goods doe grow , their worldly carks to presse . A thousand slights eche daies and nights , in head I doe conceaue : Yet none I finde , can serue my minde , my worldly woes to leaue . For if I lack , and bare be back , though wyt and grace be great : Yet credit dies , and worship flies , no friends then shalt thou get . For nowe they doe estéeme men so , as riches mounts on hie : The godly minde , they set behinde , and vertues all doe lie . These things doe warne , to voyde the harme , some welth in youth to peeke : But yet alas , I Midas Asse , this geere in vaine doe séeke . But why should I , thus wofullie , in cares my yeres dispende : The thing to sée , that will not bée , vntill that God it sende . Marke well in plight , the birds so light , that finely fed , doe sing : They reape , nor sow , nor plow , nor moe , they want no earthly thing . And vewe eche howre , the little flowre , and Roses freshe that groe : They carde nor spin , on spindle thin , their common déeds to shoe . Yet Salomon , that Prince alone , in all his royaltie , Was not so gay , as one of they , of péerlesse soueraigntie . Short time God lend , our lyfe to spende , in this most wretched vale : For space of howre , scant stande we sure , from dart of death so pale . The yong truelie , as sone may die , as men of elder age : All things are fraile , and all shall quaile , as fire shall them discharge . All dignitie , is daunger hie , and pouertie is harde : All welth is doong , no ioyes be long , why shoulde I then regarde ? The man is blest , that lyues at rest , in his estate content : Who lacks no things , what more haue kings , of all his landes and rent ? I sée full plaine , that some whose paine , haue hoorded riches great : By sodaine glay , are whipt away , for paines no fruite they get . Then phantasie torment not mée , for humaine things so scant : God will foresée , for his that bée , they othing shall not want .

Of Degrees , THe higher estate , the greater feare , The greater welth , the lesser cheare . The poore degrée , that liues content , He sings although his goods be spent . And who can sing so merrie a note , As he that cannot change a grote .

That men ought to be promoted to dignitie , onely by worthie deedes . NOt long discent and name , doth make a noble king : But noble hart and factes of fame , his royall state shall bring . Nobilitie deflowres , when déedes can get no grace : To hoast and bragge of auncestors , it is a witlesse case . For noble déedes of them , account not for thy factes : For thy owne deeds shall thée commend , and not an others actes . Nor men deserue the crowne , and doubtie diademe . By birth or welth , lesse skill redowne , by vertues great in them . For Fortune may as then , make kings as pleaseth her : Since she the riche and noble men , to scarlets can prefer . But greatest golde giue place , to vertue left so frashe : For golde wise men that knowe the case , doe count but trifling trashe . In hartes be princes bolde , and not in golden chestes : For that man rules , and is not rulde , when this man ruled is . Nor bewtie faire can blase , a kingly honour hie : For that doth vade as flowres doe fall , and sone that grace will die . Let courage stoute replie , and valiant hartes inflame : By puissance aduentures trie , thy famous factes to frame . Now sacked Troy is brent , by proofe of pollicies : He is not méete of kings discent , that like a cowarde flies . Therefore he is a king , that like a king doth guide : And though no kingdome be for him , yet he is king in déede .

A Poesie . Straunge sight to sée , what toyle some worldings take For slipper slime that sone wil them forsake : Whose gréedie guttes , no reason may suffice . The muck on mowlde so blinded hath their eies ,

Another . SMall thing that righteous doth possesse , More worth than wickeds great excesse .

The Louer to his L. WHen that he sawe of worthie fame , chaste spouse by tried trade : Who can depaint the passing game , that then Vlisses made ? When Paris got the Iem of Greece , his sportes surpassed then : Who brought hir home a flowre of price , vnto his Countrie men . With ioyes the Nightingale gan rayse , hir right recorded song : Wherein she gettes the péerlesse prayse , The bushie birdes among . The Marchant made , with windy sailes , that richely turnes againe : Doth ioy for gaine of his auailes , escaping déeper paine . The warde and heire of noble landes , when as his yeres are gone : Is glad he scapes his tutors handes , for which he gaped long . Yet I in ioyes surmount them all , and more it pleaseth mee : That to my hap thy lotte did fall , as best it pleased thee . For thée then is my ioyfull parte , and eke to doe thée good : Here thée inclosde I hide my harte , and brewe my hartie blood . Wherein such liuely loue beholde , that pen cannot expresse : Nor can my tongue the same vnfolde , my wyts descrie much lesse . No truthlesse tales in thy dispraise , that blockish braines can frame : Shall turne my truth from thée awaies , or spot thy giltlesse name . Thou art my deare with vertues spred , God thée in pleasures keepe : On thée I thinke on wakefull bed , when others swéetely sléepe . I dreame of thee in slumbring rest , and thinke thou present art : I thinke my selfe then surely blest , from thée loth to depart . But when deluding dreame doth vade , I sigh with groning cheere : Me séemth I doe perceyue thy shade , alas thou art not héere . I grope about the wales for thée , as to possesse thée faine : But at the last full wofully , I sée my fanside braine . Farewell I say my onely care , God send it true to bée : That which my phansie did declare , that lately dreampt of thée .

I. K. to his Friend H. THe ship I saw but late beare loftie saile , And martch amid the waues of waters wilde : Whose courage stoute I déemde no storme myght quaile , When I hir vewde so fast & firmely field . With tempest tost his forste now saile to stréeke , And in hir prime doth houering harbor séeke .

H. to his Friend K. THough blustring blasts cause ship , to harber hast To whome the Seas with rigrus rage threates wrack , Whose cables cut & ankers worne & wast , Is forste stréeke sayle in this so great a lack . When Neptune yet with mightie Mase in hande , Shall stay the surge of furious foming flood : This ship repairde may safely saile to land , Nought dreding Eolus breth that was so wood . So Howell hopes his howlk such port shall finde , When stormes be past as wil content his minde .

That learning and knowledge is surest riches . WHome welth doth highst aduaunce , Oft falles by some mischaunce : But once winne cunning skill , With thée it standeth still .

The Louer receyuing no recompence for entire loue compareth himselfe to the vnluckie souldiour . THe Souldiour still that warres , in manie a stormie showre : Perchaunce returnes without rewarde , in most vnluckie howre : So I in souldiours trade , to fight , to watch and warde , And eche way sought hir once to please , which giues me small regarde : For though I present were , to doe what she would craue , Yet nowe an other shall possesse , the thing I thought to haue . Though I the toyle did take , this pleasant plot to plowe : Yet others reape the finest fruites , of my true tilladge nowe . What , serued not my loue , that brest so swéetely bare , And shall I thus an wofull wretch , be snapt in sugred snare ? Then may I grone in griefe , and eke abhorre the place Where first I learnde with earnest hart , to loue that gracelesse grace . Is this your tried troth , that sprang from rooted hart ? How frayle is then the female flock , that counterfeits their smart ? When all men doe reioyce , yea rude and brutishe beast : Then I in cursed cares doe dwell , my carkes are more encreast . The blessed birdes doe sing , and Ladie Ver retornes , And pleasant sightes begin to growe , among the thriftles thornes . But yet doe I lament , with teares where I remaine : For that for troth and loyall loue , thou louste me not againe . Adue thou frosen hart , and voice of hardned yre : Yet tract of time shall trie me true , as iustice doth desyre . And since thou false hast bene , that séest and wilt not sée , Perhaps thou mayst as yet repent , that thou forsookest mée . But linck where loue doth light , thy course runne out in this : Take héede , sone whot , sone cold they say , his loue you yet may misse . Not all that glistereth bright , may beare the name of golde : Nor he that saies he loues thée well , the truth perhaps hath tolde . Some loue for riches store , as commonly we sée : But neuer one I euer loude , more then I loued thee : But out alas farewell , I did it to my coste : I liude in hope but all in vaine , my labours all are loste . Thou art my wofull wounde , and cause of all my smart : Which doste me hate and cleane refuse , the loue of faithfull hart . Nowe doe I well perceyue , and proue it to my paine : How great a griefe it is to loue , and not be loude againe .

E. P. BY fancies force loe here my gaine , Untimely death prouokt my paine :

Aunswere . H. SUch fonde affects declares thée plaine , Of féeble force or foolish braine .

To T. A. LIke as the mased Malarde lyes , And fayne would flie if not for feare , Least Fawcon fierce when he doth rise , Should yéelde alas hir threatned cheare : Right so with me it nowe doth rest , That gladly would obey your hest .

Aunswere . THough doubtfull dread cause Malard wise , Oft stay the flight , where he would light : Yet time he spies , wherein to rise , And flie to feare in pleasant plight . When Fawcon fierce shall nought anoy , Like time I trust will worke our ioy .

Iacke showes his qualities and great good will to Ione . MIne owne zwéet Ione , let me not mone , no more I thée require : But as I craue , so let me haue , the thing I doe desire . And ich shall still , euen at thy will , be readie at thy hande : To fling to spring and runne at ring , whilst ich am able stande . With cap and knee , ich will serue thée , what should ich more declare : Thy minde to please , and bodie ease , is onely all my care . Though icham not , zo zéemlie chwot , as bene the Courtnoles gay : Yet ch aue a flaile , that will not faile , to thrashe both night and day . And vor manhood , cham zure cham good , vor all our Towne can zay : How stout ich stood , with Robart Whood , when Baldoone Uoke vetcht may . And eke ich pas , both more and las , in dauncing Dountoones rounde : To trip to skip and handle a whip , cham zure my péers not vound . To cloute a shooe , ich ma tell you , veowe cunnigare there bée : And eke to theatch , whare can ye veatch , another like to mée . In husbandry , icham truely , ycounted to excell : Yée and ich can , if néede be than , waight at the table well . For once ich went , vp into Kent , with the headman of our Towne : Where ich did waite , at euerye baite , chee vore tha cham no clowne . Why for my manner , ich beare the banner , before my Lorde of May : No Countrie man , there is that can , teach me tho I doe zay . And further more , thou knowest gay store of good will fall to mée : Uor vather zed , when he is dead , that all mine owne shall bée . Both Calfe and Cowe , and our great Zowe , that viftene Pigges did varro : Euen at one tyme shall then be mine , and eke our newe whéelbarro . Beside all this , ich shall not mis of red ones to haue store : That zawe no zunne , nor yet the moone , of yeres cham zewer a score . And all my Ione , shalt thou alone , at thy commaundment haue : If thou wilt let , me friscoles vet , in place where ich doe craue .

The Louer almost in dispaire , showeth his great greefe and craues redresse . THou art the braunch that swéetely springs , whose hart so sounde and true Can onely chéere me wofull wight , or force by want to rue . Then giue to me the sap I thirst , which gift may giue me ioy : I meane thy firme and faithfull loue , whose want breedes mine anoy . Remember yet the friendly wordes , ypast betwéene vs twaine : Forget him not , for loue of thée , that sighes in secret paine . I oft doe séeme in companie , a gladsome face to beare : But God thou knowst my inward woes , and cares that rent me there . And that I may gush out my griefe , in secret place alone : I bid my friends farewell in hast , I say I must be gone . Then hast I fast with heauie hart , in this my dolefull case : Where walkes no wight but I alone , in drowsie desart place . And there I empt my laden hart , that swelde in fretting mone : My sighes and plaint and panges I tell , vnto my selfe alone . What shall I say , doe aske me once , why all these sorrowes bée : I aunswere true , O foe or friend . they all are made for thée . Once knit the linck that loue may last , then shall my dolors cease : It lies in thée and wilt thou not , the yeelding wight release ? O would to God it lay in me , to cure such griefe of thine : Thou shouldst not long be voide of helpe , if t were in powre of mine . But I would run and raunge in stormes , a thousand miles in paine : Not fearing foyle of friends to haue , my Countnance whole againe . And wilt thou then all mercilesse , more longer torment mée In drawing back , sith my good helpe , is onely whole in thée ? Then sende me close the hewing knife , my wyder wounde to stratch : And thou shalt sée by wofull griefe , of life a cleane dispatch . When thou shalt saye and prone it true , my hart entirely loude : Which lost the lyfe for Countnance sweete from whome he neuer moude . Write then vpon my mournefull toombe , these verses grauen aboue : Here lies the hart , his truth to trie , that lost his life in loue . Loe , saue or spill thou mayst me nowe , thou sitst in iudgement hie : Where I poore man at barre doe stande , and lowde for life doe crie . Thou will not be so mercilesse , to slea a louing hart : Small praise , it is , to conquer him , that durst no where to start . Then heale the hart that loues thée well , vntill the day he die : And firmely fast thy fayth on him , that s true continually . Then shall I blesse the pleasant plot , where first I sawe thy face : And say the Gods haue thée indude , with giftes of goodly grace . Whose vertues mixt with pittie great , hir Counsell sought to saue : Who being voyde of hir good helpe , long since had line in graue .

I. K. at his Friends departure . AGainst necessitie , there is no lawe they say : But shall such néede bereaue perforce , my dearest friend away . No stroke doth fall so fell , But wisedome yet may ware : So though my hope must néedes begon , yet this doth crushe my care . That he is onely gone , Utilitie to gaine : And still I Ho to sée him well , in ioy returnde againe . His friends that freshely fare , will not his hart refell : God sende thée safe thy soules desire , to please thee passing well . Then shall I yet reioyce , that thou departst from mée : To set thy selfe in sounder sort , as once I hope to sée . When as thou shalt take rode , within the Hauen of blis : Till then , to beare with patience , the chiefest helpe it is . God sende thée well to doe , in due delight to dwell : God send thée that thou most desirst , Mine owne good Ho farewell .

H. his aunswere to his Friend K. PErforce though Pilate bée which hastes thy Ho. away From pleasant porte , where still behinde , his Iem of ioy doth stay : Yea though the furious floodes , his beaten barke doe waste , Which gaping gulfes oft threatneth sore to swallow vp in haste : Yet distance none so great , nor plundge of present paine Shall cause me once my friend forget , whilst lyfe in lim shall raigne , Whose stedfast truth well tryed , whose golden giftes of grace : Whose manlie minde , whose friendship firme , who liues and will not brace ? Let fortune worke hir worst , and spoute hir spightfull spight : In welth in wo in ioy in care , yet I in thée delight . To whome ten thousande thankes I yéelde for thy good will : And where thou woulst me one good hap , I wishe thée twentie still . Farewell O Titus true , whose lyke were harde to finde : Farewell for faith a Phoenix firme , O curteous Keeper kinde .

A Poesie . EXpend my words which soule with hart doth write Let that be loude which loues thee passing well : In space comes grace , as worthie wits recite , Soule hart and hand thou hast no more I tell . Attend on God and waite his will to worke , Be sober , wise , discréete in time and place : Estéeme a friend where earnest hart doth lurke , Trie ere thou trust , and shonne no pooremans case , Higher who clims , the déeper downe he fell , But set my broken barke in calme to starte : Reiect no right , lose not a heauen for hell . Applie to purchase praise by due desarte . Deride no wight , the best good ayde may mend , Beware betime , be wise , in courtesie : Use time and place as may to vertue tend , Right thus thou mayst thy praise amount on hie . No wight , no welth , no hart ( but thou alone ) Enforceth me at times to ioy and mone .

To his C. MY wofull hart with pinching paine oprest , My carefull corps yclad with heauinesse : My restlesse lims , that takth no quiet rest , Doe wishe for death the ende of déepe distresse . Why should I then prolong my dayes in paine . Why doe I seeke to heale my helthlesse hart : Or why doth lyfe in lanquisht limes remaine , And still increase my bitter bale and smart . When hart when hands when corps & soule to die , Doe willing yeelde as lothing lenger lyfe : And death alone is ende continuallie , Of worldly woes of cursed care and strife , Which fiercely flow on me to worke my spight : Since I of force must now for go thy sight , Whose face to vewe was onely my delight .

To his fayned Friends . THough some perchaunce there bée , That would me gladly spot : Yet shall they neuer sée , Such chaunce to light my lot . Ne yet their craftie wayes , So closely clokte shall winne To them but little prayse , If once I doe beginne : Hereafter comes not yet , Ye●●●ce a time I trust : Will serue wherein to méete , With such as be vniust . Wherefore these words I vse , I nothing néede to tell : Nor you theron to muse , Who knowes my meaning well .

A Poesie . IN morning still when thou dost rise , sée that in minde thou haue : To spende the day which doth ensue , as bed should be thy graue .

Another . THere nothing is that nature here hath wrought , Shall not consume and turne at last to nought . FINIS .

A farewell to his Friend T. Hooper . WHen as the soking sap , crept vp on spraies that budde : And blosomde branch with goodly gréene , gan cloth the naked woode . When Winters horie frostes , milde March enforst to flee : Then came my golden faithfull friend , and swéetely chéered mée . Whose face at first to vewe , mée musde full wounderous : For I assone had thought to sée , of Troy king Priamus . He cheerde my drooping hart , in heauie ●ap that stoode : With him to be , with him to talke , was all my chiefest foode . Eche drop of liuely bloud , that skipt in springing vaines , Did leape for heape of passing sport of hart , where ioy remaines . Whome I haue thirsted oft , in wishing hart full faine : Now is he come , but O alas , he sone is gone againe . And wilt thou now departe , from me on sodaine thus ? Then may I say all ioy is vaine , and worlde growes worse and worse . And though that flowers in May , doe chéere the laughing fieldes : Yet winters stormes with pinching colde , the woodes of leaues beguiles . Thus chaunge of time and place , doth chaunge a mans degree : And richest man in greatest ioy , may chaunce in woe to die . So when the howre was come , that hope returnes me fro : In heauie moning wayling hart , farewell I say in wo. Farewell my Damon déere , now loth depart I sing : And lingring steps against their will , from thée my corps did bring . And downe into my hart there dropt the drops of care : And inwardly my sobs I soope , that rake and rent me thare . Now all my ioy is gone , and I in dumps am cast : O would to God thy swéete abode , might harmelesse euer last . If will were now in force , to thée my flight should bée ? Where are the Muses nine that sing , in heauenly harmonie . But nowe we must depart , faire wordes false friend men say , Nor he that files his smoothed spéeche , is faithfull friend alway . The God deuine thée kéepe , in firme felicitie : And breake the bragges of curssed curres , that iarre their teeth at thée . That so thy fatall thréede , well spoon may stedfast stan , To runne the race of Nestors yéeres , a golden aged man . And farewell friend in déede , farewell my towre of trust : Would I might alwayes bide with thee , farewell since néedes it must .

To his Frowarde Friend . MEn say in common tales , into a Prouerb gone : More better t is a badde excuse , at all then to haue none . And was I in the blame , you knewe well what I ment : And though I winkt in colourde sort , you knewe my whole intent . If great your grace had bene , you might perceyue well this : For little signes are knowne full well , where great affection is . And eke of péering sparke , doth growe a flashing flame : Loe now I see you will not know , though well you knewe the same . But of such womans mindes , eche man a store may finde : Which still in things that pleaseth not , forsooth they will be blinde . And where they fansie not , the thing they haue in hande : They say good Sir be packing hence , I cannot vnderstande . And since it is your wont , as plaine I doe perceaue : I pray you giue me licence nowe , to take my humble leaue . For I must néedes be dead , but not before to morow : My death requires no ernest hast , I néede not greatly sorow . But yet I lie in care , I cannot sléepe for loue : No more then he that sleepes all night , and neuer once doth moue . What shall I doe poore soule , alack how I doe mone : When that my stomack well is fed , my lust to meate is gone . Beholde what care I take , my teares doe flow as fast : As Aprill showres doe fall in Iune , when will my plaint be past ? Alas good simple peate , of dull and féeble braine : You know not well the woode for trées , God wote ye are full plaine . But easie truely t is , your ignoraunce to show : In things which by your froward will , you neuer sought to know . Farewell my friendly foe , as plaine God wote ye bée : So pray I once that you may haue , your two eies well to sée . And well to vnderstande , of me your true loue lost : If blinde ye bée , smell yet before , take héede beware the post . I doubt not but in space , you shall your sight obtaine . When as perchaunce you may desire , your true loue olde againe .

The opinion he hath of his Friend absent . THy right discent from worthie auncetrie , Hath iustly gote a praise by their good factes : Of all , as well the high as low degrée , Much more yet gote thou hast by thy owne actes . As well thy workes thy will , thy wyt doe teach , Still séeking that , which passeth not thy reach . Lyke lyfe thou leads , that poore for thée doe pray , Upon their knees thy gentle race to fende : Their néedie sutes with helping hande to stay , The thing which thou doest prudently pretend . Race rightly rulde , of brest in iustice bolde , Eche vertue séekes hir harbour here to holde . Loe what mishap hath maymed me so sore , Like one of thine that there I may not dwell : Estéeme me not the lesse of Dunster store . Since hart is there , where care doth corps expell . Quaint fortune frownes on me so egerlie , Unnatiue soyle that best I may not be . Except my minde I doe not thée forget : Although farre thence false fortune doth me set . Runne rightly foorth , as right thou hast begoon , Then trump shall sound thou hast the conquest woon .

Fraunces Flower in the commendation of the Authour . THe Schooles of skill maintayned are , by yonglings hote desier : And 〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉〈◊〉 all decrepide playnth , his Muses simple hier , For Nature now is girte to giue , the price of mickle praise : To such a wight so worthie welth , to passe his foundrisse daies . O happie hande to frame the moulde , in eche consenting parte : That dare when Muse most perfite is , compare it selfe with arte . Pallas ycleped learnings Quéene , if Mars in armour were : The fierce attempt of Natures will , may well and well forbeare . For she alone can worke hir will , as Ladie of hir list : But féeble is the force of arte , where Nature doth resist . No light but of the heauen , no furie but of hell : No vertue if Minerua fayle , as science oft doth tell . Then muse no whit to sée a gift , ygraft in this my friende : Whose pleasant verse by natures skill , to thée doth pleasures lende . The plunging minde in deepe desires , may here in arbor rare : Bereaue vnrest with pleasures rife , and rid his soule from care . As Pamphlets for repast , present , good will of writers parte : So Poems proue , and Poesies praise , a well good wylling hart . How due desart by iust desire , reward may truely craue : The readers may consenting gree , if Howell prayses haue . FINIS . F. Flowar .