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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A18760	A pleasaunte laborinth called Churchyardes chance framed on fancies, vttered with verses, and writte[n] to giue solace to euery well disposed mynde: wherein notwithstanding are many heauie epitaphes, sad and sorowfull discourses and sutche a multitude of other honest pastymes for the season (and passages of witte) that the reader therein maie thinke his tyme well bestowed. All whiche workes for the pleasure of the worlde, and recreation of the worthie, are dedicated to the right honourable sir Thomas Bromley knight, lorde Chancelour of Englande.; Churchyardes chance	Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.	1580 (1580)	STC 5250; ESTC S105045	53,461	90

for pleasure and delite and dedicated where I desire my duetifull good will maie be embraced The matters I treate of are written of sutche sondrie humours and subiectes that thei are more to be redd for the varietie of woordes then for the goodnesse of the verses and the cause why and wherefore I dedicate sutche a matter to your Lordship is for that I would be sorie that my daies and yeres should bee spent with the losse of tyme and that my labour and studie well ment should be forgotten and caste in a corner for wāt of the printing The strange motions and maner of the writyng showes nothyng but the nature of mans fansies that neuer continueth in one kinds of consait The occasions of so many seuerall discourses rose but on the innumerable deuises of the hed that euer in one pointe or other by imagination is occupied And the whole somme and substance of that whiche is written is but to publish to the worlde that ill is better to be meanely exercised in honest pastymes then basely bent and giuen to barraine slothe and Idelnesse Thus trustyng your good Lordship will take in good part a part of the portion that from the heauens is giuen me I presente vnto your handes this newe yere some of mine old labors studies Printed al bound in one newe volume for sutche as pleases to buye them And so as beste becommeth me and duetie commaundes I remaine a well willer to your honour duryng my life moste willyngly at commaundemente Thomas Churchyard Churchyardes Chance My Ladie of Lennoyes graces Epitaphe YOU noble dames of greatest birth whose fame to clouds would flye On this cold cors with warme good will bowe doune your iudgyng eye To see how fleshe and blood must fall to dust when race is ronne And worldly brute and honours blaste shall ende where it begonne If stately name or high renowne might make her bodie liue Or Princes blood to life and breath might here a patente giue This Ladie had not tasted death nor felte in sondrie thyngs Suche crossyng chance and froward fate as to her graue she brings Was neuer wight with troubles toste so sore and past them soe For in her breast from tender yeres a gulffe of greef did floe Scan that whiche best can skill of woe her sorrowes were so greate That when I waie a dram thereof my face and browes doe sweate But though she founde her fortune harde a staied mynde she bore A worthie hedde where sober witte by heapes laie hid in store Her gesture shewd from whence she came her words moste graue wyes And honours beame like burnyng Lampe did blase amid her eyes A presence that could freends cōmaunde and hold her foes full mute A noble harte where bounties budds did blome and beare good frute What needs more words to proue a trothe so rare her vertues were That who presumes to hit them right maie misse the marke I fere As you that mourne are cladde with blacke in white her soule doeth shine Transformd frō fleshe to angels kinde or sacred shape deuine Where fortunes threate cā doe no harme nor worldly foile she fears And eche good ghost in glorie greate doeth make an ende of tears Her life my gaine her death my losse her fauour helpt my state Her laste farewell leaues freends behinde to waile the losse too late FINIS ¶ An Epitaphe of sir Nicholas Bacon Knight late Lorde Keeper THE lodestarre that good Pilotts likt crept vnder cloude of late A suddaine storme hath knapt in twoo a staffe of publicke s●ate Out of our goodlie golden Ryng is falne a precious stone The lande that sutche a Iewell lacks hath cause to morne and mone The babes that seeth their parents dye of duetie sheds some teares But when a Pillar falleth doune that countries burthen beares The common wealth doeth bide a shocke and ioynts in sonder shake If not in steade of auncient propp a newe defence we make A father to all forward witts who fostred lawe and right A Sunne that shone through highest clouds yet gaue belowe greate light Who will not waile that knowes the want well Englande sutche a glas Shall seldome shine in thee againe as worthie Bacon was A flood of sence and sugred sappe came flowyng from his braine Ne Tulles toung nor Petracks penne nor stoute wise Catoes vaine Maie not surmount the philed phrase and reche of Bacons hedd His voice was smothe as Organe pipe and looke what Bacon sedd Was held for Lawe iudgement greate the sentence was so swete The words were of so deepe a fetche and sprong from suche a sprete He spent no speeche nor words in waste and where his promes past Performance hasted out of hande and followd on as faste To God to Prince and Iustice rules a greate regard he tooke Not on the man but on the cause and matter would he looke Disposde and bente to doe muche good but namely vnto those To whom dame vertues learned lore did gifts of grace disclose His countries care cutts of his daies and brings thē dim dark night That wisely cannot waye the weight and worth of sutche a wight He liues in laude and lanterne like he lastes with blasyng fame We die world weares out our praise where shines his noble name Moste noble are those burnyng lampes moste clerest light thei shoe That leaues a torche which giues vs light whē hēce frō vs thei goe FINIS ¶ Sir Hugh Pauletts Epitaphe NO verse a vailes ne teares maie serue to waile the want at full My witts are weake my words but bare my penne but base and dull To frame in forme and stately stile the lines I ought to write I finde my muse orecome with cares my reason banishe quite My hedde so fraught with cold conceits of newes I knowe full well That I had rather crie and rore and shrillie houle and yell Then treate of dreadfull deaths despite who daiely doeth deuoure The noblest fruits of Natures mould and pluckes the purest flowre Death neither looks on mens renowne nor who maie best be spard But like a Theef stealls life awaie and striks without regard Not takyng those that vertue wants and fills the worlde with vice But snapps vp suche that people praise worlde holds moste in price As loe of late to well was seen when Paulet left his life Forsooke his freends desired the graue and went from worthy wife To liue and lodge in loftie Skies where blessed angells are And good mens souls doe suretie finde and rest from worldly care No maruell though our troubled sprits doe make a swete exchange And leaues this sowre and bitter soile and will some coūtrie strāge To goe where Gods in glorie sitts and where our home must bee Yet in my mynde suche partyng is a wonder greate to see When men by toile and labour long haue purchast suche a praise Attainde to wealth and honour bothe through seruice sondrie waies And on the suddaine leaue these pomps and

A pleasaunte Laborinth called Churchyardes Chance framed on Fancies vttered with verses and writtē to giue solace to eury well disposed mynde wherein notwithstanding are many heauie Epitaphes sad and sorowfull discourses and sutche a multitude of other honest pastymes for the season and passages of witte that the reader therein maie thinke his tyme well bestowed All whiche workes for the pleasure of the worlde and recreation of the worthie are dedicated to the right honourable sir Thomas Bromley knight lorde Chancelour of Enlande ¶ Imprinted at London by Ihon Kyngston 1580. ¶ To the right honourable Sir Thomas Bromley Knight Lorde Chauncellour of Englande one of the Quenes Maiesties priuie Councell Thomas Churchyarde wisheth greate blessednesse of life continuance of vertue and perfite felicitie AS custome and continuaunce of tyme bredes a lawe in Nature and cōuertes mannes mynde to many a laudable excercise so moste honourable the good will of men is neuer vnoccupied if either honest labour or stdious diligence maie please those greate personages that affection and duetie commaundes vs to honor And as it hath bin through tyme out of mynde an auncient maner in the beginnyng of a newe yere to present vnto freendes and sutche as we beste fauour some signe of freendshipp by waie of newe yeres giftes so I trust the maner so mutche commended emong the wise and so long vsed with all sortes of people for the purchasyng of good liking shall excuse my ouer greate boldnesse and make my simple gifte accepted For as I vnderstande and my betters farre haue reported it is not the valewe of the presentes nor the ritchnesse of the Iewels that makes our giftes welcome and bringes the giuer in the good opiniō of the worthies in this worlde but it is the vertuous intent of the minde that maketh free passage to that whiche is presented and causeth as well little trifles to bee estemed as greate treasure to bee made of If otherwise the worthinesse of thynges were to be iudged my triflyng booke might blushe in my behalfe and the vaine verses therein would rather argue my disgrace then further my good fame And therefore my good Lorde since euery mans gift is receiued waied accordyng to the good will of the giuer I haue this present new yeres daie presented vnto your good Lordshipp good Chaunce and so with this good Chaunce salutyng your honor with all seruisable dueties I honor your Lordshipps vertues procede to the purpose of my matter The people of this worlde whose sondrie wittes and iudgementes lookes deepely into the deuises of the writers in our age if thei would straitly and narrowly beholde how busie I haue bin in settyng out bookes and printyng of pamfletts might paraduenture make a wonder of my wearisome woorkes for that many woordes hath bin spent to little profite either of my Countrey or commoditie to my self because my small learnyng and capacitie could neuer reche to any greate knowledge nor searche out the ground of any profounde seeret or science But how so euer my woorkes maie bee construed my penne hath kept me from slothe and Idelnesse and little hath bin loste by my studie and labors For freendes and fauourars hath bin gotten through diligence and tyme hath bin entertained in muche contentation of minde And though it was my Chaunce to light on a pleasant disposition in making of verses whē others happened by Fortunes election on a multitude of benifites yet blessed is the Chaunce that breedeth merrie thoughtes and vnlodes the harte and hedde of a nomber of heauie cogitations For though small abilitie simple callyng bryngeth no greate reputation and credite yet it sitteth free from the bitter blaste of Fortunes tempestes VVhen the mindes of the mightie are shocked and shaken with the blusteryng stormes of worldes vnstablenesse And though my Chaunce was to trauaill abroade to seeke after Fortune whiles others at home found themselues happie yet beyng so smally prefarred by Chaunce euery where I am neither troubled with her mutabilitie nor driuen to giue her thankes for any good tourne she hath doen me And yet my Chaunce is indifferent that bothe in warres and peace possessyng my little portion I haue seen thousandes depart from this worlde and sodainly taken from their abondance My chance is to be in court well knowen and mutche made of though smally considered or aduaunced My Chaunce is to liue awhile and write Epitaphes Sonets and sedules on many a worthie personage whiles my life and footesteps drawes the bodie to his long home and leades the restlesse daies to the quiet graue And so as Chance hath fallen out and alotted me by a bond of causes through the originall ground of all goodnesse the pleasure of penne and the pain of studie euen so in like maner I gladly plaie out my part on the stage in this toilesome and tragicall pilgrimage where nothyng easeth our labours so mutche as the sweete contentatiō of minde But to what purpose trouble I your honourable iudgement and grauitie with the rehersall of trifles or why doeth rashenesse in so bolde a maner dedicate sutche a woorke scarce worthie the looking on to sutche a worthie Magistrate whose wisedome maie disdaine the reading of so simple a discourse The trothe is my right good Lorde this present is offered as a peece of a meane to passe awaie the tyme amid great affaires and weightie causes whiche with light matters findes recreation by the inuention of pretie deuised sportes the studie and care of commonweale seemeth lesse tedius and troublesome For the minde wearied with ouer long labours and sadde motions of the spirite that through continuaunce maie dull the senses is sharpened and made better at commaundement when chaunge of pastymes with some pleasaunt exercises hath eased the bodie and refreshed the memorie My verses God wot are voide of sutche deuine vertue And I wantyng the grace of Mercurie or Pipe of Appollo presumeth to farre to please the eares of Minerua with the rashe sounde of rusticall Musicke But though the harmonie be not so sweete and delicate as is to be wished the desire to doe well is the instrument onely that maie bryng suche delite whiche maie for euer purchace good acceptation And for that to the art of Musicke and harmonie belongeth seuerall sortes of partes to make good concordance I haue tuned all my notes and songes worthie the hearyng into one kind of voice and order Meanyng that where many a peece of descant is to bee seen and some iarres maie happen by misliking of discordes yet a nomber of partes soundyng together maie couer the faultes and imperfectiōs of an ignoraunt Musition And because in the sweete soile of Salop in whiche parties your Lordshippe was nourished whiche seate I honour of nature and toke some sauor and taste of Science in the gladder are my muses to reuerence with verses a speciall sparke and spectacle of the countrey I was borne in either with Musicall melodie or Poeticall pastymes and passages delated

my hed sutche toyes as this doeth spring for lacke of sleepe FINIS This showes the vanitie of some hopes WHo liu's in hope doeth dye in deepe dispaire He lackes that looks how luckie lotts doe light Thei feele foule storms that hopes for weather faire And want cleere daie that waites to scape the night Hope hates his state and present fitte he feels And gropes for chaunce at churlishe Fortunes heel's He showes some greef that after medson seekes And pleadeth paine that prouls for pleasure sweete Who hopes for foode doeth goe with hongrie cheekes And hangs doune hedde as one that wanteth spreete Although Dispaire is neighbour nexte the worste Who holdes by Hope is more then halfe a curste Full long the birde in cage on hope maie feede The Galley slaue the self same cace maie pleade Hope comes to late to sutche as stande in neede The happlesse hath a Laborinth to treade In daungers grace thei stande amid the flood Full farre from helpe when hope can doe no good If haste make waste and fall on point of knife Or sworde through harte vnto the hilts dorth ronne In sutche extremes what hope is left of life Or where in deede for harmes should helpe be wonne The banks broke doune the streame and flood flies out And nothyng staies behinde for hope nor doubt The prisner maie that is condempde to dye For pardon hope and yet to hangyng goe A mischeef comes whils men for mercie crie As horse doeth starue whils that the gresse doeth growe Hope seru's you knowe to heaue vp harts on height That flatte on floer maie Fortune strike them streight Finis The meetyng of twoo noble knightes of the Garter si Henry Sidney and the Erle of Essex in Irelande twoo miles beyond Dradath the xxj of September and 17. yere in the raigne of our souerain ladie Quene Elizabeth AS order is the staie of states a blisse to eurie age A knot of loue a bande of peace a rule y t gouerns rage So order drue two noble wights that of the order are To mete by order as it fell a sight full strāge and rare For seide is seen in Irishe soile where order doeth but glance That ij which doth y e garter were do mete by suche a chance The one an Erle a Mars more like that God of battaill is The other sutche a Mirror knowne as Irelande maie not mis. The one hath lighted sutche a Lampe where on the rest maie gase Yea all the torches in the lande waxe dim where this doeth blase The other hath through modest meanes and Marciall maners both Pluckt frō warme brest the peoples harts y t bears good wil to troth The bruite of these are blowne so far their names therby are known These are no Gemms of forraine mines but Iewells of our owne The more that Enuie hides their praise the bigger doe thei shine As cleere renowme were shrouded safe by secret power deuine In louyng league of well won laude these lordes their liu's do lead And through this thanklesse thwartyng world y e steps of honor tread Bothe bent to serue fitte therfore their ventures claimes thesame And bothe for greatnesse of their mindes doe merite equall fame A ioye to see suche iewels ioyne so thought the lookers on A pearle of price in any place agrees with precious stone The Gods thē selu's did make this matche through ordryng things a right The heauens cast of cloudie clokes and clapt on mantells light To showe how glad the Planetts were in meetyng nobles twaine When one the other fetcht to toune with sutche a troupe and traine The season sweete and Phebus shone so cleare from christall Skie As worlde were willyng to bestowe on them a welcome eye The Prince that hath suche members here is happie sondrie waies The soldiours that shall serue them bothe shall win immortal praies The people that by outward signes an inward meanyng knewe Bade sluggishe Muses whet their skill on matter worthie vewe Then tooke I penne and put in verse these thyngs w t great post hast In larger volume looke for more if this be well embrast FINIS Of my Lorde cheef Baron that was THe Sittern sweete whose siluer sounde the sloggards witts awakes Through chaunge and choice of notes newe founde a pleasant Musicke makes The Lute that best is likte of all a solempne noyes doeth yelde And moste delites the cunnyng heddes that in that arte are skilde The Harpe whose twang and stroke is strange is vsed eury where His many stryngs and warblyng sound so mutche delites the eare The milde Recorder hath a place where sweete Concordance is The Cornet and the Howboies bothe maie matche and sound w t this The Uirginall with quiet noyes must matched be I trowe The sliller that the Musick is the better doeth it showe But some had rather heare for chaunge a cherefull ryng of bells Who fains the noies doeth pearce the aire and thonder crack expels In elder daies when stormes arose and tempests rough did rore Thei loudly rang the halloude bell for cause I told before In tounes of warre where watche ward is kept with worthy gard The Larum bell that warnyng giues in deede maie ill be spard When Prince remoues the bells thei ryng at hie feasts and times In forraine lande a noble noies is made of bells and chimes The blest birthe daie of Kyngs and Queenes w t bells is honord still In signe of Princes happie raignes and Subiects greate good will A ryng of bells is heard farre of and pleaseth many a minde Now nere thei sound then farre thei seem as bloes the gale of winde But I delite in passyng Bell for that doeth plainly shoe As one from hence doeth take his leaue so hence we all must goe A passyng Bell then shall it be that makes best Musicke here It tings and tolls what we are worthe and sounds in eare so clere That eche man knowes the passyng Bell is best in these our daies Let Lute and Sutern then giue place and yeeld to Bell the praies FINIS ¶ Of a noble personage THe Sonne that shrouds in lowryng cloudie Skies Shines clere and faire when foggie Mists are gon The mornyng Starre that slepes long ere it rise Awakes them all that listes to looke thereon The hidden gold in treasure house that lies By showe of foile setts forthe a precious stone The graines of Corne that deepe in yearth remaines Sprouts vp at length and quitts the Plowmans paines So hartes opprest that heauie are a while Laughes greef to scorne when Fortune makes them smile The Birde in cage must suffer for a space Till freedome comes and makes her proue her wings The prisners poore maie purchace Princes grace And quenche their thirst where pleasant fountaine springs The mournyng minde maie shewe a cherefull face When merrie cause a present comfort bryngs No happe so harde no greef so greate I trowe But maie through tyme conuert to ioye from woe Then sigh no