The paradyse of daynty deuises aptly furnished, with sundry pithie and learned inuentions: deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwards, sometimes of her Maiesties chappel: the rest, by sundry learned gentlemen, both of honour, and woorshippe. viz. S. Barnarde. E.O. L. Vaux. D.S. Iasper Heyvvood. F.K. M. Bevve. R. Hill. M. Yloop, vvith others. Edwards, Richard, 1523?-1566. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A21161 of text S105445 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 7516). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 198 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 49 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A21161 STC 7516 ESTC S105445 99841173 99841173 5735 2240852029

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.

 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. A21161) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 5735) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 337:10) The paradyse of daynty deuises aptly furnished, with sundry pithie and learned inuentions: deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwards, sometimes of her Maiesties chappel: the rest, by sundry learned gentlemen, both of honour, and woorshippe. viz. S. Barnarde. E.O. L. Vaux. D.S. Iasper Heyvvood. F.K. M. Bevve. R. Hill. M. Yloop, vvith others. Edwards, Richard, 1523?-1566. [8], 88 p. By [R. Jones for?] Henry Disle, dwellyng in Paules Churchyard, at the south west doore of Saint Paules Church, and are there to be solde, Imprinted at London : 1576. In verse. Actual printer's name conjectured by STC; there is a change in typography at F1. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery. eng English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700 -- Early works to 1800. eebo The paradyse of daynty deuises, aptly furnished, with sundry pithie and learned inuentions: deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwards, some Edwards, Richard, 1576 98 31934 27 0 0 0 0 0 8.45 B The rate of 8.45 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the B category of texts with fewer than 10 defects per 10,000 words. 2010-12 Assigned for keying and markup 2010-12 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2011-01 Sampled and proofread 2011-01 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2011-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

THE PARADYSE of daynty deuises , aptly furnished , with sundry pithie and learned inuentions : deuised and written for the most part , by M. Edwards , sometimes of her Maiesties Chappel : the rest , by sundry learned Gentlemen , both of honor , and woorshippe . viz. S. Barnarde . E. O. L. Vaux . D. S. Iasper Heywood . F. K. M. Bewe . R. Hill. M. Yloop , with others .

EGO SVM VIA ET VERITAS

IMPRINTED AT LONdon by Henry Disle , dwellyng in Paules Churchyard , at the South west doore of Saint Paules Church , and are there to be solde . 1576.

blazon or coat of arms IE NE CHERCHE Q'VNE

TO THE RIGHT HONOrable Syr Henry Compton Knight , Lorde Compton , of Compton .

RIGHT HONORABLE , and my very good Lord , ( presuming vppon your curtesy ) J am bolde to present vnto your honor , this small volume : Entituled , The Paradise of deynty deuises , being penned by diuers learned Gentlemen , and collected togeather , through the trauell of one , both of woorship and credite , for his priuate vse : who not long since departed this lyfe , which when J had perused ouer , not with out the aduise of sundry my freendes , J determined by theyr good motion , to set them in print , who thervnto greatly perswaded me , with these and like woordes : The wryters of them , were both of honor and worship : besides that , our owne countrey men , and such as for theyr learnyng and grauitie , might be accounted of among the wisest . Furthermore , the ditties both pithy and pleasant , aswell for the inuention as meter , and wyll yeelde a farre greater delight , being as they are so aptly made to be set to any song in .5 . partes , or song to instrument . Which wel consydering , J purposed not to forsake so good an occasion , beseeching your honor to accept it in good part , cheefely for the aucthours sake : who though some of them are departed this lyfe , yet theyr woorthy doings shall continue for euer : for like as the shadow foloweth the body , so praise foloweth vertue : and as the shadow goeth somtimes before , and sometimes behind , so doth praise also to vertue : but the later it commeth , the greater it is , and to be the better esteemed . Thus fearing to offende your honor with these my rude speaches , J end , wishing your L. many yeres of ioy .

Your good Lordships wholy to commaund , H. D.
THE TRANSLATION of the blessed Saint Barnards verses , conteynyng the vnstable felicitie of this wayfaring worlde . CVR mundus militat , sub vana gloria , cuius prosperitas est transitoria ; Tam cito labitur , eius potentia , quam vasa figuli , quae sunt fragilia . WHY dooth eache state apply it selfe to worldly prayse ? And vndertake such toyle , to heape vp honours gayne : Whose seate , though seeming sure , on fickle fortune stayes , Whose giftes were neuer proued , perpetuall to remayne . But euen as earthen pot , with euery fillip fayles , So fortunes fauour flittes , and fame with honour quayles . Plus crede litteris , scriptis in glacie , quam mundi fragilis , vanae fallaciae . Fallax in premijs , virtutis specie , quae nunquam habuit , tempus fiduciae . Thinke rather firme to finde , a figure grauen in Ise , Whose substance subiect is , to heate of shinyng sunne : Then hope for stedfast stay , in wanton worldes deuise , Whose fained fond delightes , from falsheds forge doo come . And vnder Vertues veyle , are largely dealt about , Deceiuing those , who thinke their date wyll neuer out . Magis credendum est viris fallacibus , quam mundi miseris prosperitatibus . Falsis insanijs & voluptatibus , falsis quoquae studiis & vanitatibus . The trifeling truethles tongue , of rumours lying lippes , Deserues more trust , then dooth the highest happy hap : That world to worldlinges geues , for see how honour slippes , To foolishe fond cenceytes , to pleasures poysoned sap . To studyes false in proofe , to artes applyed to gayne , To fickle fancies toyes , which wysedome deemeth vayne . Dic vbi Salomon , olim tam nobilis ? vel vbi Samson est , dux inuincibilis ? Vel dulcis Ionathas , multum amabilis ? vel pulcher Absolon , vultu mirabilis ? Where is the sacred king , that Salomon the wyse ? Whose wysdome , former time , of duetie did commend : Where is that Samson strong , that monstrous man in syze ? Whose forced arme , dyd cause the mighty pillers bend . Where is the peareles Prince , the freendly Ionathas ? Or Absolon , whose shape and fauour did surpasse . Quo Caesar abijt , celsus imperio , vel diues splendidus , totus in prandie . Dic vbi Tullius , clarus eloquio , vel Aristoteles , summus ingenio . Where is that Caesar nowe , whose hygh renowmed fame , Of sundry conquestes wonne , throughout the world did sound ? Or Diues riche in store , and rich in richely name , Whose chest with gold and dishe , with daynties did abound . Where is the passing grace , of Tullies pleding skill ? Or Aristotles vayne , whose penne had witte and wyll . O esca vermium , ò massa pulueris , ò ros , ò vanitas , cur sic extolleris ? Ignoras penitus vtrum ●ras vixeris , fac bonum omnibus , quam diu poteris . O foode of filthy woorme , oh lumpe of lothsome clay , O life full like the deawe , which mornyng sunne dooth waste : O shadowe vayne , whose shape with sunne dooth shrinke away , Why gloryest thou so much , in honour to be plaste ? Sith that no certayne houre , of life thou dost enioy , Most fyt it were , thy tyme in goodnesse to employ . Quam breue festum est , haec mund gloria , vt vmbra hominum , sic eius gaudia , Quae semper subtrahit aeterna praemia , & ducunt hominum , ad dura deuia . How short a banquet seemes the pompe of high renowme ? How like the senseles shape , of shiuering shadowe thinne ? Are wanton worldly toyes , whose pleasure plucketh downe , Our harts from hope , & hands from works , which heauen should win . And takes vs from the trod , which guides to endles gayne , And sets vs in the way , that leades to lastyng payne . Haec mundi gloria , quae magnipenditur , sacris in litteris , flos faeni dicitur . Vt leue folium , quod vento rapitur , sic vita hominem , hac vita tollitur . The pompe of worldly prayse , which worldlinges hold so deere , In holy sacred booke , is likened to a flowre : Whose date dooth not conteyne , a weeke , a moonth , or yeere , But springing nowe , dooth fade againe within an houre . And as the lightest leafe , with winde about is throwne , So lyght is lyfe of man , and lightly hence is blowne . Finis . My Lucke is losse .
Beware of had I wyst . BEware of had I wyst , whose fine bringes care and smart , Esteeme of all as they deserue , and deeme as deemd thou art : So shall thy perfect freend , enioy his hoped hyre , And faythlesse fawning foe , shall misse th effect of his desyre . Good wyll shall haue his gayne , and hate shal heape despite , A faithlesse freend shall finde distrust , and loue shall reape delight . Thy selfe shall rest in peace , thy freend shall ioy thy fate , Thy foe shall fret at thy good happe , and I shall ioy thy state . But this my fond aduise , may seeme perchaunce but vayne , As rather teaching how to lose , then howe a freend to gayne . But this not my intent , to teache to finde a freend , But safely how to loue and leaue , is all that I entend . And yf you prooue in part , and finde my counsell true , Then wyshe me well for my good wyll , t is all I craue adewe . Finis . My lucke is losse .
The perfect tryall of a faythfull freend . NOt stayed state , but feeble stay , Not costly robes , but bare aray : Not passed wealth , but present want , Not heaped store , but sclender skant : Not plenties purse , but poore estate , Not happy happe , but froward fate : Not wyshe at wyll , but want of ioy , Not harts good health , but hartes annoy : Not freedomes vse , but prisons thrall , Not costly seate , but lowest fall : Not weale I meane , but wretched woe , Dooth truely trye , the freend from foe : And nought , but froward fortune proues , Who fawning faines , or simply loues . Finis . Yloop.
No pleasure , without some payne . SWeete were the ioyes , that both might like and last , Strange were the state , exempt from all distresse : Happy the lyfe , that no mishap should tast , Blessed the chaunce , might neuer change successe . Were such a lyfe to leade , or state to proue , Who would not wyshe , that such a lyfe were loue . But O the sowry sauce of sweete vnsure , When pleasures flye , and flee with wast of winde : The trustlesse traynes that hoping hartes allure , When sweete delightes doo but allure the minde . When care consumes and wastes the wretched wight , Whyle fancy feedes , and drawes of her delight . What lyfe were loue , yf loue were free from payne ? But O that payne , with pleasure matcht should meete : Why dyd the course of nature so ordayne , That sugred sowre , must sause the bitter sweete . Which sowre from sweete , might any meanes remoue . What happe , what heauen , what lyfe , were lyke to loue . Finis . E. S.
1. Our pleasures are vanities . BEhold the blast which blowes , the blossomes from the tree , The end whereof consumes and comes , to nought we see . Ere thou therefore be blowen , from life that may not last , Begin for grace , to call for time mispent and past . Haue mind on brittle life , whose pleasures are but vayne , On death likewyse bethinke , how thou maist not remaine . And feare thy Lord to greene , which sought thy soule to saue , To synne no more be bent , but mercie aske and haue . For death who dooth not spare , the kinges on earth to kill , Shall reape also from thee , thy pleasure , life , and will . That lyfe which yet remaynes , and in thy brest appeares , Hath sowne in thée sutch seedes , you ought to weede with teares . And life that shall succeede , when death is worne and past , Shall spring for euer then , in ioy or paine to last . Where death on life hath power ye see , that life also , Hath mowen the fruites of death , which neuer more shall growe . FINIS . D. S.
2. M. Edwardes MAY . WHen MAY is in his prime , then MAY eche hart reioyce , When MAY bedeckes eche branch with greene , eche bird streines forth his voyce . The liuely sappe creepes , vp into the bloming thorne , The flowres , which cold in prison kept , now laughes the frost to scorne . All natures Impes triumphes , whyles ioyfull May dooth last , When MAY is gone , of all the yeere the pleasant time is past . MAY makes the cherfull hue , MAY breedes and bringes newe blood , MAY marcheth throughout euery limme , MAY makes the mery moode . MAY pricketh tender hartes , their warbling notes to tune , Ful strange it is , yet some wee see , doo make their MAY in Iune . Thus thinges are straungely wrought , whyles ioyfull MAY doth last , Take MAY in time , when MAY is gone , the pleasant time is past . All ye that liue on earth , and haue your MAY at wyll , Reioyce in MAY , as I doo now , and vse your MAY with skill . Vse MAY , whyle that you may , for MAY hath but his time , When all the fruite is gone , it is to late the tree to clime . Your liking and your lust , is freshe whyles MAY dooth last , When MAY is gone , of all the yeere the pleasaunt time is past . Finis .
3. Faire woordes make fooles faine . IN youthfull yeeres when fyrst my young desyres began , To pricke mee foorth to serue in Court a sclender tall young man . My Fathers blessing then I askt vpon my knee , Who blessing me with trembling hand , these woordes gan say to me . My sonne , God guide thy way , and shielde thee from mischaunce , And make thy iust desartes in Court , thy poore estate to aduaunce . Yet when thou art become one of the Courtly trayne , Thinke on this prouerbe olde ( qd he ) that faire woordes make fooles faine . This counsell grauely geuen , most strange appeares to me . Tyll tract of time , with open eyes , had made me plainely see . What subtill sleightes are wrought , by painted tales deuise , When hollowe hartes with freendly shoes the simple doo entise . To thinke al golde that shines to feede their fonde desire , Whose shiuering cold is warmd with smoke , in stead of flaming fire . Sith talke of tickle trust , dooth breede a hope most vaine , This prouerbe true by proofe I finde , that faire woordes make fooles faine . Faire speache alway doeth well , where deedes insue faire woordes , Faire speache againe , alway dooth euil , that busshes geues for birdes . Who hopes to haue fayre woordes , to trye his luckie lot , If I may counsel let him strike it , whyle the iron is hotte . But them that feede on cloddes , in steade of pleasaunt grapes , And after warning often geuen , for better lucke still gapes . Full loth I am , yet must I tell them in woordes plaine , This prouerbe old proues true in them , that faire words makes fooles faine . Wo woorth the time that woordes , so slowly turne to deedes , Wo worth the time , that faire sweete floures , are growen to rotten weedes . But thrise wo woorth the time , that trueth , away is fled , Wherein I see how simple hartes , with woordes are vainely fed . Trust no faire woordes therefore , where no deedes doo ensue , Trust words , as skilful Falkeners doo trust Haukes that neuer flew . Trust deedes , let wodrdes be woordes , which neuer wrough me gaine , Let my experience make you wyse , and let woordes make fooles faine . M. Edwardes .
4. In his extreame sycknesse . What greeues my bones , and makes my body faint ? What prickes my flesh and teares my head in twaayne ? Why doo I wake , when rest should me attaynt ? When others laugh , why doo I liue in paine ? I tosse I turne , I change from side to side , And stretche me oft , in sorowes linkes betyde . I tosse , as one betost in waues of care , I turne , to flee the woes of lothsome lyfe : I change to spie , yf death this corps might spare , I stretche to heauen , to ridde me of this strife , Thus doo I stretche and change , and tosse and turne , Whyle I in hope of heauen by life doo burne . Then holde thee still , let be thy heauinesse , Abolishe care , forgeat thy pining woe : For by this meanes soone shalt thou finde redresse , When oft betost , hence thou to heauen must goe . Then tosse and turne , and tumble franke and free . O happy thryse , when thou in heauen shalt be . Finis . L. Vaux .
5. For Christmas day . Reioyce reioyce , with hart and voyce . In Christes birth this day reioyce . FRom Virgins wombe , this day dyd spring , The precious seede that onely saued man : This day let man reioyce and sweetely sing , Since on this day saluation fyrst began . This day dyd Christe mans soule from death remooue , With glorious saintes to dwell in heauen aboue . This day to man came pledge of perfect peace , This day to man came loue and vnitie : This day mans greefe began for to surcease , This day did man receyue a remedie . For eche offence , and euery deadly sinne , With guiltie hart , that erst he wandred in . In Christes flocke , let loue be surely plaste , From Christes flocke , let concorde hate expell : Of Christes flocke , let loue be so embraste , As we in Christe , and Christe in vs may dwell . Christe is the aucthour of all vnitie , From whence proceedeth all felicitie . O syng vnto this glittering glorious king , O prayse his name , let euery liuing thing : Let hart and voyce like Belles of syluer ring , The comfort that this day did bring . Let Lute , let Shalme , with sounde of sweete delight , The ioy of Christes birth this day resight . Finis . F. K.
6. Easter day . ALl mortall men this day reioyce , In Christ that you redeemed hath : By death , with death sing we with voyce , To him that hath appesed Gods wrath . Due vnto man for sinfull path , Wherein before he went astray : Geue thankes to him with perfect faith , That for mankind hath made this glorious day . This day he rose from tombe againe , Wherin his precious corse was laide : Whom cruelly the Iewes had slaine , With blooddy woundes full ill araide . O Man be nowe no more dismaide , If thou hencefoorth from sinne doo stay , Of death thou needest not be afraide , Christ conquered death for this his glorious day . His death preuayled had no whit , As Paul the Apostle well doth write , Except he had vprysen yet , From death to life by Godlike might . With most triumphant glittering light . This day his glory shined I say , And made vs bright as sunne this glorious day . O man aryse with Christe therefore , Since he from sinne hath made thee free : Beware thou fall in sinne no more , But ryse as Christe dyd ryse for thee . So mayst thou him in glory see , When he at day of doome shal say : Come thou my childe and dwell with me , God Graunt vs all , to see that glorious day . Finis . Iasper Heywood .
7. For Whitsunday . COme holy ghost eternall God , and ease the wofull greefe : That thorough the heapes of heauy sinne , can no where find releefe . Doo thou O God redresse The great distresse Of sinfull heauinesse . Come comfort the aflicted thoughtes , of my consumed hart : O ryd the pearcing pricking paynes , of my tormenting smart . O holy Ghost graunt me That I by thee From sinne may purged be . Thou art my God , to thee alone , I wyll commend my cause : Not glittering golde nor precious stone , Shall make me leaue thy lawes . O teache me then the way Whereby I may Make thee my onely stay . My lippes , my tongue , my hart and al , Shall spreade thy mightie name : My voyce shall neuer cease to sound , The prayses of the same . Yea euery liuing thing Shall sweetely syng To thee ( O heauenly king . ) Finis . M. Kindlemarsh .
8. Who mindes to bring his shippe to happy shore , Must care to knowe the lawes of wysdomes lore . MY freend , yf thou wylt credite me in ought , To whom the trueth by tryall well appeares : Nought woorth is wit , till it be dearely bought , There is no wysedome but in hoaric heares . Yet yf I may of wysedome oft define , As well as others haue of happinesse : Then to my woordes my freende , thy eare encline , The thinges that make thee wyse , are these I gesse . Feare God , and knowe thy selfe in eche degree , Be freend to all , familier but to fewe : Too light of credite , see thou neuer be , For tryall oft in trust , dooth treason shewe . To others faultes cast not to much thy eye , Accuse no man of gilt , amend thy owne : Of medling much , dooth mischiefe oft aryse , And oft debate , by tickle tongue is sowne . What thing thou wylt haue hid , to none declare , In woorde or deede , beware of had I wist : So spend thy good , that some thou euer spare , For freendes like Haukes , doo soare from emptie fist . Cut out thy coate , according to thy cloth , Suspected persons see thou alwayes flee : Beleeue not him that once hath broke his troth , Nor yet of gift , without desart be free . Time quickly slips beware how thou it spend , Of wanton youth , repentes a painefull age : Beginne nothing without an eye to th end , Nor bowe thyne eare from counsell of the sage . If thou to farre let out thy fancie slip , And witlesse wyll from reasons rule outstart : Thy folly , shall at length be made thy whippe , And sore , the stripes of shame , shal cause thee smart . To doo too much for olde men is but lost , Of freendship had to women comes like gaine : Bestowe not thou on children to much cost , For what thou dooest for these , is all in vayne . The olde man or he can requite , he dyes , Vnconstant is the womans waueryng minde : Full soone the boy thy freendship wyl despise , And him for loue thou shalt vngratefull finde . The aged man is like the barren ground , The woman like the Reede that wagges with winde : There may no trust in tender yeeres be found , And of the three , the boy is most vnkinde . If thou haue found a faithfull freend in deede . Beware thou lose not loue of such a one : He shall sometime stand thee in better steede , Then treasure great of golde or precious stone . Finis . Iasper Heywood .
9. Of the vnconstant stay of fortunes giftes . IF Fortune be thy stay , thy state is very tickle , She beares a double face , disguised , false , and fickle . This day she seemes to smile , to morrowe wyl she frowne , What nowe she sets aloft , anone she throweth downe . Fly Fortunes sly deseytes , let Vertue be thy guide , If that you doo intend in happy state to bide . Vpon the setled Rocke , thy building surest standes , Away it quickly weares , that resteth on the sandes . Dame Vertue is the Rocke , that yeeldes assured stay , Dame Fortune is the Sand , that skowreth soone away , Chuse that is certaine , let thinges vncertayne passe , Preferre the precious golde , before the brittle glasse . Sly Fortune hath her sleightes , she plaies vpon the packe , Looke whom she fauours most , at length she turnes to wracke . But Vertue simply deales , she shuns deceitfull trayne , Who is by Fortune raysed vp , shall neuer fall againe . Sticke fast to Vertue then , that geues assured trust , And fly from Fortunes freekes , that euer prooue vniust . Finis . F. K.
10. Promise is debt . IN my accompt , the promise that is vowed , Among the good , is holden such a debt : As he is thought , no whit to be alowed , That setteth light his promise to forget . And for my part , I wyl not linke in loue , With fickle folke , whose fancies oft remoue . My happy gaine , I doo esteeme for such , As fewe haue found , in these our doutful dayes : To finde a freend , I thinke it be as much , Aste winne , a fort full fraught of noble praise . Of all the goodes , that there may be possest , A faithfull freend , I iudge to be the best . O freendly league , although to late begunne , Yet time shall try our troth , is well imployed : And that we both shall see , that we haue wonne , Such fastned faith , as can not be destroyed . By enuious rage , or slaunders bitter blowe That seekes the good , to ouerthrowe , Finis . R. Hill.
11. No woordes , but deedes . THE wrong is great , the paine aboue my power , That yeeldes such care in doutfull dennes to drowne : Such happe is hard , where fortune dooth so lower , As freendly looke , is turned to froward frowne . Is this the trust that faithfull treendes can finde ? With those that yet haue promise broke ? By deedes in dout , as though no woordes can binde , A vowed freend to hold him to his yoke . O faithlesse freend ? what can assure your minde , That doutes so soone , before you haue cause why ? To what hard happe ? dooth Fortune here me binde , When woordes nor deedes can no way satisfye . What can I write ? that hath not oft been saide ? What haue I saide ? that other hath not affyrmed ? What is approued ? that ought to be assayed ? Or what is vowed ? that shall not be performed ? Cast of mistrust , in haste no credite giue , To this or that , that breedeth freendes vnrest : No doubt at all , but trust me if I liue , My deedes shall prooue , that all is for the best . And this beleeue , the Sea shall ceasse to flowe , The Sunne to shine within the setled skie : All thinges on earth , shall leaue to spring and growe , Yea euery foule shall want , his winges to flye . Eare I in thought , shall seeme once to retyre , If you my freend remaine , as I desyre : Nowe lose no time , but vse that whyle you may , Forget not this , a dogge shall haue a day . Finis . R. D.
12. He desyreth exchange of lyfe . THE day delayed , of that I most doo wishe , Wherewith I feede and starue , in one degree : With wishe and want , still serued in one dishe , Aliue as dead , by proofe as you may sowe . To whom of olde , this prouerbe well it serues , Whyle grasse dooth growe , the seelly Horse he sterues . Tweene these extreames , thus doo I rome the race , Of my poore life , this certaynely I knowe : Tweene would and want , vnwarely that dooth passe , More swift then shot , out of the archers howe . As Spider drawes her line in vayne all day , I watch the net , and others haue the pray , And as by proofe , the greedy dogge d●●● gn●●● , The bared bone , all onely for the taste : So to and fro , this lothsome life I drawe , With fancies forst , and fled with vaine repast . Narsissus brought vnto the water brinke , So aye thirst I , the more that I doo drinke . Loe thus I dye , and yet I seeme not sicke , With smart vnseene , my selfe my selfe I weare : With prone desire , and power that is not quicke , With hope aloft nowe drenched in dispaire , Trayned in trust , for no reward assignd , The more I haste , the more I come behinde . With hurt to heale , in frozen yse to frye , With losse to laugh , this is a woonderous case : Fast fetred here , is forste away to flye , As hunted Hare , that Hound hath in the chase . With winges and spurres , for all the haste I make , As like to lose , as for to drawe the stake . The dayes be long , that hang vpon desert , The life is irke of ioyes that be delayed : The time is short , for to requite the smart , That dooth proceede of promise long vnpaid , That to the last of this my fainting breath , I wishe exchange of life , for happy death . Finis . L. Vaux .
13. Of the instabilitie of youth . WHEN I looke backe , and in my selfe beholde , The wandring wayes , that youth could not descry : And markt the fearefull course that youth did holde , And mette in mind , eache steppe youth strayed a wry . My knees I bowe , and from my hart I call , O Lorde , forget these faultes and follies all . For nowe I see , howe voyde youth is of skill , I see also his prime time and his end : I doo confesse my faultes and all my yll , And sorrowe sore , for that I did offend . And with a mind repentant of all crimes , Pardon I aske for youth , ten thousand times . The humble hart , hath daunted the proud mind , Eke wysedome hath geuen ignorance a fall : And wit hath taught , that folly could not finde , And age hath youth , her subiect and her thrall . Therefore I pray , O Lorde of life and trueth , Pardon the faultes committed in my youth . Thou that dydst graunt the wyse king his request ? Thou that in Whale , thy prophet didst preserue : Thou that forgauest the wounding of thy brest ? Thou that dydst saue the theefe in state to sterue . Thou only God , the geuer of all grace ? Wipe out of mind , the path of youthes vaine race . Thou that by power , to lyfe didst rayse the dead . Thou that of grace restorest the blinde to sight : Thou that for loue , thy life and loue out bled , Thou that of fauour , madest the lame goe ryght . Thou that canst heale , and helpe in all assayes , Forgeue the gilth , that grewe in youthes vayne wayes . And nowe since I , with faith and doubtlesse minde , Doo fly to thee by prayer , to appease thy yre : And since that thee , I onely seeke to finde , And hope by faith , to attayne my iust desyre . Lorde , minde no more youthes error and vnskill , And able age , to doo thy holy wyll . Finis . L. Vaux .
14. Most happy is that state alone , Where woordes and deedes agree in one . BY painted woordes , the silly simple man , To trustlesse trappe , is trayned now and than . And by conseyte , of sweete alluring tale , He bites the baites , that breedes his bitter bale . To beawties blast , cast not thy rolling eye : In pleasaunt greene , doo stinging Serpent lye . The golden Pill , hath but a bitter taste : In glittering glasse , a poyson ranckest plaste . So pleasant woordes , without perfourming deedes : May well be deemed , to spring of Darnel seedes . The freendly deede is it , that quickly tryes : Where trusty faith , and freendly meaning lyes . That state therefore , most happy is to me : Where woordes and deedes , most faithfully agree . My freend , yf thou wylt keepe thy honest name : Fly from the blotte , of barking slaunders blame . Let not in woord , thy promise be more large : Then thou in deede , art wylling to discharge . Abhorred is that false dissembling broode , That seemes to beare , two faces in one hoode . To say a thing , and not to meane the same : Wyll turne at length , to lose of thy good name . Wherefore my freend , let double dealing goe : In steade whereof , let perfect plainenesse flowe . Doo thou no more , in idle woordes exceede : Then thou intendes to doo , in very deede . So good report , shall spreade thy woorthy prayse : For being iust in woord and deede alwayes . You worldly wightes , that worldly dooers are : Before you let your woord slip foorth to farre , Consyder wel , what inconuenience springes : By breache of promise made , in lawfull thinges . First , God mislikes where such deceite dooth swarme : Next , it redoundeth vnto thy neighbours harme . And last of all , which is not least of all : For such offence , thy conscience suffer shall . As barren groundes , bringes foorth but rotten weedes : From barren woordes , so fruitelesse chaffe proceedes . As sauerie flowres , doo spring in fertill ground : So trusty freendes , by tryed freendes are found . To shunne therefore the woorst , that may ensue : Let deèdes alway , approue thy sayinges true . Finis . F. K.
15. Who wyll aspire to dignitie , By learnyng must aduaunced be . THE poore that liue in needie rate , By learning doo great richesse gayne : The riche that liue in wealthy state , By learnyng doo their wealth mainteyne . Thus ritch and poore , are furthered still . By sacred rules of learned skill . All fond conceites of franticke youth . The golden gyft of learning stayes : Of doubtfull thinges to searche the trueth , Learning sets foorth the reddy wayes . O happy him doo I repute , Whose brest is fraught with learninges fruite . There growes no Corne within the feelde . That Oxe and Plough did neuer tyll : Right so the mind no fruite can yeelde . That is not lead by learninges skill . Of ignoraunce comes rotten weedees , Of learnyng springes right noble deedes . Like as the Captayne hath respect . To trayne his souldiers in aray : So Learning dooth mans mind direct . By Vertues staffe his lyfe to stay . Though Freendes and Fortune waxeth skant . Yet learned men shall neuer want . You Impes therefore in youth be sure . To fraught your mindes with learned thinges : For Learning is the fountayne pure , Out from the which all glory springes . Who so therefore wyll glory winne , With Learning fyrst , must needes beginne . Finis . F. K.
16. Mans flitting life , fyndes surest stay , Where sacred Vertue beareth sway . THE sturdy Rocke , for all his strength , By raaging Seas , is rent in twayne : The Marble stone , is pearst at length , With little droppes , of drislyng rayne . The Oxe dooth yeelde vnto the yoke , The Steele obeyeth the hammer stroke . The stately Stagge , that seemes so stout , By yalpyng Houndes , at bay is set : The swiftest Bird , that flees about , Is caught at length in Fowlers net . The greatest Fishe in deepest Brooke , Is soone deceiued with subtil hooke . Ye man him selfe , vnto whose wyll , All thinges are bounden to obay : For all his witte , and woorthy skill , Dooth fade at length , and fall away . There is nothing , but time dooth wast , The Heauens , the Earth , consume at last . But Vertue sittes , triumphing still , Vpon the Trone , of glorious Fame : Though spitefull Death , mans body kill , Yet hurtes he not , his vertuous name . By Life or death , what so be tides , The state of Vertue , neuer slides . Finis . M. T.
17. Nothing is comparable vnto a faithfull freend . SIth this our time of Freendship is so scant , Sith Freendship nowe in euery place dooth want . Sith euery man of Freendship is so hollowe , As no man rightly knowes which way to followe . Sease not my Muse , cease not in these our dayes , To ryng loude peales , of sacred Freendships prayse . If men be nowe , their owne peculier freendes , And to their neighbours Freendship none pretendes . If men of Freendship shewe them selues so bare , And of their brethren take no freendly care . Forbeare not then my Muse , nor feare not then , To ryng disprayse of these vnfreendly men . Did man of Freendship knowe the mightie power ? Howe great effectes it woorketh euery houre . What store of hidden freendship it retaynes , How still it powreth foorth aboundaunt gaynes . Man would with thee my muse in these our dayes , Ryng out loude peales , of sacred Freendships prayse . Freendship , releeueth mans necessitie , Freendship , comforteth mans aduersitie . Freendship augmenteth mans prosperitie , Frendship preferres man to felicitie . Then ryng my muse , ryng out in these our dayes , Ring out loude peales , of sacred Freendships prayse . Of Freendship , groweth loue and charitie , By Freendship , men are linked in amitie : From Freendship , springeth all commoditie , The fruite of Freendship , is fidelitie . Oh ryng my Muse , ryng out in these our dayes , Peale vpon peale , of sacred Freendships prayse . That man with man , true Freendship may embrace , That man to man , may shewe a freendly face : That euery man , may sowe such freendly seedes , As Freendship , may be found in freendly deedes . And ioyne with me my Muse in these our dayes , To ryng loude peales , of sacred Freendships prayse . Finis . F. K.
18. Respise finem . TO be as wyse as CATO was , Or ritch as CRESVS in his life : To haue the strength of Hercules , Whiche did subdue by force or strife . What helpeth it when Death doth call , The happy ende exceedeth all . The Ritche may well the Poore releeue , The Rulers may redresse eche wrong : The Learned may good counsell geue , But marke the ende , of this my song . Who dooth these thinges , happy they call , Their happy ende exceedeth all . The happiest end , in these our dayes , That all doo seeke , both small and great : Is eyther for Fame , or els for Prayse , Or who may sltte in highest seate . But of these thinges , hap what hap shall , The happy ende exceedeth all . A good beginning oft we see , But seeldome standyng at one stay : For fewe doo lyke the meme degree , Then prayse at parting some men say . The thing whereto eache wight is thrall , The happy ende exceedeth all . The meane estate , that happy life , Whiche liueth vnder gouernaunce : Who seekes no hate nor breedes no strife , But takes in woorth his happy chaunce , If contentation him befall , His happy end , exceedeth all . The longer lyfe that we desyre , The more offence dooth dayly growe : The greater paine it dooth require . Except the Iudge some mercie shewe . Wherefore I thinke , and euer shall , The happy ende exceedeth all . Finis . D. S.
19. He perswadeth his freend , from the fond effectes of loue . WHY art thou bound , and maist goe free , Shall reason yeelde to raging wyll ? Is thraldome like to libertie : Wylt thou exchange thy good for ill : Then shalt thou learne a childishe play , And of eche part to taste and proue , The lookers on , shall iudge and say , Loe this is he that liues by loue . Thy wittes with thoughtes , shal stand at stay , Thy head shall haue but heauie rest : Thy eyes shall watche for wanton prayes , Thy tongue shall shewe thy hartes request . Thy eares shall heare a thousand noyse , Thy hand shall put thy pen to paine : And in the ende , thou shalt dispraise , The life so spent , for such small gaine . If leue and list might neuer cope , Nor youth to runne from reasons race : Nor yf strong sute might winne sure hope , I would lesse blame a louers case . For loue is hotte , with great desire , And sweete delight makes youth so fond , That little sparkes wyl prooue great fyre , And bring free hartes to endlesse bond . Finis .
20. Wantyng his desyre , be complayneth . THe sayling ships with ioy at lenght , do touche the long desired port , The hewing axe the oke doth waste , the battring Canon breakes the fort . Hard hagard Haukes stope to the lure , wild co●s in time the bridle tames , There is nothing so out of vre , but to his kinde long time it frames . Yet this I finde in time , no time can winne my sute , Though oft the tree I clime , I can not catche the fruite . And yet the pleasant branches oft , in yeelding wyse to me doo bowe , When I would touch , they spring aloft , sone are they gone , I wot not howe : Thus I pursue the fleting flood , like Tantalus in hel belowe . Would god my case she vnderstood , which can ful sone releue my woe : Which yf to her were knowen , the fruite were surely mine , She would not let me grone , and brouse vpon the rine . But if my ship with tackle turne , with rented sailes must needes retire , And streame & wind had plainely sworne , by force to hinder my desire : Like one that strikes vpon the rocks , my weerie wrack I should bewaste And learne to know false fortunes mocks , who smiles on me to small auaile : Yet sith she only can , my rented ship restore , To helpe her wracked man , but once I seeke no more . Finis . M. Edwardes .
21. Trye before you trust . IN freendes are found a heape of doubtes , that double dealing vse , A swarme of such I could finde out , whose craft I can accuse : A face for loue , a hart for hate , these faigned freendes can beare , A tongue for troth , a head for wyles , to hurt eche simple eare . In humble port is poyson pact , that plainenesse can not spie , Which credites all , and can not see , where stinging serpentes lye : Through hastie trust , the harmelesse hart , is easely hampred in , And made beleeue it is good golde , when it is lead and tin . The first deceit that bleares mine eyes , is faigned faith profest , The second trappe , is grating talke , that gripes eche strangers brest , The third deceit , is greeting woordes , with colours painted out , Which biddes suspect to feare no smart , nor dread no dangerous dout . The fourth and last , is long repaire , which creepes in freendships lap : And dayly hauntes , that vnder trust , deuiseth many a trap . Lo how false freendes , can frame a fetch , to winne the wil with wyles , To sauce their sleightes with sugred sops , & shadowe harme with smiles . To serue their lustes , are sundry sortes , by practise diuers kindes , Some carries honnie in their mouthes , and venime in their mindes . Mee thinkes the stones within the streetes , should crie out in this case , And euery one that doth them meete , should shunne their double face . Finis . D. S.
22. A Lady forsaken , complayneth . IF pleasures be in painefulnesse ? in pleasures dooth my body rest , If ioyes accorde with carefulnesse ? a ioyfull hart is in my brest : If prison strong be libertie ? in libertie long haue I been , If ioyes accord with miserie ? who can compare a lyfe to myne . Who can vnbind that is sore bound ? who can make free that is sore thrall Or how can any meanes be found ? to comfort such a wretch withall ? None can , but he that hath my hart , conuert my paines to comfort then , Yet since his seruant I became , most like a bondman haue I beene : Since first in bondage I became , my woord and deede was euer such , That neuer once he could me blame , except from louing him too much . Which I can iudge no iust offence , nor cause that I deserud disdayne , Except he meane through false pretence , through forged loued to make a traine Nay nay alas , my fained thoughts my frended & my fained ruth My pleasures past my present plaints , shew wel I meane but to much truth : But since I can not him attaine , against my wil I let him goe , And lest he glorie at my paine , I wyl attempt to cloke my woe . Youth , learne by me , but doo not proue , for I haue proued to my paine , What greeuous greefes do grow by loue , & what it is to loue in vaine . Finis . M. D.
23. Finding worldly ioyes but vanities , he wysheth death . FOrlorne in filthy froward fate , wherein a thousand cares I finde , By whom I doo lament my state , annoide with fond afflicted mind : A wretche in woe , and dare not crie , I liue , and yet I wishe to dye . The day in dole , that seemeth long , I pas with sighes & heauy cheere , And with these eyes I vewe the wrong , that I sustaine by louing here : Where my mishappes as rife doo dwell , As plagues within the pit of hell . A wailing wight I walke alone , in desart dennes there to complaine , Among the sauage sort to mone , I flee my frends where they remaine : And pleasure take to shun the sight , Where erst I felt my cheefe delight . A captiue clapt in chaynes of care , lapt in the lawes of lethall loue , My fleshe & bones consumed bare , with crauling greefes ful strange to proue : Though hap dooth bidde me hope at least , Whiles grasse dooth growe , yet starues the beast . A seeged fort with forraine force , for want of ayde , must yeelde at last , So must my weeried pined corse , submit it selfe to bitter tast : Of crauling care , that carkes my brest , Tyll hop or death , shall breede my rest . Finis . F. M.
24. Hauing marryed a woorthy Lady , and taken away by death , he complayneth his mishap . IN youth when I at large did leade , my life in lustie libertie , When heuy thoughtes no one did spreade , to let my pleasant fantesie No fortune seemd , so hard could fall , This freedome then , that might make thrall . And twentie yeres I skarse had spent , when to make ful my happy fate , Both treasures great were on me cast , with landes and titles of estate : So as more blest then I stoode than , Eke as me thought was neuer man . For of Dame Fortune who is he , coulde more desyre by iust request , The health , with wealth , and libertie , al which at once I thus possest : But maskyng in this ioly ioy , A soden syght , prooud al a toy . For passyng on these merie dayes , with new deuice of pleasures great , And now & then to viewe the rayes , of beauties workes with cunnyng fret : In heauenly hewes , al which as one , I oft behelde , but bounde to none . And one day rowlyng thus my eyes , vpon these blessed wyghts at ease , Among the rest one dyd I see , who strayght my wandryng lookes dyd sease : And stayed them firme , but suche a syght , Of beautie yet sawe neuer wyght . What shal I seke to praise it more , where tongs can not praise the same , But to be short to louers lore , I strayght my senses al dyd frame : And were it wyt , or were it chaunce , I woonne the Garlande in this daunce , And thus wher I before had thought , no hap my fortune might encrese ▪ A double blis this chance forth brought , so did my ladies loue me plese : Her fayth so firme , and constant suche , As neue● hart , can prayse too muche . But now with torments strange I tast , the fickle stay of fortunes whele , And where she raysde from height to cast , with greater force , of greefe to feele : For from this hap of soden frowne , Of Princes face she threwe me downe . And thus exchange now hath it made , my libertie a thing most deare , In hateful prison for to fade , where sundred from my louing feare : My wealth , and health , standes at like stay , Obscurely to consume away . And last when humaine force was none , could part our loue wherin we liued , My ladyes life alas is gone , most cruel death hath it bereued : Whose vertues , her , to God , hath wonne , And least me here , a man vndone . Finis . F. G.
24. A woorthy dittie , song before the Queenes Maiestie at Bristowe . MIstrust not troth , that truely meanes , for euery ielous freke , In steade of wrong , condemne not right , no hidden wrath to wreke ▪ Looke on the light of faultlesse life , how bright her vertues shine , And measure out her steppes eche one , by leuel and by line . Deeme eche desert by vpright gesse , whereby your prayse shal liue , If malice would be match with might , let hate no iudgement geue : Enforse no feare with wresting wittes , in quiet conscience brest , Lend not your eares to busie tongues , which breedeth much vnrest . In doubtfull driftes wade not to farre , it weeries but the mind , Seeke not to search the secret harts , whose thoughtes are hard to find : Auoide from you those hatefull heads , that helpes to heape mishapp , Be flowe to heare the flatterers voyce , which creepeth in your lapp . Embrace their loue that wills you good , and sport not at their praise , Trust not too much vnto your selfe , for feeble are your staies : Howe can your seate be setled fast , or stand on stedfast ground , So propped vp with hollowe hartes , whose suertie is vnsound . Geue faith to those that feare for loue , and not that loue for feare , Regard not them that force compels , to please you euery where : All this well waide and borne away , shall stablishe long your state , Continually with perfect peace , in spite of puffing hate . Finis . D. S.
26. His good name being blemished , he bewayleth . FRaud is the front of Fortune past all recouerie , I stayles stand , to abide the shocke of shame and infamie . My life through lingring long is lodge , in lare of lothsome wayes , My death delaide to keepe from life , the harme of haplesse dayes : My sprites , my hart , my witte and force , in deepe distresse are dround , The only losse of my good name , is of these greefes the ground . And since my mind , my wit , my head , my voyce , and tongue are weake To vtter , mooue , deuise , conceiue , sound foorth , declare , and speake : Such pearsing plaintes , as answeare might , or would my wofull case , Helpe , craue I must , and craue I wyll , with teares vpon my face : Of al that may in heauen or hell , in earth or ayre be found , To wayle with me this losse of mine , as of these greefes the ground . Helpe gods , helpe saintes , helpe sprites & powers , that in the heauen doo dwel , Helpe ye that are to wayle aye woont , ye howling hounds of hel : Helpe man , helpe beasts , helpe birds , & wormes , that on the earth doth toile Helpe fishe , helpe foule , that flocks and feedes vpon the salt sea soyle : Helpe eccho that in ayre dooth flee , shryl voyces to resound , To wayle this losse of my good name , as of these greefes the ground . Finis . E. O.
27. Of Fortunes power . POlicrates whose passing happe , causd him to lose his fate , A golden ryng cast in the seas , to change his constant state , And in a fishe yet at his bourd , the fame he after found , Thus Fortune loe , to whom she takes , for bountie dooth abound . The myzers vnto might she mountes , a common case we see , And mightie in great miserie , she sets in lowe degree : Whom she to day dooth reare on hie , vpon her whitling wheele , To morowe next shedingeth downe , and casteth at her heele . No measure hath shee in her gifts , shee doth reward eache sort . The wise that counsell haue , no more then fooles that maketh sport . Shee vseth neuer partiall handes for to offend or please , Geue me good Fortune all men sayes , and throw me in the seas . It is no fault or worthines , that makes men fall or rise , I rather be borne Fortunate , then to be very wise . The blindest man right soone , that by good Fortune guided is , To whome that pleasant Fortune pipes , can neuer daunce amis . Finis . M. Edwardes .
28. Though Triumph after bloudy warres , the greatest brags do beare : Yet Triumph of a conquered minde , the crowne of Fame shall weare . WHo so doth marke the carelesse life , of these vnhappie dayes , And sees what small and slender hold , the state of vertue stayes : He findes that this accursed trade , proceedeth of this ill , That men be giuen , too much to yeelde to their vntamed will . In lacke of taming witlesse wil , the poore we often see Enuies the ritch , because that he , his equall cannot bee : The rich aduauned to might by wealth , from wrong doth not refraine , But will oppresseth weaker sort , to heape excessiue gaine . If Fortune were so blinde , to geue to one man what he will , A world would not suffise the same , if he might haue his fill : We wish , we searche , we striue for all , and haue no more therin Then hath the slaue , when death doth come , though Cresus welth we win . In getting much , we get but care , such brittle wealth to keepe , The rich within his walles of stone doth neuer soundly sleepe : When poore in weake and slender house , doe feare no losse of wealth , And haue no further care but this , to keepe them selues in health . Affection may not hide the sword of sway , in iudgement seat , Least partiall law doe execute the lawe in causes great : But if the minde in constant state , affection quite doe leaue , The higher state shall haue their rights , the poore no wrong receaue . It is accompted greater praise to Ceasars loftie state , Against his vanquist foes , in warres to bridle wrekefull hate : Then when to Rome he had subdued , the people long vnknowne , Wherby as farre as land was found , the same abrode was ●lowne . If honor can selfe will refuse , and iustice be vpright , And priuate state desires but that which good appeares in sight : Then vertue shall with soueraigne show , to euery eye reueale A heauenly life , a wealefull state , a happie common weale . Let vertue then the Triumph win , and gouerne all your deedes , Your yeelding to er sober heastes , immortall glory breede : Shee shall vpreare your worthy name , shew then vnto the skies , Her beames shall shine in graue obscure , where shrined carkesse l●es , Finis . M. Edwardes .
29 Of perfect wisedome . WHo so will be accompted wise , and truely claime the same , By ioyning vertue to his deedes , he must atchieue the same : But fewe there be , that seeke thereby true wisedome to attaine , O God , so rule our hearts therefore , such fondnesse to refraine . The wisedome which we moste esteeme , in this thing doth consist , With glorious talke to shew in wordes our wisedome when we list . Yet not in talke , but seemely deedes , our wisedome we should place , To speake so faire , and doe but ill , doth wisedome quite disgrace . To bargaine well , and shunne the losse , a wisedome counted is , And thereby through the greedie coyne no hope of grace to mis. To seeke by honoure to aduaunce his name to brittle praise , Is wisedome , which we da●ly see , increaseth in our dayes . But heauenly wisedome sower seemes to hard for them to win , And weary of the sute they seeme , when they doe once begin : It teacheth vs to frame our life , while vitall breth we haue , When it dissolueth earthly masse , the soule from death to saue . By feare of God to rule our steppes , from sliding into vice , A wisedome is , which we neglect , although of greater price : A poynt of wisedome also this , we commonly esteeme , That euery man should be in deede , that he desires to seeme . To bridle that desire of gaine , which forceth vs to ill , Our hawtie stomackes Lord represse , to tame presuming will : This is the wisedome that we should , aboue eache thing desire , O heauenly God from sacred throne , that grace in vs inspire . And print in our repugnant hearts , the rules of wisedome true , That all our deedes in worldly life , may like thereof insue : Thou onely art the liuing spring , from whome this wisedome flowes , O washe therewith our sinfull heartes , from vice that therin growes . Finis . M. Edwardes .
30 A frendly admonition . YE stately wightes , that liue in quiet rest Through worldly wealth , which God hath giuen to you . L●ment with teares and sighes from dolefull brest : The shame and power that vice obtaineth now . Behold how God doth daily profer grace , Yet we disdaine , repentance to embrace . The suddes of sinne doe sucke into the mind , And cancred vice doth vertue quite expell , No chaunge to good alasse can resting finde : Our wicked hearts so stoutly doe rebell . Not one there is that hasteth to amend , Though God from heauen his daily threates doe send . We are so slow to chaunge our blamefull life , We are so prest to snatche aluring vice : Such greedie hartes on euery side be rife . So few that guide their will by counsell wise , To set our teares lament the wretched case , And call to God for vndeserued grace . You worldly wightes , that haue your fancies sixt On slipper ioy of terreine pleasure here : Let some remorse in all your deedes be mixt . Whiles you haue time let some redresse appere . Of sodaine Death the houre you shall not know , And looke for Death atthough it seemeth slow . Oh be no iudge in other mens offence , But purge thy selfe and seeke to make thee free , Let euery one applie his diligence , A chaunge to good with in him selfe to see : O God direct our feete in such a stay , From cancred vice to shame the hatefull way . Finis . R. Hill.
31. Sundrie men , sundrie affectes . IN euery wight some sondrie sort of pleasure I doe finde , Which after he doth seeke to ease his toyling minde . Diana with her training chase , of hunting had delight , Against the fearefull Deare , shee could direct her shotte aright . The loftie yeares in euery age , doth still imbrace the ●ame , The sport is good , if vertue doe assist the chearefull game . Minerua in her chattering armes her courage doth aduaunce , In triall of the bloudie warres , shee giueth luckie chaunce . For sauegard men imbrace the same , which doe so needefull seeme , That noble heartes their cheefe delights in vse therof esteeme . In warlike games to ride or trie the force of armes they vse , And base the man we doe accompt , that doth the same refuse . The siluer sound of musickes cordes , doth please Apollos wit , A science which the heauens aduaunce , where it deserues to sit . A pleasure apt for euery wight , releefe to carefull minde , For woe redresse , for care a salue , for sadnesse helpe we finde . The soueraigne praise of Musicke still , doth cause the Poetes faine , That whliring Spheres , and eke the heauens , do hecmonie retaine . I heard that these three powers , at variaunce lately fell , Whiles eache did praise his owne delight , the other to excell . Then Fame , as one indifferent iudge , to ende the case they call , The praise pronounced by her to them , indifferently doth fall . Diana health and strength maintaine , Minerua force doth tame , And Musicke geues sweete delight , to further other game . These three delightes to hawtie mindes , the worthiest are estemed , If vertue be anexed to them , they rightly be so demed . With ioy they doe releeue the witte with sorrow oft opprest , And neuer suffer solempne greefe too long in minde to rest . Be wise in mirth , and seeke delight , the same doe not abuse , In honest mirth , a happie ioy we ought not to refuse . Finis . R. Hill.
32. Time giues experience . WE reade what paines the powers deuine , Through wrath conceiued by some offence , To mortall creatures they assigne Their due desartes for recompence . What endlesse paine they must endure , Which their offences did procure . A Gripe doth Titius Liuer teare His greedie hungrie gorge to fill , And Sisiphus must euer beare The rowling stone against the hill . A number moe in hell be found , Which thus to endlesse paine are bound . Yet all the woe that they sustaine , Is nothing to the paine of me , Which cometh through the proude disdaine Of one , that doth to loue repine : Therefore I crie woe worth the houre , Since first I fell in Venus power . The gnawing gripes of irksome thought , Consumes my heart with Titius griefe : I also haue full vainly wrought , With Sisiphus without reliefe . Euen when I hope to ende my paine , I must renue my sute againe . Yet will I not seeme so vntrue , To leaue a thing so late begone : A better happe may yet insue , The strongest towres in time be wonne . In time therefore , my trust I place , Who must procure desired grace . Finis . R. H.
33 Of sufferance cometh ease . TO seeme for to reuenge eache wrong in hastie wise , By proofe we see of guiltlesse men , it hath not bene th● guise . In slaunders lothsome brute , where they condemned bee , With ragelesse moode they suffer wrong , where truth shal trie them free . These are the patient panges , that passe within the brest Of those , that feele their cause by mine , where wrong hath right opprest . I know how by suspect , I haue bene iudgd awrie , And graunted g●ltie in the thing , that cleerely I denie : My faith may me defend , if I might loued be , God iudge me so , as from the guilt I know me to be free . I wrote but for my selfe , the griefe was all mine owne , As , who would proue excremitie , by proofe it might be knowne . Yet are there suche , that say , they can my meaning deeme , Without respect of this olde trothe , things proue not as they seeme , Whereby it may befall , in iudgement to be quicke , To make them selues suspect therewith , that needed not to kicke . Yet in resisting wrong , I would not haue it thought I do amisse , as though I knew by whome it might be wrought . If any suche there be , that heerewithall be vext , It were their vertue to beware , and deeme me better next . Finis . E. S.
34 Being trapped in Loue be complayneth . THe hidden wees that swelleth in my hart , Brings forth suche sighes , as filles the aire with smoke : T●e golden beames , thorow this his fierie dart , D●re not abide , the answere of the stroke . Which stroke , although it dazed me some dele , Yet nature taught my hand to worke his kinde , Wherewith I taught to pull away the stele , But to my paine , it left my head behinde , That fastned hath my heart so neare the pith , Except suche s●lue , as when the Scorpion stinges , I might rece●ue to heale my wounde therewith : In vaine for ease , my tongue alwayes it ringes . And I for paines , shall pearish through her guilt , That can reioyce , to see how I am spilt . Finis . E. S.
35 Though Fortune haue sette thee on hie , Remember yet that thou shalt die . TO die , Dame nature did man frame , Death is a thing most perfect sure : We ought not natures workes to blame , Shee made nothing , still to endure . That lawe shee made , when we were borne , That hence we should retourne againe : To render right , we must not scorne , Death is due debt , it is no paine . The ciuill lawe , doth bidde restore That thou hast taken vp of trust : Thy life is lent , thou must therfore Rep●y , except thou be vniust . This life is like a poynted race , To the ende wherof when man hath trode , He must returne to former place , He may not still remaine abrode . Death hath in all the earth aright , His power is great , it stretcheth farre : No Lord , no Prince , can scape his might , No creature can his duetie barre . The wise , the iust , the strong , the hie , The chast , the meeke , the free of hart , The rich , the poore , who can denie , Haue yeelded all vnto his dart . Could Hercules that tamde eache wight ? Or else Vlisses with his witte ? Or Ianus who had all foresight ? Or chast Hypolit scape the pitte ? Could Cresus with his bagges of golde ? Or Irus with his hungrie paine ? Or Signus through his hardinesse bolde ? Driue backe the dayes of Death againe . Seeing no man then can Death escape , Nor hire him hence for any gaine : We ought not feare his carraine shape , He onely brings euell men to paine . If thou haue ledde thy life aright , Death is the ende of miserie : If thou in God hast thy delight , Thou diest to liue eternallie . Eache wight therefore while he liues heere , Let him thinke on his dying day : In midst of wealth , in midst of cheere , Let him accompt he must away . This thought , makes man to God a frend , This thought doth banish pride and sinne : This thought doth bring a man in th end , Where he of Death the field shall win .
39 All thinges ar Vaine . ALthough the purple morning , bragges in brightnes of the sunne , As though he had of chased night , a glorious conquest wonne : The Time by day , giues place againe to forse of drowsie night , And euery creature is constraind , to chaunge his lustie plight . Of pleasures all , that heere we taste : We feele the contrary at laste . In spring , though pleasant Zephirus , hath frutefull earth inspired , And nature hath each bushe , each branch , with blossomes braue attired : Yet fruites and flowers , as buds and blomes , full quickly witherd be , When stormie Winter comes to kill , the Somers iolitie . By Time are gotte , by Time are lost All things , wherein we pleasure most . Although the Seas so calmely glide , as daungers none appeare , And dout of stormes , in skie is none , king Phebus shines so cleare : Yet when the boistrous windes breake out , and raging waues do swel , The seely barke now heaues to heauen , now sinkes againe to hel . Thus chaunge in euery thing we see , And nothing constant , seemes to bee . Who floweth most in worldly wealth , of wealth is most vnsure , And he that cheefely tastes of ioy , doth sometime woe indure : Who vaunteth most of numbred frends , forgoe them all he must , The fairest flesh and liuelest bioud , is turnd at length to dust . Experience geues a certaine grounde , That certen heere , is nothing founde . Then trust to that which aye remaines , the blisse of heauens aboue , Which Time , nor Fate , nor Winde , nor Storme , is able to remoue : Trust to that sure celestiall rocke , that restes in glorious throne , That hath bene , is , and must be still , our anker holde alone . The world is but a vanitie , In heauen seeke we our suretie . Finis . F. K.
37 A vertuous Gentle woman in the praise of his Loue . I Am a Virgine faire and free , and freely doe reioyce , I sweetely warble sugred notes , from siluer voyce : For which delightfull ioyes , yet thanke I curtesie loue , By whose allmightie power , such sweete delites I proue , I walke the pleasant fieldes , adornd with liuely greene , And view the fragrant flowres , most louely to be seene : The purple Columbine , the Cousloppe and the Lillie , The Violet sweete , the Daizie and Daffadillie . The Woodbines on the hedge , the red Rose and the white , And cache fine flowres else , that rendreth sweete delite : Among the which I choose , all those of seemeliest grace , In thought , resembling them to my deare louers face . His louely face I meane , whose golden flouring giftes , His euer liuing Fame , to loftie skie vpliftes : Whom louing me I loue , onely for vertues sake , When vertuously to loue , all onely care I take . Of all which freshe faire flowers , that flowre that doth appeare In my conceit most like to him I holde so deare . I gather it , I kisse it , and eake deuise with it , Suche kinde of liuely speeche , as is for louers fit . And then of all my flowres , I make a garland fine , With which my golden wyer heares , together I doe twine : And sette it on my head , so taking that delight , That I would take , had I my louer still in sight . For as in goodly flowres , myne eyes great pleasure finde , So are my louers gyftss , most pleasant to my minde : Vpon which vertuous gyftes , I make more sweete repast , Then they that for loue sportes , the sweetest ioyes doo tast . Finis . M. K.
38. Oppressed with sorowe , he wysheth death . IF Fortune may enforce , the carefull hart to cry , And griping greefe constrayne , the wounded wight lament : Who then alas to mourne , hath greater cause then I , Agaynst whose hard mish●p , both Heauen and Earth are bent . For whom no helpe remaynes , for whom no hope is left : From whom all happy happes is fled , and pleasure quite bereft . Whose lyfe nought can prolong , whose health nought can assure : Whose death , oh pleasant port of peace , no creature can procure . Whose passed proofe of pleasant ioy , Mischaunce hath chaunged , to greefes anoy : And loe , whose hope of better day , Is ouerwhelmd with long delay . Oh hard mishap . Eache thing I plainely see , whose vertues may auayle , To ease the pinching payne , which gripes the groning wyght : By Phisickes sacred skill , whose rule dooth seldome fayle , Through labours long inspect , is playnely brought to lyght . I knowe , there is no fruite , no leafe , no roote , no rynde , No hearbe , no plant , no iuyce , no gumme , no mettal deepely mind : No Pearle , no Precious stone , ne Ieme of rare effect , Whose vertues , learned Gallens bookes , at lardge doo not detect . Yet all theyr force can not appease , The furious fyttes of my disease , Nor any drugge of Phisickes art , Can ease the greefe , that gripes my hart . Oh straunge disease . I heare the wyse affyrme , that Nature hath in store , A thousand secrete salues , which Wysdome hath outfound : To coole the scorching heate of euery smarting sore : And healeth deepest scarre , though greeuous be the wound . The auncient prouerbe sayes , that none so festred greefe , Dooth grow , for which the gods them selues , haue not ordeynd releefe . But I by proofe doo knowe , such prouerbes to be vayne , And thinke that Nature neuer knewe , the plague which I sustayne . And so not knowyng my distresse , Hath leaft my greefe remedilesse , For why , the heauens for me prepare , To liue in thought , and dye in care . Oh lastyng payne . By chaunge of ayre I see , by haute of healthfull soyle , By dyet duely kept , grose humours are expeld : I know that greefes of minde , and inward heartes turmoile , By faithfull frendes aduise , in time may be repeld . Yet all this nought auailes , to kill that me anoyes , I meane to stoppe these floudes of care , that ouerflow my ioyes . No none exchaunge of place , can chaunge my lucklesse lot , Like one I liue , and so must die , whome Fortune hath forgoe . No counsell can preuaile with mee , Nor sage aduise with greefe agree : For he that feeles the paines of hell , Can neuer hope in heauen to dwell . Oh deepe despaire . What liues on earth but I , whose trauaile reapes no gaine , The wearyed Horse and Oxe , in stall and stable rest : The Ante with sommers toyle , beares out the winters paine , The Fowle that flies all day , at night retournes to rest . The Ploughmans weary worke , amid the winters mire , Rewarded is with somers gaine , which yeeldes him double hire : The sillye laboring soule , which drudges from day to day , At night , his wages truely paide , contented goth his way . And comming home , his drowsie hed He cowcheth close in homely bed : Wherein no sooner downe he lies , But sleepe hath straight possest his eyes . Oh happie man . The Souldier biding long , the brunt of mortall warres , Where life is neuer free , from dint of deadly foyle : At last comes ioyfull home , though mangled all with scarres , Where frankly , voyde of feare , he spendes the gotten spoyle . The Pirate lying long , amidde the fooming floodes , With euery flawe in hazard is , to loose both life and goodes . At length findes view of land , where wished Porte he spies , Which once obtained , among his mates , he partes the gotten prise . Thus euery man , for trauaile past , Doth reape a iust reward at last : But I alone , whose troubled minde , In seeking rest , vnrest doth finde . Oh lucklesse lotte . Oh curssed caitife wretche , whose heauie harde mishappe , Doth wish tenne thousande times , that thou hadst not bene borne : Since fate hathe thee condemned , to liue in sorrowes lappe . Where waylinges waste thy life , of all redresse forlorne . What shall thy griefe appease ? who shall thy torment stay ? Wilt thou thy selfe , with murthering handes , enforce thy owne decay ? No , farre be thou from me , my selfe to stoppe my breath , The gods forbid , whom I beseeche , to worke my ioyes by death . For lingering length of lothed life , Doth stirre in mee such mortall strife : That whiles for life and death I crie , In Death I liue , and liuing die . Oh froward fate . Loe heere my hard mishappe , loe heere my straunge disease , Loe heere my deepe despaire , loe heere my lasting paine : Loe heere my froward fate , which nothing can appease . Loe heere how others toyle , rewarded is with gaine . While luckelesse , loe , I liue in losse of laboures due , Compeld by proofe of torment strong , my endlesse greefe to rue . In which , since needes I must , consume both youth and age If olde I liue , and that my care no comfort can asswage . Henceforth I banishe from my brest , All frustrate hope of future rest , And truthlesse trust to times reward , With all respectes of ioyes regard , Here I forsweare .
39 Where reason makes request , there wisedome ought supplie , With friendly answere prest , to graunt or else denie . I Sigh ? why so ? for sorrowe of her smart . I morne ? wherfore ? for greefe that shee complaines . I pitie ? what ? her ouerpressed hart . I dread ? what harme ? the daunger shee sustaines , I greeue ? where at ? at her oppressing paines . I feele ? what forse ? the fittes of her disease , Whose harme doth me and her , alike displease . I hope , what happe ? her happy healthes retyre , I wishe , what wealth ? no wealth , nor worldly store But craue , what craft ? by cunnyng to aspyre Some skyll , whereto ? to salue her sickly sore . What then ? why then would I her health restore , Whose harme me hurtes , howe so ? so woorkes my wyll To wyshe my selfe and her , lyke good and yll . What moues the mind , whereto ? to such desyre Ne force , ne fauour , what then ? free fancies choyse : Art thou to choose ? my charter to require Eache Ladyes loue is fred by customes voyce , Yet are there grauntes , the euidence of theyr choyse . What then , our freedome is at lardge in choosyng , As womens willes are froward in refusing . Wotes she thy wyll ? she knowes what I protest , Daynde she thy sute ? she daungerd not my talke : Gaue she consent ? she graunted my request , What dydst thou craue ? the roote , the fruite , or stalke , I asked them all , what gaue she , Cheese , or chalke ? That taste must try , what taste ? I meane the proofe Of freendes , whose wyls withhold her bowe aloofe . Meanst thou good fayth ? what els , hopest thou to speede ? Why not , O foole vntaught in carpet trade , Knowest not what proofes from such delayes proceede , Wylt thou like headles Cocke be caught in glade ? Art thou like Asse , too apt for burden made ? Fy , fy , wyl thou for saint adore the shrine ? And woo her freend , eare she be wholy thine ? Who drawes this drift ? moued she , or thou this match ? T was I : oh foole , vnware of womens wyles , Long mayst thou wayte , like hungry houndes at hatche , She crafty Foxe , the seely Goose beguiles . Thy sute is shaped so fyt for long delay , That shee at wyll may chek , from yea to nay , But in good soothe , tell me her frendes intent : Best learne it first , their purpose I not knowe , Why then thy will to woorse and worse is bent , Dost thou delight , the vnkindled cole to blowe ? Or childelike louest , in anckred bote to rowe , What meane these termes ? who sith thy sute is such , Know of or on , or thou afect to much . No haste but good , why no , the meane is best , Admit shee loue , mislike in lingring growes : Suppose shee is caught , then Woodcocke on thy crest , Till end approues , what skornefull sedes shee sowes . In loytring loue , such dangers ebbes and flowes , What helpe herein ? why wake in dangerous watch , That too , nor fro , may make thee marre the match : Is that the way to ende my wery woorke ? By quicke dispatch , to lesson long turmoyle , Well well , though losse in lingering wontes to lurke , And I a foole , most fitte to take the foyle : Yet proofe from promise , neuer shall recoyle . My woordes with deedes , and deedes with woordes shal wend , Tyll shee , or hers , gayuesay that I entend . Art thou so fond ? not fond , but firmely fast , Why foole , her freendes wote how thy wyl is bent : Yet thou lyke doult , whose witte and sense is past , Sest not what frumpes , doo folowe thy entent . Ne knowe , how loue in lewe of skorne is lent , Adewe , for sightes such folly should preuent . Well well , their skoffes with scornes might be repaid , If my requestes were fully yead or nayd . Well , well , let these with wisedomes passe be waide , And in your chest of cheefest secreates laide . What is , or may be mine , That is , and shall be thine : Till death the twist vntwine , That doth our loues combine . But if thy heart repine , Thy body should be mine . Shew me thereof some sine , That I may slacke the line , That knitts thy will to mine . Finis . My Lucke is losse .
40 Donec eris Felix multos numerabis amicos . Nullus ad amissus ibit amicus opes . EVen as the Rauen , the Crowe , and greedie Rite Doe swarming flocke , where carren corpes doth fall : And tiring teare with beake and talentes might , Both skin and fleshe to gorge their guttes withall . And neuer cease , but gather moe to moe , Doe all to pull the carkase too and froe , Till bared bones at last they leaue behinde , And seeke elsewhere , some fatter foode to finde . Euen so I see , where wealth doth waxe at will , And Golde doth growe to heapes of great encrease : There frendes resort , and profering frendship still , Full thicke they throng , with neuer ceasing prease . And stilie make a shew of true intent , When nought but guile , and inwarde hate is ment : For when mischaunce shall chaunge such wealth to want , They packe them thence , to place of ritcher haunt . Finis . My Lucke is losse .
41. What ioye to a contented mynde . THe faithe that failes , must nedes be thought vntrue , The frende that faines , who holdeth not vniust , Who likes that loue , that chaungeth still for newe : Who hopes for truthe , where trothe is voide of trust , No faithe , no frende , no loue , no trothe so sure , But rather failes then stedfastly endure . What head so staied ? that altereth not intent , What thought so sure ? that stedfast doeth remaine , What witte so wise ? that neuer nedes repent : What tonge so true ? but sometyme wonts to faine , What foote so firme ? that neuer treads awrie , What soner dimde ? then fight of clerest eye . What harte so fixt ? but some enclines to change , What moode so milde ? that neuer moued debate : What faithe so strong ? but lightly likes to range , What loue so true ? that neuer learnde to hate . What life so pure ? that lasts , without offence , What worldly mynde ? but moues with ill pretence . What knot so fast ? that maie not be vntide , What seale so sure ? but fraude or forse shall breke : What prop of staye ? but one tyme shrinks aside , What ship so stauche ? that neuer had a leke . What graunt so large ? that no exception maks , What hoped helpe ? but frende at nede forsaks . What seate so high ? but lowe to grounde maie fall , What hap so good ? that neuer founde mislike : What state so sure ? but subiect is to thrall What force preuailes ? where Fortune liste to strike . What wealth so muche ? but tyme maie turne to want , What store so greate ? but wastyng maketh skant . What profites hope in depth of dangers thrall , What ruste in tyme , but waxeth worse and worse : What helpes good harte , if Fortune froune withall , What blessyng thriues , gainst heauenly helples curse . What winnes desire , to get and can not gaine , What botes to wishe and neuer to obtaine . Finis . My lucke is losse .
42. Amantium irae amoris redintigratia est . IN goyng to my naked bedde , as one that would haue slept , I heard a wife syng to her child , that long before had wept : She sighed sore and sang full sore , to bryng the babe to rest , That would not rest but cried still , in suckyng at her brest . She was full wearie of her watche , and greued with her child , She rocked it and rated it , vntill on her it smilde : Then did she saie now haue I founde , the prouerbe true to proue , The fallyng out of faithfull frends , is the renuyng of loue . Then tooke I paper , penne and ynke , this prouerbe for to write , In regester for to remaine , of suche a worthie wight : As she proceded thus , in song vnto her little bratte , Muche matter vttered she of waight , in place whereas she satte . And proued plaine , there was no beast , nor creature bearyng life , Could well be knowne to liue in loue , without discorde and strife : Then kissed she her little babe , and sware by God aboue , The fallyng out of faithfull frends , is the renuyng of loue . She saied that neither kyng ne prince , ne lorde could liue aright , Vntill their puissance thei did proue , their manhode & their might When manhode shal be matched so , that feare can take no place , Then wearie works makes warriours , eche other to embrace . And leaue their forse that failed them , whiche did consume the rout , That might before haue liued their tyme , and nature out : Then did she syng as one that thought , no man could her reproue , The fallyng out of faithfull frendes , is the renuyng of loue . She saied she sawe no fishe ne foule , nor beast within her haunt , That mete a straunger in their kinde , but could geue it a taunt : Since fleshe might not indure , but reste must wrathe succede , And forse the fight to fall to plaie , in pasture where thei feede . So noble nature can well ende , the works she hath begone , And bridle well that will not cease , her tragedy in some : Thus in her songe she oft reherst , as did her well behoue , The fallyng out of faithfull frends , is the renuyng of loue . I meruaile muche pardy quoth she , for to beholde the route , To see man , woman , boy & beast to tosse the worlde about : Some knele , some crouch , some beck , some check , & some can smothly smile And some embrace others in armes , and there thinke many a wile . Some stande aloufe at cap and knee , some humble and some stout , Yet are thei neuer frends indeede , vntill thei once fall out : Thus ended she her song , and saied before she did remoue , The fallyng out of faithfull frends , is the renuyng of loue . M. Edwardes .
43. Thinke to dye . THe life is long , whiche lothsomely doeth laste , The dolfull daies drawe slowly to their date : The present panges , and painfull plags forepast , Yelds greffe aye grene , to stablishe this estate . So that I feele in this greate storme and strife , That death is sweete , that shorteneth suche a life . And by the stroke of this straunge ouerthrowe , All whiche conflict in thraldome I was thrust : The Lorde be praised , I am well taught to knowe , From whens man came , and eke whereto he must . And by the waie , vpon how feble force , His terme doeth stande , till death doeth ende his course . The pleasant yeres that semes so swetely ronne , The mery daies to ende , so fast that flete : The ioyfull wights , of whiche daies dawes so sone , The happie howrs , whiche mo doe misse then mete . Doe all consume as snowe against the Sonne , And death maks ende of all that life begonne . Since death shall dure till all the worlde be wast , What meaneth man , to dread death then so sore ? As man might make , that life should alwaie last , Without regard , the Lorde hath ledde before . The daunce of death , whiche all must runne on rowe , The hower wherein onely hymself doeth knowe . If man would mynde , what burdeins life doeth bryng , What greuous crimes to God , he doeth commit : What plagues , what panges , what perill thereby spryng , With no sure hower in all his daies to sit . He would sure thinke and with greate cause I doo , The daie of death is happier of the twoo . Death is the doore whereby we drawe to ioye , Life is a lake , that drowneth all in paine : Death is so dole it seaseth all awaie , Life is so leude that all it yelds is vaine . And as by life , in bondage man is brought . Euen so by death is freedome likewise wrought . Wherefore with Paule , let all men wishe and praie , To be disolued of this foule fleshly masse : Or at the least be armed against the daie , That thei be founde good souldiers prest to passe . From life to death , from death to life againe , And suche a life as euer shall remaine . Finis . D. S.
44. Beyng asked the occasion of his white head , he aunswereth thus . WHere sethyng sighes and sower sobbs , Hath slaine the slipps that nature sett : And skaldyng showers with stonie throbbs , The kindly sappe from them hath fett . What wonder then though you doe see , Vpon my head white heeres to bee . Where thought hath thrild and throne his speares , To hurt the harte that harmth hym not : And gronyng grief hath grounde for the teares , Myne eyne , to staine my face to spot . What wonder then though you doe see , Vpon my head white heeres to bee . Where pinchyng paine hym self hath plaste , There peace with pleasures were possest : And walles of wealth are fallen to waste , And pouertie in them is prest . What wonder then , though you doe see , Vpon my head white heeres to bee . Where wretched woe doeth weaue her webbe , There care the clewe , can catche and caste : And floudds of ioye are fallen to ebbe So loe , that life maie not long laste . What wonder then , though you doe see , Vpon my head white heeres to bee . These heeres of age are messengers , Whiche bidd me , fast repent and praie : Thei be of death the harbingers , That doeth prepare , and dresse the waie . Wherefore I ioye , that you maie see , Vpon my head suche heeres to bee . Thei be the line that lead the length , How farre my race was for to ronne : Thei saie my yongth is fledde with strength , And how old age , is well begonne . The whiche I feele , and you maie see , Vpon my head suche lines to bee . Thei be the stryngs of sober sounde , Whose Musicke is hermonicall : Their tunes declare , a tyme from grounde I came , and how thereto I shall . Wherefore I ioye that you maie see , Vpon my head suche stryngs to bee . God graunt to those that white heeres haue , No worse them take , then I haue ment : That after thei be laied in graue , Their soules maie ioye their liues well spent , God graunt likewise that you maie see , Vpon my head suche heeres to bee . Finis . L. V.
I Would to God I were Acteon , that Diana did disguise , To walke the Forest vp and doune , whereas my ladie lies : An Harte of heere and hewe , I wishe that I were so , So that my Ladie knewe me , onely and no mo . The shalyng Nutts and Maste , that falleth from the tree , Should well suffice for my repast , might I my ladie see : It should not greue me , there in frost , to lye vpon the grounde , Delite should easly quite the coste , what euill so that I founde . Sometyme that I might saie , when I sawe her alone , Beholde , see yonder slaue aldaie , that walketh the woodds alone , Finis . M.B.
WHy should I lenger long to liue , In this desease of fantasie , Sins fortune doeth not cease to giue , Things to my mynde moste contrarie . And at my ioyes doeth lowre and froune , Till she hath tourned them vpsidoune . Affrende I had to me moste dere , And of long tyme faithfull and iuste : There was no one , my harte so nere , Nor one in whom I had more truste . Whom now of late without cause why , Fortune hath made my enemie . The grasse me thinks should growe in skie The starres , vnto the yearth cleaue faste : The water streame should passe awrie , The winds should leue their strengt of blast . The Sonne and Moone by one assent , Should bothe forsake the firmament . The fishe in ayer should flie with sinne , The foules in floud should bryng forth fry All thyngs me thinks should erst beginne , To take their course vnnaturally . Afore my frende should alter so , Without a cause to bee my foe . But suche is Fortunes hate I saie , Suche is her will on me to wreake : Suche spite she hath at me alwaie , And ceasseth not my harte to breake . With suche dispite of crueltie , Wherefore then longer liue should I. Finis . E. S.
47. Prudens . The historie of Damacles , & Dionise . WHoso is set in princly trone , and craueth rule to beare , Is still beset on euery side , with perill and with feare . High trees by stormie winds are shakt , & rent vp from the ground and flashy flaks of lightnings flames on turrets do roboūd When little shrubs in sauetie lurke , in couert all alowe , And freshly florishe in their kynde , what euer winde doe blowe . The cruell kyng of Scisily who fearyng Barbars hands , Was wont to singe his beard hym self , with cole and fire brands . Hath taught vs this , the proofe whereof , fu●l plainly we maye see . Was neuer thyng more liuely touched to shewe it so to bee . This kyng did seme to Damacles , to be the happiest wight , Because he thought none like to hym , in power or in might . Who did alone so farre excell the rest in his degree , As doeth the Sunne in brightnes cleare , the darkest starre we see . Wilt thou ( then said this cruell kyng ) proue this my present state Possesse thou shalt this seate of myne , and so be fortunate . Full gladly then this Damacles , this proferd honour tooke , And shootyng at a princely life , his quiet rest forsooke . In honours seate then was he plast , accordyng to his will , Forthwith a banquet was preparde , that he might feast his fill . Nothyng did want wherein t was thought , that he would take delite , To feede his eye , to fill his mouthe , or please the appetite . Suche store of plate , I thinke in Grece , there scarsly was so much His seruitours did Angels seme , their passyng shape was suche . No daintie dishe but there it was , and thereof was suche store , That throughout Grece so princly chere , was neuer seen before . Thus while in pompe and pleasures seate , this Damacles was plast , And did beginne with gladsome harte , eche daintie dishe to taste . At length by chaunce cast vp his eyes , and gan the house to vewe , And sawe a sight that hym enforst , his princly state to rewe . A sworde forsoth with dounward point , that had no stronger thred Then one horse heere that peised it , direct vpon his head . Wherewith he was so sore amasde , and shooke in euery parte , As though the sworde that hong aboue , had stroke hym to the hart Then all their pleasures toke their leaue , & sorowe came in place , His heauie harte the teares declared , that trickled doune his face . And then forthwith with sobbing voice , besought the king of grace , That he would licens hym with speede , to depart out of that place . And saied that he full long enough , had tried now with feare , What t is to be a happie man , and princly rule to beare . This deede of thyne oh Dionise , deserues immortall fame , This deede shall alwaies liue with praise , though thou didst liue with shame . Whereby bothe kyngs be put in minde , their dangers to be great And subiects be forbid to clime , high stepps of honours seate . Finis .
48. Fortitude . A yong man of Aegipt , and Valerian . EChe one deserues great praise to haue , but yet not like I think , Bothe he that can sustain the yoke of paines , & doeth not shrink And he whom Cupids couert crafte , can nothyng moue at all , Into the harde and tangled knotts , of Venus snares to fall . Besturre you then who so delights , in vertues race to ronne , The fliyng boye with bowe ibent , by strength to ouercome . As one did once when he was yong , and in his tender daies , Whose stout and noble deede of his , hath got immortall praise . The wicked Romaines did pursue , the sely Christians than , What tyme Valerian Emperour was , a wicked cruell man . Who spared not with bloudy draughts , to quenche his owne desire Dispatchyng all that stucke to Christ , with hotte consumyng fire . At length a man , of tender yeres , was brought before his sight , Suche one as Nature semed to make , a witnesse of her might . For euery parte so well was set , that nothyng was depraued , So that the cruell kyng hym self , would gladly haue hym saued . So loth he was to see a woorke , so rare of Naturs power , So finely built so sodainly , destroied within an hower . Then meanes he sought to ouercome , or winne hym at the lest , To slip from Christe , whom he before had earnestly profest . A bedde preparde , so finely deckt , suche diuers pleasaunt smels , That well it might appeare a place , where pleasure onely dwells . By hym he laied a naked wenche , a Venus darlyng sure , With sugred speache & louely toyes , that might his minde allure . Such wanton lewres as these he thought , might eassy him entise , Which things he knewe with lustie youth , had alwaies been in prise . Suche waies I thinke the Gods themselues , could haue inuented none , For flatteryng Venus ouercoms , the senses euery chone , And he hym self was euen at point , to Venus to consent , Had not his stout and manly mynde , resisted his entent . When he perceiued his fleshe to yelde , to pleasures wanton toyes , And was by sleight almoste prouoked , to tast of Venus ioyes . More cruell to hym self then those , that glad would hym vndoo , With bloudie tooth his tender tong , bote quite and cleane in twoo . Thus was the paine so passyng greate , of this his bloudie bitte , That all the fire and carnall lust , was quenched euery whitte . Doe ill and all thy pleasures then , full sone will passe awaie , But yet the shame of those thy deedes , will neuermore decaie . Do well & though thy paines be great , yet sone eche one wil cease , But yet , the praise of those thy deedes will euermore increase . Finis .
49. Iustice . Zaleuch and his Sonne . LEt rulers make most perfect lawes , to rule both great & smal If thei them selues obeye them not , it boteth not at all . As lawes be nought but rulers dome , conteining egall might , So rulers should be speakyng lawes , to rule by line of right . Zaleuch the Prince of Locrine once , appointed by decree , Eche lecherer should be punished , with losse of either eye . His sonne by chaunce offended first , whiche when his father sawe , Lorde God how earnest then was he , to execute the lawe . Then ran the people all by flocks , to hym with wepyng eyes , Not one emong the rout there was , but pardon , pardon cries . By whose outcries and earnest sute , his sonne in hope did stande , That he thereby should then obtaine , some pardon at his hande . But all in vaine for he is founde , to be the man he was . And maketh hast so muche the more , to haue the lawe to passe . The people yet renued their sute , in hope of some relief , Whose faces all besprent with teares , did testifie their grief . And cried all for pities sake , yelde now to our request , If all you will not cleane remit , yet ease the paine at lest . Then somewhat was the father moued , with all the peoples voice And euery man did giue a shoote , to shewe thei did reioyce . Well then quoth he it shal be thus , the lawe shal be fufilde . And yet my sonne shall fauour haue , accordyng as you wilde . One eye of his shal be pulde out , thus hath his leudnesse got , And likewise so shall one of myne , though I deserue it not . This worde no soner was pronouncde , but strait the deede was doen , Twoo eyes , no mo were left , betwene the father and the sonne . Saie now who can , and on my faithe Apollo he shal be , Was he more gentle father now ? or iuster Iudge trowe ye . This man would not his lawes belike , the webbs the spiders weue , Wherein thei lurke when thei entende , the simple to deceiue . Wherewith small flies full sone be caught , & tangled ere thei wist , When greate ones flie and scape awaie , & breake them as thei list . Finis .
50. Temperaunce . Spurina and the Romaine Ladies . IF nature beare thee so great loue , the she in thee haue beautie plast Full harde it is as we doe proue , to kepe the body cleane & chast : Twixt comelinesse and chastitie , A deadly strife is thought to be . For beautie whiche some men suppose to be , as t were a golden ill , Prouoketh strief and many foes , that seke on her to worke her wil Assaults to tounes if many make , No toune so strong but maie be take . And this Spurina witnesse can , who did for beautie beare the bell , So cleane a wight so comly made , no dame in Rome but loued wel Not one could cole her hote desire , So burnyng was the flame of fire . Like as when baite caste in the floud , forthwith doeth cause the fishes come , That pleasantly before did plaie , now presently to death to runne . For when thei see the baite to fall , Straight waie thei swallowe hooke and all . So when Spurina thei did see , to hym thei flocked out of hande , She happest dame was thought to be , that in his fauour moste did stande . Not knowyng vnder sweete deceits , How Venus hids her poysoned baits . But when he sawe them thus to rage , whom loue had linked in his chain , This means he sought for to aswage , these ladies of their greuous pain . His shape intendyng to disgrace , With many wounds he skotch his face . By whiche his deede it came to passe , that he that semed an angel bright Euen now so cleane disfigured was , that he became a sothsom wight . And rather had be foule and chast , Then faire , and filthie ioyes to tast . What pen can write , or tong expresse , the worthy praises of this deede , My think that God can do no lesse , then graunt him heauen for his meede . Who for to saue hym self vpright , Hym self hath first destroyed quite . Finis qd F. M.
51. Abunche of herbes and flowers . IF that eche flower , the godds haue framed , are shapt by sacred skill Were as I would ( no wrong to wishe ) & myne to weare at will . Or els eche tree , with lustie top , would lende me leaue to loue , With spriggs displaied to spread my sute , a wailing hart to proue Vpon my helme sone should you see , my hedde aduaunced hie , Some slipp for solace there to sett , and weare the same would I. Yet would I not for greate delight , the Daises strange desire , The Lillie would not like my lust nor Rose would I require . The Marigould might growe for me , Rosemary well might reste , The Fenell to that is more fit , for some vnfrendly gest . Nor Cowslopps would I craue at all , sometymes thei seme to coy Some ioly youth the Gelliflower , estemeth for his ioye . The Lauender sometymes aloft , alures the lookers eyes , The Paunsie shall not haue the praise , where I may geue the prise And thus no flower my fansie feeds , as liketh so my luste , As that I maie subiect my self , to toyes of tickle truste . For flowers though thei be faire and fresh , of sent excelling swete Yet growe thei on the ground belowe , we tred them with our fete And shall I then goe stoupe to suche ? or els go seke to those , Shall flowers enforse me once to faune , for feare of frends or foes . Yet rather yelde I to the right , as reason hath assignde , Myne authour saied there was no salue , in flowers for me to finde . And yet perhapps some tree there is , to shroud me from the shower , That with her armes maie salue the soule , that yeldeth to her power . Where I maie finde some pleasant shade , to salue me from the sonne Eche thyng w● see that reason hath , vnto the trees doe runne . Bothe men & beasts suche soules as fly , the treasures are the trees And for my part when braunches fall , I wishe no other fees . But when that stormes beset me round , suche succor God me sende , That I maie finde a frendly tree , that will me well defende . No tree there is whiche yelds no good , to some that doe it seke And as thei are of diuers kynds , their vses are vnlike . The Eue tree serues the Bowiers turne , the Ash the Coupers art , The puisant Oke doeth make the post , the Pine some other part . The Elme doeth helpe to hide the birds , in wearie winters night , The Briers I gesse are nothyng worth , thei serue but for despight The willowe wisht I farre from hens , good will deserue no wrong , The Sallowe well maie serue their states , that syng so sad a song . The Boxe and Beche eche for hymself , aboue the reste doeth boste , The Eglantine for pleasure oft , is pricked vpon the poste . The Hauthorne so is had in prise , the Baies doe beare the bell , And that these Baies did bryng no blisse , I like it not so well . As erst I doe that semely tree , by whiche those Baies I founde , And where withall vnwittyngly , I tooke so greate a wounde . As if the tree by whiche I lent , doeth lende me no relief , There is no helpe but doune I fall , so greate is growne my grief . And therefore at the last I craue , this fauour for to finde , When euery tree that here is told , beginns to growe vnkinde . The B. for beautie whom I boste , and shall aboue the rest , That B. maie take me to her trust , for B. doeth please me best . It liks me well to walke the waie , where B. doeth kepe her bower And when it raines to B. I ronne to saue me from the shower . This braunche of B. whiche here I meane , to kepe I chiefly craue , At becke vnto this B. I bowe , to sarue that beautie braue . What shall I saie the tyme doeth passe , the tale to tedious is , Though loth to leaue , yet leaue I must , and saie no more but this , I wishe this B. I might embrace , when as the same I see , A league for life then I require , betwene this B. and me . And though vnworthy , yet good will , doeth worke the waie herein And B. hath brought the same about , whiche beautie did begin . Finis .
52. Now mortall man beholde and see , This worlde is but a vanitie . WHo shall profoundly way or scan , the assured state of man , Shall well perceiue by reason than : That where is no stabilitie , remaineth nought but vanitie . For what estate is there think ye , throughly content with his degre , Whereby we maie right clerely see : That in this vale of miserie , remaineth nought but vanitie . The great men wishe the meane estate , meane men again their state doe hate , Old men thinke children fortunate : A boye a man would fainest be , thus wandreth man in vanitie . The countrey man doth daily swell , with great desire in court to dwel The Courtier thinks hym nothyng well : Till he from court , in countrey be , he wandreth so in vanitie . The sea doeth tosse the marchants brains , to wish a farme & leue those pains , The Farmer gapeth at marchantes gaines : Thus no man can contented be , he wandreth so in vanitie . If thou haue lands or goods great store , consider thou thy charge the more , Since thou must make account therefore : Thei are not thine but lent to thee , and yet thei are but vanitie . If thou be strong or faire of face , sicknes or age doth both disgrace , Then be not proude in any case : For how can there more folly be , then for to bost of vanitie . Now finally be not infect , with worldly cares , but haue respect , How God rewardeth his true electe : With glorious felicitie : free from all worldly vanitie . Finis . M. Thorn.
53. Incommendation of Musick . WHere gripyng grief the hart would wound & dolfull domps them oppresse There Musick with her siluer sound , is wont with spede to giue redresse , Of troubled minde for euery sore , swete Musick hath a salue therfore . In ioye it maks our mirth abound , in grief it chers our heauy sprights , The carefull head release hath found , by Musicks pleasant swete delights Our sences , what should I saie more , are subiect vnto Musicks lore . The Godds by Musick hath their praie , the foule therein doeth ioye , For as the Romaine Poets saie , in seas whom Pirats would destroye , A Dolphin saued from death moste sharpe , Arion plaiyng on his harpe . A heauenly gift , that turnes the minde , like as the sterne doth rule the ship , Musick whom the Gods assignde to comfort man , whom cares would nip , Sith thou both man & beast doest moue , what wiseman then wil thee reproue . Finis M Edwards .
WHen sage Vlisses sailed by , The perillous seas , where Cirens syng : Hym self vnto the mast did tye , Lest their alluryng tunes might bryng , His mynde on maze and make hym staie , And he with his become their praie . Vlisses O thou valiant wight , It semed dame Circes loued thee well : What tyme she told , to thee aright . The seas wherein the Sirens dwell . By meane where , against thy faile , Their subtill songes , could not preuaile . Were thou amongs vs here againe , And heard our Sirens melodie : Not Circes skill nor yet thy braine , Could kepe thee from their trecherie . Suche Sirens haue we now adaies , That tempt vs by a thousande waies . Thei syng thei daunce , thei sport , thei plaie Thei humbly fall vpon their knees : Thei sigh , thei sobb , thei prate , thei praie , With suche dissemblyng shifts as these , Thei calculate , thei chaunt , thei charme , To conquere vs that meane no harme . Good ladies all letts ioyne in one , And banishe cleane this Siren kinde : What nede we yelde , to heare their mone , Since their deceipt we daiely finde . Let not your harts to them apply , Defie them all for so will I. And if where Circes now doeth dwell , You wisht you witt aduise , to learne : Loe I am she that best can tell , Their Sirens songes and them discerne . For why experience yeldeth skill , To me that scapt that Sirens ill . Finis . M. Bew.
55. Findyng no ioye , he desireth death . THe Cony in his caue , the Feret doeth anoye , And fleyng thence his life to saue , him self he doeth destroye . His Berrie rounde about besett , with hunters snares , So that when he to scape starts out , is caught therein vnwares , Like choise poore man haue I to bide and rest in loue , Or els from thence to start , and still as bad a death to proue . I see , in loue to rest , vnkindnesse doeth pursue , To rent the harte out of his breast , whiche is a louer true . And if from loue I starte , as one that loue forsaks , Then pensiue thoughts my harte doeth perse , & so my life it taks . Thus then to fly or bide , harde is the choise to chuse , Since death hath cāpde , & treāhed eche side , & saith life now refuse Content I am therefore , my life therein to spende , And death I take a salue for sore , my wearie daies to ende . And thus I you request , that faithfull loue professe , When carcas cased is in chest , and bodie laied on hears . Your brinishe teares to saue , suche as my corse shall moue , And therewith write vpon my graue , behold the force of loue . W. H.
Hope well and haue well . IN hope the Shipman hoiseth saile , in hope of passage good , In hope of health the sickly man , doeth suffer losse of bloud . In hope the prisoner linckt in chaines , hopes libertie to finde , Thus hope breds helth & helth breds ease , to euery troubled mynd . In hope desire getts victorie , in hope greate comfort spryngs , In hope the louer liues in ioyes , he feares no dreadfull flyngs : In hope we ●iue and maie abide , suche stormes as are assignde , Thus hope breds helth , & helth breds ease , to euery troubled mind . In hope we easely suffer harme , in hope of future tyme , In hope of fruite , the pain semes swete , that to the tree doeth clime In hope of loue suche glory growes , as now by profe I finde : That hope breds helth , & helth breds ease to euery troubled minde . W. H.
He repenteth his folly . When first mine eyes did vew , & marke thy beautie faire for to behold , And when myne eares , gan first to harke , the pleasant words that thou me told I would as then I had been free , from eares to heare , & eyes to se And when my hands did handle oft , that might thee kepe in memorie , And when my feete had gone so softe , to finde and haue thy companie , I would eche hande a foote had been , and eke eche foote , a hand so seen . And when in minde I did consent , to followe thus my fansies will , And when my harte did first relent , to tast suche baite my self to spill , I would my harte had been as thine , or els thy harte as soft as myne . Then should not I suche cause haue found , to wish this monstrus sight to se , Ne thou alas that madest the wounde , should not deny me remedy , Then should one will in bothe remain , to graunt one hart whiche now is twaine . W. H.
He requesteth some frendly comfort affirmyng his constancie . THe mountaines hie whose loftie topps , doeth mete the hautie sky The craggie rocke that to the sea , free passage doeth deny , The aged Oke that doeth resist , the force of blustryng blast , The pleasaunt herbe that euery where , a fragrant smell doeth cast . The Lyons forse whose courage stout , declares a princlike might , The Eagle that for worthinesse , is borne of kyngs in fight : The Serpent eke whose poisoned waies , doeth belche out venim vile , The lothsome Tode that shunneth light , and liueth in exile . These these I saie and thousands more , by trackt of tyme decaie , And like to tyme doe quite consume , and vade from forme to claie : But my true harte and seruice vowed , shall last tyme out of minde , And still remaine as thine by dome , as Cupid hath assignde . My faithe loe here I vowe to thee , my trothe thou knowest right well , My goods my frends , my life is thine , what nede I more to tell ? I am not myne but thine I vowe , thy hests I will obeye , And serue thee as a seruaunt ought , in pleasyng if I maie : And sith I haue no fliyng wings , to see thee as I wishe , Ne finnes to cut the siluer streames , as doeth the glidyng fishe . Wherefore leaue now forgetfulnesse , and sende againe to me , And straine thy azured vaines to write , that I maie greetyng see : And thus farewell more deare to me , then chiefest frende I haue , Whose loue in harte I minde to shrine , till death his fee doe craue . M. Edwards .
He complaineth his mishapp . SHall rigor raigne where youth hath ron , shall fansie now forsake . Shall fortune lose that fauour wonne , shall not your anger flake : Shall hatefull harte be had in you , that frendly did pretende , Shall slipper thoughts and faithe vntrue , that harte of yours defende Shall nature shewe your beautie faire , that gentle semes to be , Shall frowardnesse , your fancies ayer , be of more force then she : Shall now disdaine the dragg of death , direct and leade the waie , Shall all the imps vpon the yearth , reioyce at my decaie . Shall this the seruice of my youth , haue suche reward at last , Shall I receiue rigor for ruth , and be from fauour cast : Shall I therefore berent my harte , with wights that wishe to dye , Or shall I bathe my self with teares , to feede your fickle eye . No no I shall in paine lye still , with Turtle doue moste true , And vowe my self to witt and will , their counsels , to ensue : Good Ladies all that louers be , your helpe hereto purtende , Giue place to witt , let reason seme , your enemie to defende . Lest that you thinke as I haue thought , your self to striue in vaine , And so to be in thraldome brought , with me to suffer paine . Finis . M.H.
No foe to a flatterer . I Would it were not as I thinke , I would it were not so , I am not blinde although I winke , I feele what winds doe blowe : I knowe where craft , with smilyng cheare , creps into bloudy brest , I heare how fained speache , speaks faire , where hatred is possest . I se the Serpent lye and Iurck , vnder the grene alowe , I see hym watche a tyme , to worke , his poyson to bestowe . In frendly looks suche fraude is founde , as faithe for feare is fleade , And frendship hath receiued suche wounde , as he is almoste deade , And hatefull harte with malice greate , so boyles in cankerd minde : That flatteries flearyng in my face , had almoste made me blinde , But now I see all is not golde , that glittereth in the eye , Nor yet suche frends as thei professe , as now by profe I finde . Though secret spight by craft , hath made a coate of Panters skin , And thinks to finde me in the shade , by sleight to wrapp me in , Yet God be praised my eye is cleare , and can beholde the Sonne : When falshood dares not once appeare , to ende that he begonne , Thus tyme shall trie the thyng amisse , whiche God sone shortly sende . And turne the hatte that fained is , to be a faithfull frende . Finis .
THe Spider with greate skill , doeth trauell daie by daie , His limmes no tyme , lye still to set his house in staie : And when he hath it wrought , thinkyng therein to raigne , A blast of winde vnthought , doeth driue it doune againe . The profe whereof is true , to make his worke indure , He paines hym self a newe , in hope to dwell more sure : Or in some secret place , a corner of the wall , He trauaileth a spare , to builde and rest with all . His pleasure swete to staie , when he to rest is bent , An vgly shamble Flie , approcheth to his tent : And there entends by forse , his labours greate to win , Or els to yelde his corse , by fatall death therein . Thus is the Spiders nest , from tyme to tyme throwne downe , And he to labour prest , with endles pains vnknowne : So suche as louers be , like trauell doe attaine , Those endles works ye see , ●er alwaies full of paine . W. Hunis .
THe subtill ●●●y sleights , that worldly men doe worke , The frendly showes vnder whose shade , most craft doth often lurke Enforceth me alas , with yernfull voice to saie , Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks , the simple mans decaie . The birde that dreds no guile , is sonest caught in snare , Eche gentle harte deuoide of craft , is sonest brought to care : Good nature sonest trapt , whiche giues me cause to saie . Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks , the simple mans decaie . I see the serpent vile , that lurks vnder the grene , How subtelly he shrouds hym self , that he maie not be sene : And yet his fosters bane , his leryng looks bewraie , Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks , the simple mans decaie . Wo worthe the fainyng looks , one fauour that doe waite , Wo worthe the fained frendly harte , that harbours depe deceit : Wo worthe the Vipers broode , oh thrise wo worthe I saie , All worldly wily heads that seeks , the simple mans decaie . Finis . M. Edwards .
WIth painted speache I list not proue , my cunnyng for to trie , Nor●et will vse to fill my penne , with gilefull flatterie : With pen in hand and harte in breast , shall faithfull promise make To loue you best , and serue you moste , for your great vertues sake . And since dame Nature hath you deckt , with gifts aboue the rest , Let not disdaine a harbour finde , within your noble brest : For loue hath ledd his lawe alike , to men of eche degree , So that the begger with the prince , shall loue as well as he . I am no prince I must confesse , nor yet of princes line , Nor yet a brutishe begger borne , that feeds among the Swine : The fruite shall trie the tree at last , the blossomes good or no , Then doe not iudge of me the worse , till you haue tried me so . As I deserue , so then reward , I make you iudge of all , If I be false in worde or deede , let lightnyng thunder fall : And furies fell with franticke fitts , bereue and stopp my breathe , For an example to the rest , if I shall breake my faithe . Finis . M. B.
Trie and then trust . THe sainct I serue , and haue besought full oft , Vpon my knees , to stande my Goddes good : With hope did holde , my head sometyme aloft , And fed my faunyng frende , with daintie foode . But now I see , that words are nought but winde , The sweter meate , the sowrer sauce I finde . Thus while I helde the Ele by the taile , I had some hope , yet neuer wanted feare : Of double dread , that man can neuer faile , That will presume to take the Wolfe , by the eare . I snatche for sothe , muche like to Esops dogg , I sought for fishe , and alwaies caught a frogg . Thus did I long bite , on the fomyng bitt , Whiche found me plaie enough , vnto my paine : Thus while I loued , I neuer wanted fitt , But liued by losse , and sought no other gaine . But why should I mislike with Fortunes fetters , Since that the like haue hapt vnto my betters . Richard Hill.
Complainyng to his frende , he replieth wittely . A. THe fire shall freese , the frost shall frie the frozen mountains hie , B. what strange thinges shal dame nature force , to turne her course awrie . A. My Ladie hath me left , and taken a newe man , B. This is not straunge , it happes oft tymes , the truthe to scan , A. The more is my paine , B. her loue then refraine , A. Who thought she would flitt , B. ethe one that hath witt , A. Is not this straunge , B. light loue will chaunge . A. By skilfull meanes I her reclaime , to stope vnto my luer , B. Suche hagard haukes will sore awaie , of them who can be fuct . A. With siluer bells and hoode , my ioye was her to decke . B. She was full gorgd , she would the soner giue the checke . A. The more is my paine , B. her loue then refraine , A. Who thought she would flitt , B. eche one that hath witt , A. Is not this straunge , B. light loue will chaunge . A. Her chirping lippes would chirp to me , swete wordes of her desire B. Suche chirping birdes who euer sawe , to preach still ●n one brire A. She saied she loued me dests , and would doe till she die , B. She saied in wordes , she thought it not , as tyme doeth trie . A. The more is my paine , B. her loue then refraine , A. Who thought she would flitt , B. eche one that hath witt . A. Is not this straunge , B. light loue will chaunge . A. Can no man winne : a woman so , to make her loue endure , B. To make the Foxe his wiles to leaue , what man will put in vre , A. Why then there is no choice , but all women will chaunge , B. As men doe vse so , some women doe loue to raunge , A. The more is my paine , B. her loue then refraine , A. Who thought she would flitt , B. eche one that hath witt : A. Is not this straunge , B. light loue will chaunge . A. Sithe slipper gaine falles to my lot , farwell that glidyng praie B. Sithe that the dice doeth runne a wrie , betimes leaue of thy plaie . A. I will no more lament , the thyng I maie not haue , B. Then by exchaunge the losse to come , all shalt thou saue . A. Loue will I refraine , B. thereby thou shalt gaine : A. With losse I will leaue , B. she will thee deceiue , A. That is not straunge , B. then let her raunge . M. Edwards .
No paines comparable to his attempt : WHat watche , what we , what want , what wracke ? Is due to those that toyle the Seas : Life ledd with losse , of paines no lacke , In stormes to winne , muche restlesse case . A bedlesse horde , in seas vnrest , Maie happ to hym , that chaunseth best . How sundrie sounds with lead and line , Vnto the depe , the shipman throwes : No foote to spare , he cries oft tymes , No nere , when how the master blowes . If Neptune frown , all be vndoen , Strait waie the shipp , the wrack hath won These daungers greate doe oft befall , On those that there vpon the sande : Iudge of their liues , the best who shall , How vile it is , fewe vnderstande . Alacke ? who then maie iudge , their game : Not thei , whiche haue not felt the same . But thei that fall in stormes and winde , And daies and yeres haue spent therein : Suche well may iudge , since profe thei find In rage , no rest , till calme begin . No more then those , that loue doe faine , Giue iudgement of true louers paine . Finis . W. H.
No pleasure without some paine . HOw can the tree but wast , and wither awaie , That hath not sometyme comfort of the Sonne : How can that flower but fade , and sone decaie , That alwaies is with darke clouds ouer ronne . Is this a life , naie death you maie it call , That feeles eche paine , and knoweth no ioye at all . What foodles beast can liue long in good plight , Or is it life , where sences there be none : Or what auaileth eyes without their light ? Or els a tonge , to hym that is alone . Is this a life ? naie death you maie it call , That feeles eche paine , and knowes no ioye at all . Whereto serue eares , if that there be no sounde , Or suche a head , where no deuise doeth growe : But all of plaints , since sorrowe is the grounde , Whereby the harte doeth pine in deadly woe . Is this a life , naie death you maie it call , That feeles eche paine , and knows no ioye at all . Finis . L. Vaux .
The fruites of fained frendes . IN choise of frends what happy had I , to chuse one of Cirenes kinde , Whose harpe , whose pipe , whose melodie , could feede my eares & make me blinde : Whose pleasant noise made me forget , that in sure trust was great deceit . In trust I see is treason founde , and man to man deceitfull is , And whereas Treasure doeth abounde , of flatterers there doe not misse : Whose painted speache , and outward showe , doe seme as frends and be not so . Would I haue thought in thee to be , the nature of the Crokadill , Whiche if a man a slepe maie see , with bloudy thirst desires to kill : And then with teares a while gan wepe , the death of hym thus slaine a slepe . O flatterer false , thou traitor borne , what mischief more might thou deuise , Then thy deare frende , to haue in scorne , and hym to wounde in sondrie wise : Whiche still a frende pretends to be , and art not so by profe I se . Fie fie , vpon suche trechery . Finis . W. H.
Beyng importunate , at the length , he obtaineth . A. SHall I no waie winne you , to graunt my desire ? B. What woman , will graunt you , the thyng you require : A. You onely to loue me , is all that craue , B. You onely to leaue me , is all I would haue . A. My deare alas now saie not so , B. To loue you best , I must saie no : A. Yet will I not flitt , B. then plaie on the bitt . A. I will , B. doe still , A. yet kill not , B. I will not . A. Make me your man , B. beshrewe me than . A. The swifter I followe , then you fly awaie , B. Swift hauks in their fliyng , oft times misse their pray A. Yet some killeth dedly , that flie to the marke : B. You shall touche no feather , thereof take no carke . A. Yet hope shall further my desire , B. You blowe the coales , and raise no fire . A. Yet will I not flitt , B. then plaie on the bitt , A. I will , B. doe still , A. yet kill not , B. I will not , A. Make me your man , B. beshrewe me than . A. To loue is no daunger where true loue is ment , B. I will loue no ranger , lest that I repent : A. My loue is no ranger , I make God auow , B. To trust your smoth saiyngs , I sure knowe not how . A. Moste truthe I meane , as tyme shall well trie , B. No truthe in men , I oft espie . A Yet will I not flitt , B. then plaie on the bitt . A. I will , B. doe still , A. yet kill not . B. I will not : A. Make me your man , B. Be shrewe me than . A. Some women maie saie naie , and meane loue moste true , B. Some women can make fools , of as wise men as you , A. In tyme I shall catche you , I knowe when and where : B. I will sone dispatche you , you shall not come there . A. Some speds at length , that oft haue mist , B. I am well armed , come when you list . A. Yet will I not flitt , B. then plaie on the bitt . A. I will , B. doe still , A. yet kill not , B. I will not , A. Make me your man , B. beshrewe me than . A. Yet worke your kinde kindly , graunt me loue for loue , B. I will vse you frendly , as I shall you proue : A. Moste close you shall finde me , I this doe protest , B. Then sure you shall binde me , to graunt your request . A. O happie threde now haue I sponne , B. You syng before the conquest wonne . A. Why then , will you swarne , B. euen as you deserue : A. Loue still , B. I will , A. yet kill not , B. I will not . A. Make me your man , B. come to me than . Finis . M. B.
Requiryng the fauour of his loue : She aunswereth thus . M. WHat death maie be , compared to loue ? H. What grief therein , now doest thou proue ? M. My paines alas who can expresse , H. I see no cause of heauinesse . M. My Ladies looks , my wo hath wrought : H. Then blame thyne eyes that first haue sought , M. I burne alas , and blowe the fire , H. A foole consumes by his desire , M. What shall I do than ? H , come out and thou can . H. Alas I die , M. what remedie ? M. My sugred sweete , is mixed with gall , H. Thy Ladie can not doe with all : M. The more I seeke , the lesse I finde , H. Then striue not with the streame and winde . M. Her must I loue , although I smarte , H. With thy owne sworde , thou slaiest thy harte : M. Suche pleasaunt baites , who can refraine , H. Suche beats will sure brede the greate paine . M. What shal I do than ? H. Come out and thou can . H. Alas I die , M. what remedie . M. Her golden beames , myne eyes doe daze , H. Vpon the Sonne thou maiest not gaze : M. She might reward my cruell smarte , H. She thinks thou bearest a fained harte . M. She laughs to heare my wofull cries , H. Forsake her then , in tyme be wise : M. No no alas , that maie not bee , H. No wise man then will pitie thee , M. What shall I do than ? H. come out and thou can . M. Alas I die , H. what remedie . M. A liuyng death , loe thus I proue , H. Suche are the fruts of froward loue : M. O that I might her loue once againe , H. Thy gaine would not , halfe quite the paine . M. Her will I loue though she be coye , H. A foole hym self will still anoye : M. Who will not die for suche a one , H. Be wise at length , let her alone : M. I can not doe so , H. then be thy owne foe , M. Alas I die , H. what remedie . Finis . E. S.
A louers ioye . I Haue no ioye , but dreame of ioye , and ioye to thinke on ioye , A ioye I withstoode , for to enioye , to finishe myne anoye : I hate not without cause alas , yet loue I knowe not why , I thought to hate , I can not hate , although that I should die . A foe moste swete , a frende moste sower , I ioye for to embrace , I hate the wrong and not the wight , that workt my wofull case : What thyng it is I knowe not I , but yet a thyng there is , That in my fancie still perswads , there is no other blisse . The ioyes of life , the pangs of death , it make me feele eche daie , But life nor death , this humour can deuise to weare awaie . Faine would I dye , but yet in death no hope I see remaines , And shall I liue ? since life I see , a sourse of sorie paines : What is it then that I doe seke , what ioye would I aspire , A thyng that is deuine belike , to high for mans desire . Finis . FK .
The iudgement of desire . THe liuely Larke did stretche her wyng , The messenger of mornyng bright : And with her cherefull voyce did syng , The daies approche , dischargyng night . When that Aurora blushyng redd , Discride the gilt of Thetis bedd : Laradon tan tan , Tedriton teight . I went abroad to take the aire , And in the meadds I mett a knight , Clad in carnation colour faire , I did salute the youthfull wight . Of hym I did his name enquire , He sight and saied , I am desire , Laradon tan tan , Tedriton teight . Desire I did desire to staie , A while with hym I craued talke : The courteous wight saied me no naie , But hande in hande with me did walke . Then in desire I askte againe , What thing did please , and what did pain Laradon , tan , tan . He smild and thus he answered me , Desire can haue no greater paine : Then for to see an other man , The thyng desired to obtaine . No ioye no greater to then this , Then to inioye what others misse , Laridon , tan , tan . Finis . E. O.
The complaint of a louer , wearyng Blacke and Tawnie. A Croune of Bayes shall that man weare , That triumphs ouer me : For blacke and Tawnie will I weare , Whiche mournyng colours be . The more I folowed on , the more she fled awaie , As Daphne did full long agone , Apollos wishfull praie : The more my plaints resounde , the lesse she pities me , The more I saught the lesse I founde , that myne she ment to be . Melpomeney , alas with dolefull tunes helpe than , And syng bis wo worthe on me ▪ forsaken man : Then Daphnes baies shal that man weare , that triumphs ouer me , For Blacke & Taunie will I weare , which monrnyng colours be . Droune me you tricklyng teares , you wailefull wights of woe , Come help these hands to rent my heares , my rufull happs to showe : On whom the scorchyng flames of loue , doeth feede you se , Ah a lalalantida my deare dame , hath thus tormented me . Wherefore you Muses nine , with dolefull tunes helpe than , And syng Bis wo worthe on me forsaken man : Then Daphnes Baies shall that man weare , that triumps euer me For Blacke & Taunie will I weare , which mourning colours be . An Ancres life to leade , with nailes to scratche my graue , Where earthly Wormes on me shall fede , is all the ioyes I craue : And hid my self from shame , sith that myne eyes doe see , Ah a alantida my deare dame , hath thus tormented me . And all that present be , with dolefull tunes helpe than : And syng Bis woe worthe on me , forsaken man . Finis . E.O.
He complaineth thus . LO heare the man that must of loue complaine , Lo heare that seas that feeles no kinde of blisse : Lo here I seke for ioye , and finde but paine , Lo what despite can greater be then this ? To freze to death , and stande yet by the fire , And she that shonneth me moste , I doe desire . L. But shall I speake alas , or shall I die , A. By death no helpe , in speache some helpe doeth lie : L. Then from that breast , remoue a Marble minde , A. As I see cause , so are ye like to finde . L. I yelde my self , what would you more of me , A. You yelde , but for to winne and conquer me , L. Sa●e and kill not madame , A. Forsake your sute for shame , No no no no , not so . O happie man , now vaunt thy self , That hath this conquest gainde : And now doeth liue in greate delight , That was so lately painde . Triumph , triumph , triumph , wholouers be Thrise happie is that woyng , That is not long a doyng , Triumph , triumph , triumph , that hath like victorie . Finis .
Findyng no relief , he complaineth thus . IN quest of my relief I finde distresse , In recompence of loue , moste depe disdaine : My langour is suche , words maie not expresse , A shower of teares , my watrishe eye doeth raine . I dreame of this , and doe deuine of wo , I wander in the thoughts , of my swete fo . I would no peace , the cause of warre I flie , I hope , I feare I burne , I chill in froste : I lye alowe , yet mounts my minde on hie , Thus doubtfull stormes , my troubled thoughts haue toste , And for my paine , this pleasure doe I proue . I hate my self , and pine in others loue . The worlde I graspe , yet holde I nought at all , At libertie , I seme in prison pent : I taste the sweete , more lower then bitter gall , My shipp semes sounde , and yet her ribbs be rent . And out alas , on Fortune false I crie , Looke what I craue , that still she doeth denie . Bothe life and death , be equall vnto me , I doe desire to die , yet craue I life , My witts with sondrie thoughts doe disagre , My self am with my self at mortall strife . As warmth of sonne doeth melte the siluer Snowe , The heate of loue , beholde consumes me so . Finis . R.H.
Beyng in loue , he complaineth . WHat dome is , this I faine would knowe , That demeth all by contraries : What God , or whether height or lowe , Now would I learne some warrantise . Some saie the blinded God aboue , Is he that woorketh all by loue : But he that stirreth strife , the truthe to tell , I alwaies feele , but knowe not well . Some saie Alecto with her mates , Are thei whiche breedeth all anoye : Who sitts like Haggs in hellishe gates , And seeks still whom thei maie destroye . Some saie againe , t is destinie , But how it comes , or what it is , I let it passe , before I misse . Despite doeth alwaies worke my wo , And happ as yet holds hardly still : For feare I set my frendshipp so , And thinke againe to reape good will . I doe but striue against the winde , For more I seeke , the lesse I finde : And where I seeke moste for to please , There finde I alwaies my desease . And thus I loue , and doe reape still , Nothyng but hate for my good will . Finis . L. V.
A louer disdained , complaineth . IF euer man had loue to dearly bought , Lo I am he that plaies within her maze : And finds no waie , to get the same I sought , But as the Dere are driuen vnto the gaze . And to augment the grief of my desire , My self to burne , I blowe the fire : But shall I come ny you , Of forse I must flie you . What death alas , maie be compared to this , I plaie within the maze of my swete foe : And when I would of her but craue a kis , Disdaine enforceth her awaie to goe . My self I check : yet doe I twiste the twine , The pleasure hers , the paine is myne , But shall I come ny you , Of forse I must flie you . You courtly wights , that wants your pleasant choise , Lende me a floud of teares , to waile my chaunce : Happie are thei in loue , that can reioyse , To their greate paines , where fortune doeth aduaunce But sith my sute alas , can not preuaile , Full fraight with care , in grief still will I waile : Sith you will needs flie me , I maie not come ny you . Finis . L.V.
Beyng in loue , he complaineth . IF care or skill , could conquere vaine desire , Or reasons raines , my strong affection staie : Then should my sights , to quiet breast retire , And shunne suche signes , as secret thoughts bewraie . Vncomely loue , whiche now lurks in my breast , Should cease my grief , through wisdōs power opprest But who can leaue , to looke on Venus face ? Or yeldeth not , to Iunos high estate : What witt so wise , as giues not Pallas place , These vertues rare , eche Godds did yelde amate . Saue her alone , who yet on yearth doeth reigne , Whose beauties stryng , no Gods can well destraine . What worldly wight , can hope for heauenly hire , When onely sights , must make his secret mone : A silent sute , doeth se●de to Grace aspire , My haples happe , doeth role to restles stone , Yet Phebe faire , disdainde the heauens aboue , To ioye on yearth , her poore Endimions loue . Rare is reward , where none can iustly craue , For chaunce is choise , where reason maks no claime : Yet lucke sometymes , dispairyng souls doeth saue , A happie starre made Giges ioye attaine . A slauishe Smith , of rude and rascall race , Founde means in tyme , to gaine a Goddes grace . Then loftie Loue , thy sacred sailes aduaunce , My sithyng seas , shall flowe with streames of teares : Amidds disdaine , driue forthe my dolefull chaunce , A valiaunt minde , no deadly daunger feares . Who loues alofte , and setts his harte on hie , Deserues no paine , though he doe pine and die . Finis . M.B.
A louer reiected , complaineth . THe tricklyng teares , that fales along my cheeks , The secret sighs , that showes my inward grief : The present paines perforce , that loue aye seeks , Bidds me renew , my cares without relief , In wofull song in dole displaie , My pensiue harte for to bewraie . Bewraie thy grief , thou wofull harte with speede , Resigne thy voyce , to her that causde thy woe : With irksome cries , bewaile thy late doen deede , For she thou louest , is sure thy mortall foe , And helpe for thee , there is none sure , But still in paine , thou must endure , The striken Deare hath helpe , to heale his wounde , The haggerd hauke , with toile is made full tame : The strongest tower , the Canon laies on grounde , The wisest witt , that euer had the fame . Was thrall to Loue , by Cupids sleights , Then waie my case with equall waights . She is my ioye , she is my care and wo , She is my paine , she is my ease therefore : She is my death , she is my life also , She is my salue , she is my wounded sore . In fine , she hath the hande and knife , That maie bothe saue , and ende my life . And shal I liue on yearth to be her thral ? And shall I sue , and serue her all in vaine ? And kisse the stepps , that she lett s fall , And shall I praie the gods , to kepe the pain From her , that is so cruell still ? No , no , on her woorke all your will . And let her feele the power of all your might , And let her haue her moste desire with speede : And let her pine awaie , bothe daie and night , And let her moue , and none lament her neede . And let all those , that shall her se , Dispise her state , and pitie me . Finis . E. O.
Not attainyng to his desire , he complaineth . I Am not as seme to bee , Nor when I smile , I am not glad : A thrall although you count me free , I moste in mirthe , moste pensiue sadd . I smile to shade my bitter spight , As Haniball that sawe in sight : His countrey soile , with Carthage toune : By Romaine force , defaced doune . And Caesar that presented was , With noble Pompeyes princely hedd , As t were some iudge , to rule the case , A floud of teares , he semde to shedd . Although in deede , it sprong of ioye , Yet others thought it was annoye : Thus contraries be vsed I finde , Of wise to cloke the couert minde . I Haniball that smiles for grief , And let you Caesars teares suffice : The one that laughs at his mischief , The other all for ioye that cries . I smile to see me scorned so , You wepe for ioye , to see me wo : And I a harte by loue slaine dead , Presents in place of Pompeyes head . O cruell happ , and harde estate , That forceth me to loue my foe : Accursed be so foule afate , My choise for to profixe it so . So long to fight with secret sore , And finde no secret salue therefore : Some purge their paine , by plaint I finde , But I in vaine doe breathe my winde . Finis . E. O.
His mynde not quietly setled , he writeth this . EVen as the waxe doeth melt , or dewe consume awaie , Before the Sonne , so I behold through careful thoughts decaie : For my best lucke leads me , to suche sinister state , That I doe wast with others loue , that hath my self in hate . And he that beats the bushe , the wished birde not getts , But suche I see as sitteth still , and holds the foulyng netts . The Drone more honie sucks , that laboureth not at all , Then doeth the Bee , to whose most pain , least pleasure doth befall : The Gardner sowes the seeds , whereof the flowers doe growe , And others yet doe gather them , that tooke lesse paine I knowe . So I the pleasaunt grape haue pulled from the Vine , And yet I languish in greate thirst , while others drinke the wine . Thus like a wofull wight , I woue my webb of woe , The more I would wede out my cares , the more thei seme to grow The whiche betokeneth hope , forsaken is of me , That with the carefull culuer climes , the worne & withered tree . To entertaine my thoughts , and there my happe to mone , That neuer am lesse idle lee , then when I am alone . Finis . E. O.
Of the mightie power of Loue . MY meanyng is to worke , what wondes loue hath wrought , Wherwith I muse why men of wit , haue loue so derely bought : For loue is worse then hate , and eke more harme hath doen , Record I take of those that rede , of Paris Priams sonne . It semed the God of slepe had mazed so muche his witts , When he refused witt for loue , whiche cometh but by fitts : But why accuse I hym , whom yearth hath couered long , There be of his posteritie aliue , I doe hym wrong . Whom I might well condempne , to be a cruell iudge : Vnto my self who hath the crime , in others that I grudge . Finis . E. O.
Beyng disdained , he complaineth . IF frendlesse faithe , if giltlesse thought maie shield , If simple truthe that neuer ment to swerue : If dere desire accepted frute doe yield , If greedie lust in loyall life doe serue . Then maie my plaint bewaile my heauie harme : That sekyng calme , haue stombled on the storme . My wonted cheare , ecclipsed by the cloude , Of deepe disdaine , through errour of reporte : If wearie woe enwrapped in thy shroude , Lies slaine by tonge of the vnfrendly sorte . Yet heauen and yearth , and all that nature wrought : I call to vowe of my vnspotted thought . No shade I seke in parte , to shilde my taint , But simple truthe , I hunt no other sute : On that I gape , the issue of my plaint , If that I quaile , let iustice me confute . If that my place , emongs the giltles sort , Repaie by dome , my name and good report . Goe heauie verse , persue desired grace , Where pittie shrinde in cell of secret brest : Awaits my hast , the rightfull lott to place , And lothes to see , the giltles man opprest . Whose vertues great , haue crouned her more with fame , Then kyngly state , though largely shine the same . Finis . L. Vaux .
Of the meane estate . THe higher that the Ceder tree , vnder the heauens doe growe , The more in danger is the top , when sturdie winds gan blowe , Who iudges then in princely throne , to be deuoide of hate , Doeth not yet knowe , what heapes of ill , lies hid in suche estate . Suche dangers greate , suche gripes of minde , suche toile doe thei sustaine , That oftentimes , of God thei wishe , to be vnkyngde againe . For as the huge & mightie rocks , withstande the ragyng seas , So kyngdoms in subiection be , whereas dame Fortune please : Of brittle ioye , of smilyng cheare , of honie mixt with gall , Allotted is to euery Prince , in fredome to be thrall . What watches longe , what stepps vnsure , what grefes and cares of minde : What bitter broiles , what endles toiles , to kyngdoms be assingde . The subiect then maie well compare with prince for plesant daies , Whose silent might bryngs quiet rest , whose might no storme bewraies : How muche be we , then bounde to God , who suche prouision maks To laye our cares vpon the Prince thus doeth he for our saks . To hym therefore , let vs lift vp our harts , and praie a maine : That euery Prince that he hath plast , maie long in quiet raigne . Finis . L. V.
Of a contented mynde . WHen all is doen and saied , in the ende thus shall you finde , The moste of all doeth bathe in blisse , that hath a quiet minde : And clere from worldly cares , to deame can be content , The swetest tyme , in all his life , in thinkyng to be spent . The bodie subiect is , to fickle Fortunes power , And to a million of mishapps , is casuall euery hower : And death in tyme doeth chaunge it to a clodde of claye , When as the mynde whiche is deuine , runnes neuer to decaie . Companion none is like , vnto the mynde alone , For many haue been harmde by speache , through thinking fewe or none : Fewe oftentymes restraineth words , but maks not thoughts to cease , And he speaks best that hath the skill , when for to holde his peace . Our wealth leaues vs at death , our kinsmen at the graue , But vertues of the mynde , vnto the heauens with vs we haue : Wherefore for vertues sake , I can be well content , The swetest tyme of all my life , to deme in thinkyng spent . Finis . L. Vaux .
Trie before you trust . TO counsell my estate , abandonde to the spoile , Of forged frendes whose grosest fraude , it set with finest foile . To verifie true dealyng wights , whose trust no treason dreads , And all to deare th acquaintance be , of suche moste harmfull heads . I am aduised thus , who so doeth frende , frende so , As though to morrowe next he feared , for to become a fo . To haue a fained frende , no perill like I finde , Oft fleryng face maie mantell best , a mischief in the mynde : A paire of angels eares , oft tymes doeth hide a serpents harte , Vnder whose gripes who so doeth come , to late complaines the smart . Wherefore I doe aduise , who so doeth frende frende soe , As though to morrowe next , he should become a mortall foe . Refuse respectyng frends , that courtly knowe to faine , For gold that winnes for gold , shall lose , the self same frend againe : The Quaile needs neuer feare , in foulers netts to fall , If he would neuer bende his eare , to listen to his call . Therefore trust not to sone , but when you frende frende soe , As though to morrowe next , ye feard for to become a foe . Finis . L. Vaux .
He renounceth all the affectes of loue . LIke as the Harte that lifteth vp his eares , To heare the hounds , that hath hym in the chafe : Doeth cast the winde , in daungers and in feares , With fliyng foote , to passe awaie apace . So must I fly of loue the vaine pursute , Whereof the gaine is lesser then the friute . And I also must lothe those learyng looks , Where loue doeth lurke still with a subtill slaight : With painted mocks , and inward hidden hooks , To trapp by trust , that lieth not in waite . The ende whereof , assaie it who so shall , Is sugred smart , and inward bitter gall . And I also must flie suche Sirian songs , Wherewith that Circes , Vlisses did enchaunt : These wilie Watts I meane , with filed tongs , That harts of steele , haue power to daunt , Who so as hauke , that stoppeth to their call , For moste desart , receiueth least of all . But woe to me that first behelde those eyes , The trapp wherein I saie , that I was tane : An outward salue , whiche inward me destroies , Whereto I runne , as Ratt vnto her bane . As to the fishe , sometyme it doeth befall , That with the baite , doeth swallowe hooke and all . Within my breast , wherewith I daiely fedd , The vaine repast of amorous hot desire : With loytryng lust , so long that hath me fedd , Till he hath brought me to the flamyng fire . In tyme at Phenix ends her care and carks , I make the fire , and burne my self with sparks . Finis . L. Vaux .
Beyng in sorrowe he complaineth . MIstrust misdemes amisse , whereby displeasure growes , And time delaied , finds frends afraied , their faith for to disclose : Suspect that breede the thought , and thought to sighes conuarte , And sighs haue sought a floud of teares , wher sobbs do seke the hart . Thus harte that meanes no harme , must feede on sorrowes all , Vntill suche tyme as pleaseth the iudge , the truth in question call : Though cause of greate mistrust , before that iudge appeare , My truthe and mercie of my iudge , I trust shall set me cleare . Report these rimes at large , my truthe for to detecte , Yet truthe in tyme shall trie it self , and driue awaie suspecte : Beleue not euery speache nor speake not all you heare , For truthe and mercie of the iudge , I trust shall set me cleare . Finis . L. V.
Beyng in loue , he complaineth . ENforst by loue and feare , to please and not offende , Within the words you would me write , a message must I sende : A wofull errande sure a wretched man must write , A wretched tale , a wofull head , besemeth to endite . For what can he but waile , that hath but all he would . And yet that all , is nought at all , but lacke of all he should : But lacke of all his minde : what can be greater greif , That haue & lacke that likes him best , must neds be most mischief . Now foole what maks thee waile , yet some might saie full well That hast no harme but of thy self , as thou thy self canst tell : To whom I aunswere thus , since all my harmes doe growe , Vpon my self , so of my self , some happ maie come I trowe . And since I see bothe happ , and harme betids to me , For present woe , my after blisse , will make me not forget thee : Who hath a field of golde , and maie not come therein , Must liue in hope till he haue forse , his treasure well to winne . Whose ioyes by hope of dreade , to conquere or to lose , So greate a wealth doeth rise , and for example doeth disclose : To winne the golden flese , stoode Iason not in drede , Till that Medeas hope of helpe , did giue hym hope to spede . Yet sure his minde was muche , and yet his feare the more , That hath no happ but by your helpe , maie happ for to restore : The ragyng Bulls he dread , yet by his Ladies charme , He knewe it might be brought to passe , thei could doe little harme . Vnto whose grace yelde he , as I doe offer me , Into your hands to haue his happ , not like hym for to be : But as kyng Priamus did binde hym to the will . Of Cressed false whiche hym forsooke , with Diomede to spill . So I to you commende my faithe , and eke my ioye , I hope you will not be so false , as Cressed was to Troye : For if I be vntrue , her Lazares death I wishe , And eke to thee if I be false , her clapper and her dishe . Finis . R. L.
Beyng in trouble , he writeth thus . IN terrours trapp with thraldome thrust , Their thornie thoughts to tast and trie : In conscience cleare from case vniust , With carpyng cares did call and crie . And saied O God , yet thou art he , That can and will deliuer me . Bis. Thus tremblyng there with teares I trodd . To totter tide in truthes defence : With sighes and sobbs , I saied O God , Let right not haue this recompence . Lest that my foes might laugh to see , That thou wouldest not deliuer me . Bis. My soule then to repentaunce ranne , My ragged clothes berent and torne : And did bewaile the losse it wanne , With lothsome life so long forlorne . And saied O God yet thou art he , That can and will deliuer me . Bis. Then comfort came with clothes of ioye Whose semes were faithfull stedfastnesse : And did bedecke that naked boye , Whiche erst was full of wretchednesse . And saied be glad for God is he , That shortly will deliuer thee . Bis. Finis . T. M.
Beyng troubled in mynde , he writeth as followeth . THe bitter sweate that straines my yelded harte , The carelesse count , that doeth the same embrace : The doubtfull hope , to reape my due desarte , The pensiue path , that guids my restlesse race . Are at suche warre within my wounded brest , As doeth bereue my ioye and eke my rest , My greedie will , that seks the golden gaine , My luckles lot , doeth alwaie take in worthe : My mated mynde , that dredes my sutes in vaine , My piteous plaint , doeth helpe for to set forthe . So that betwene twoo waues of ragyng seas , I driue my daies in troubles and desease . My wofull eyes doe take their chief delight , To feede their fill vpon the pleasaunt maze : My hidden harmes that growe in me by sight , With pinyng paines doe driue me from the gaze . And to my hope I reape no other hire , But burne my self , and I to blowe the fire . Finis . I.H.
Looke or you leape . IF thou in suertie safe wilt sitt , If thou delight at rest to dwell : Spende no more words then shall seme fitt , Let tonge in silence talke expell . In all thyngs that thou seest men bent , Se all , saie nought , holde thee content . In worldly works degrees are three , Makers , doers , and lookers on : The lookers on haue libertie , Bothe the others to iudge vpon . Wherefore in all , as men are bent , Se all , saie nought , holde thee content . The makers oft are in fault founde , The doers doubt of praise or shame : The lookers on finde surest grounde , Thei haue the fruite , yet free from blame . This doeth persuade in all here ment , Se all , saie nought , holde thee content . The prouerbe is not South and West , Whiche hath be saied , long tyme agoe : Of little medlyng cometh rest , The busie man neuer wanteth woe . The best waie is in all worlds sent , Se all , saie nought , holde thee content . Finis . Iasper Haywood .
He bewaileth his mishappe . IN wretched state alas I rewe my life , Whose sorrowes rage torments with deadly paine : In drowned eyes , beholde my teares be rife , In doubtfull state , a wretche I must remaine , You wofull wights enured to like distresse , Bewaile with me my wofull heauinesse . What stonie harte suche hardnes can retaine , That sharpe remorse , no rest can finde therein : What ruthlesse eyes so carelesse can remaine , That daiely teares maie pitie winne . For right I seeke , and yet renewe my sore , Vouchsalfe at length my saftie to restore . My loue is lost , woe worthe in woe I dye , Disdainfull harte doeth worke suche hatefull spite : In losse of loue a wretche must ioye to dye , For life is death , now hope is banisht quite . O death approche bereue my life from me , Why should I liue opprest with woe to be . Finis . R. H.
The complaint of a Synner . O Heauenly God O Father dere , cast doune thy tender eye , Vpon a wretche that prostrate here , before thy trone doeth lye : O powre thy precious oyle of grace , into my wounded harte , O let the dropps of mercie swage , the rigour of my smarte . My fainting soule suppressed sore , with carefull clogge of sinne , In humble sort submitts it self , thy mercie for to winne : Graunt mercie then O sauiour swete , to me moste wofull thrall , Whose mornfull crie to thee O Lorde , doeth still for mercie call . Thy blessed will I haue despised , vpon a stubborne minde : And to the swaie of worldly thyngs , my self I haue enclinde : Forgettyng heauen , & heauenvly powers , where God and saincts do dwel My life had likt to tread the path , the leads the waie to hell . But now my lorde , my lode starre bright I will no more doe so : To thinke vpon my former life , my harte doeth melt for woe . Alas I sigh , alas I sobbe , alas I doe repent : That euer my licencious will , so wickedly was bent . Sith thus therefore with yernfull plain , I doe thy mercie craue O Lorde for thy greate mercies sake , let me thy mercie haue : Restore to life the wretched soule , that els is like to dye , So shall my voyce vnto thy name , syng praise eternally . Now blessed be the Father first , and blessed be the Sonne , And blessed be the holie Ghoste , by whom all thyngs are doen : Blesse me O blessed Trinitie , with thy eternall grace , That after death my soule maie haue , in heauen a dwellyng place . Finis . F.K.
The fruite , that sprynges from wilfull wites , is ruthe , and ruins rage : And sure what heedelesse youth committes , repentaunce rues in age . I Rage in restlesse ruthe , and ruins rule my daies , I rue ( to late ) my rechlesse youthe , by rules of reasons waies : I ran so long a race , in searche of surest waie , That leasure learnde me tread the trace , that led to leud decaie . I gaue so large a raine , to vnrestrained bitt , That now with proofe of after paine , I waile my want of witt : I trifeled forthe the tyme , with trust to self conceiptes , Whilst plenties vse prickt forth my prime , to search for sugred baites . Wherein once learnde to finde , I founde so sweete a taste , That dewe foresight of after speede , self will estemed waste . Whiche will , through wilfulnesse , hath wrought my witlesse fall , And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse , hath lapt my life in thrall . Whereby by proofe I knowe , that pleasure breedeth paine , And he that euill seede doeth sowe euill frute must reape againe . Let suche therefore , whose youth , and pursses are in Prime , Foresee & shun , the helplesse ruthe , whiche fews misspence of time . For want is nexte to waste , and shame doeth synne ensue , Euil speding proofe hath hedeles hast , my self hath proued it true . When neighbours next house burnes , t is tyme thereof take hede , For fortunes whele hath choise of turnes , which change of chanses breds . My saile hath been aloft , though now I beare but lowe , Who clims to high selde falleth soft , dedst ebbe hath highest flowe . Finis . qd Yloop.

Imprinted at London by Henry Disle , dwellyng at the Southwest doore of S. Paules Churche . 1576.