triumphant gift From worldly cark he quite his weried ghost Free from the corps and straight to heauen it liâ—t Now deme that can who did for Denny most The king gaue welth but fading and vnsure Death brought him blisse that euer shall endure A comparison of the louers paines LYke as the brake within the riders hand Doth straine the horse nye wood with grief of pâ—inâ— Not vsed bâ—fore to coâ—e in such a bande Striueth for griefe although god wot in vain To be as erst he was at libertie But force of force doth straine the contrary EueÌ„ so since band doth cause my deadly grief That made me so my wofull chaunce lament Like thing hath brought me into paine mischiefe Saue willingly to it I did assent To binde the thing in fredome which was free That now full sore alas repenteth me Of a Rosâ—mary branche sent SUch grene to me as you haue sent Such grene to you I sende againe â— flowring hart that will not feint For drede of hope or losse of gaine A stedfast thought all wholy bent So that he may your grace obtaine As you by proofe haue alwayes sene To liue your owne and alwayes grene To his loue of his constant haâ—t AS I haue bene so will I euer be Unto my dâ—ath and lenger if I myghtâ— Haue I of loue the frendly lokyng eye Haue I of fortune fauour or despitâ— I am of rock by proofe as you may see Not â—â—ade of waxe nor of no metall light As leefe to dye by chaunge as to deceaue Or breake the promise â—ade And so I leauâ— Of the token which his loue sent him THe golden apple that the Troyan boy Gaue to Uenus the fayrest of the thre Which was the cause of all the wrack of Troy Was not receiued with a greater ioy Then was the same my loue thou sent to me It healed my sore it made my sorowes free It gaue me hope it banisht mine annoy Thy happy hand full oft of me was blist That can geue such a salue when that thou list Manhode auaileth not without good Fortune THe Cowerd oft whom deinty viandes fed That bosted much his ladies eares to please By helpe of them whom vnder him he led Hath reapt the palme y e valiance could not cease The vnexpert y t shores vnknowen neare sought whom Neptune yet apaled not with feare In wandring shippe on trustles seas hath tought The skill to fele that time to long doth leare The sâ—ortiÌ„g knight that scoâ—neth Cupides kinde With fained chere the pained cause to brede In game vnhides the leden sparkes of minde And gaines the gole where glowing flames shold spede Thus I see proofe y t trouth maÌ„ly hart May not auaile if fortune chaunce to start That constancy of all vertues is most worthy THough in the waxe a perfect picture made Doth shew as faire as in the marble stone Yet do we see it is estemed of none Because that fier or force the forme doth fade Wheras the marble holden is ful dere Since that endures the date of lenger dayes Of Diamondes it is the greatest praiseâ— So long to last and alwaies one tappere Then if we do esteme that thing for best Which in perfection lengâ—st time doth last And that most vaine y t turnes with euery blast What â—ewel then with tâ—ng can be exprest Like to that hart wher loue hath framed such feth That caÌ„ not fade but by y e force of death The vncertaine state of of a louer LYke as the rage of raine Filles riuers with excesse And as the drought againe Doth draw tâ—em lesse and lesse So I both fall and clyme With no and yea sometime As they swell hye and hye So doth encrease my state As they fall drye and drye So doth my wealth abate As yea is mixt with no. So mirth is mixt with wo. As nothing can endure That liues and lackes reliefe So nothing can stande sure Where chaunge doth raignâ— as chiefe Wherefore I must intende To bowe when others bende And when they laugh to smile And when they wepe to waileâ— And when they craft begile And when they fight asâ—aile And thinke there is no chaunge Can make them seme to strangeâ— Oh most vnhappy slaâ—e What man may leade this course To lacke he would faynest haue Or els to do much worse These be rewardes for such â—s liue and loue to much The louer in libertie smileth at them in thraldome that sometime scorned his bondage AT libertie I sit and see Them that haue erst laught me to scorne Whypt with the whip that scourged me And now they banne that they were borne I seâ— them sit full soberlyeâ— And thinke their earnest lokes to hide Now in them selues they can not spye That they or this in me haue spide I sâ—e them sitting all alone Markyng the steppes ech worde and loke And now they treade where I haue gone The painfull pathe that I forsoke Now I see well I saw no whit When they saw wel that now are blinde But happy hap hath made me quit And iust iudgement hath them assinde I see them wander all alone And treade full fast in dredfull dout The selfe same pathe that I haue gone Blessed be hap that brought me out At libertie all this I see And say no word but erst among Smiling at them that laught at me Lo such is hap marke well my song A comparison of his loue wyth the faithful and painful loue of Troylus to Creside I Read how Troylus serued in Troy A lady long and many a day And how he bode so great anoy For her as all the stories say That halfe the paine had neuer man Which had this wofull Troyan than His youth his sport his pleasant chereâ— His courtly state and company In him so straungely altred were With such a face of contrary That euery ioy became a wo This poyson new had turnde him so And what men thought might most him ease And most that for his comfort stode The fame did most his minde displease And set him most in furious mode For all his pleasure euer lay To thinke on her that was away His chamber was his comon walke Wherin he kept him secretly He made his bed the place of talke To heare his great extremity In nothing els had he delight But euen to be a martyr right And now to call her by her name And straight therwith to sigh and throbbe And when his fansies might not frame Then into teares and so to sobbe All in extreames and thus he lyes Making two fountaines of his eyes As agues haue sharpe shiftes of fits Of cold and heat successiuely So had his head like change of wits His pacience wrought so diuersly Now vp now down now here now there Like one that was he wist not where And thus though he were Prâ—ams sonne And comen of the kinges hye blood This care he had ere he her wonne Till she that was his mantresse good And lothe to
loue The frailtie and hurtfulnes of beautie BRittle beautie that nature made so fraile Wherof the gift is small and short the season Flowring to day to morowe apt to faile Tickell treasure abhorred of reason Daugerous to dele with vaine of none auaile Costly in keping past not worthe two peason Slipper in sliding as is an eles taile Hard to attaine once gotten not geason Iewel of ieopardie that perill doth assaile False and vntrue enticed oft to treason Enmy to youth that most may I bewaile Ah bitter swete infecting as the poyson Thou farest as frute that with the frost is taken To day redy ripe to morowe all to shaken A complaint by night of the louer not beloued ALas so all things now do hold their peace Heauen and earth disturbed in nothing The beasts the ayre the birdes their song do cease The nightes chare the starres about doth bring Calme is the Sea the waues worke lesse and lesse So am not I whom loue alas doth wring Bringing before my face the great encrease Of my desires whereat I wepe and sing In ioy and wo as in a doutfull ease For my swete thoughtes sometime do pleasure bring But by and by the cause of my disease Geues me a pang that inwardly doth sting When that I thinke what griefe it is againe To liue and lacke the thing should ridde my paine How eche thing saue the louer in spring reuiueth to pleasure WHen Windsor walles susteyned my wearied arme My hand my chin to ease my restles hed Set pleasant plots reuested green with warme The blossomd bowes with â—â—sty Ueryspred The flowred meades the wedded birdes so late Mine eyes discouer and to my minde resorte The ioly woes the hatelesse shorte debate The râ—kchell life that longes to loues disporte Wherewith alasâ— the heauy charge of care Heapt in my brest breakes forth against my will In smoky sighes that ouercast the ayre My vapord eyes suche drery teares distill The tender spring which quicken where they fall And I halfbent to throw me down withall Vow to loue faithfullie howsoeuer he be rewarded SEt me wheras the Sunne do parche the grene Or where his beames do not dissolue the yse In temperate heat where he is felt and sene In presence prest of people madde or wise Set me in hye or yet in low degree In longest night or in the shortest day In clearest skie or where clowdes thickest be In lusty youth or when my heares are gray Set me in heauen in earth or els in hell In hill or dale or in the foming flood Thrall or at large aliue where so I dwell Sicke or in healthâ— in â—uyll faine or good Hers will I be and onely with this thought Content my selfe although my chaunce be nought Complaint that his ladie after she knew of his loue kept her face alway hidden from him I Neuer saw my Ladie laye apart Her cornet blacke in cold nor yet in heate Sith first she knew my griefe was growen so great Which other fansies driueth from my hart That to my selfe I do the thought reserue The which vnwares did wounde my woful brest For on her face mine eyes mought neuer rest Sins that she knew I did her loue and serue Her golden tresse is clad alway with blacke Her smiling lokes to hide thus euermore And that restraines which I desire so sore So doth this corner gouerne my alacke In somer sunne in winters breath of frost Wherby the light of her faire lokes I lost Request to his loue to ioyne bountie with beautie THe golden gift that nature did thee geue To fasten frendes and feede them at thy wyll With fourme and fauour taught me to beleue How thow art made to shew her greatest skill Whose hidden vertues are not so vnknowen But liuely domes might gather at the furst Where beauty so her perfect seede hath sowen Of other graces folow nedes there must Now certesse Garret sins all this is true That from aboue thy giftes are thus elect Do not deface them than with fansies newe Nor change of mindes let not thy minde infect But mercy him thy frende that doth thee serue Who seekes alway thine honour to preserue Prisoned in windsor he recounteth his pleasure there passed SO cruell prison how could betide alas As proude Windsor where I in lust and ioy With a kinges sonne my childishe yeres did passe In greater feastes than Priams sonnes of Troy Where eche swete place returns a taste full sower The large grene courtes where we were wont to hone With eyes cast vp into the maydens tower And easie sighes such as folke drawe in loue The stately seates the ladies bright of hewe The daunces short long tales of great delight with wordes and lokes that tigers could but rewe Where eche of vs did pleade the others right The palme play where dispoiled for the game with dazed eies oft we by gleames of loue Haue mist the ball and got sight of our dame To baite her eies which kept the leads aboue The grauell ground with sleues tied on the helme On foming horse with swordes and frendly hartes With cheare as though one should another whelme Where we haue fought and chased oft with dartes with siluer droppes the meade yet spred for ruth In actiue games of nimblenes and strength Where we did straine trained with swarmes of youth Our tender limmes that yet shot vp in length The secret groues which oft we made resound Of pleasaunt plaint and of our ladies praise Recording oft what grace eche one had found what hope of spede what dread of long delaies The wilde forest the clothed holtes with grene With rains auailed and swift ybreathed horse With crie of houndes and mery blastes betwene Where we did chase the fearfull hart of force The wide vales eke that harborde vs ech night Wherwith alas reuiueth in mâ— brest The swete accord such slepes as yet delight The pleasant dreames the quiet bed of rest The secrete thoughtes imparted with such trust The wanton talke the diuers change of play The frenship sworne eche promise kept so iust wherwith we past the winter nightes away And with this thought the bloud forsakes the face The teares beâ—aine my chekes of deadly hewe The which as soone as sobbing sighes â—alas Upsupped haue thus I my plaint renew O place of blisse renuer of my woes Geue me accompt where is my noble fere Whom in thy walles thou doest eche night enclose To other leefe but vnto me most dere Eccho alas that doth my sorow rewe Returns therto a hollow sound of plaint Thus I alone where all my freedome grewe In prison pyne with bondage and restraint And with remembrance of the greater griefe To banish the lesse I finde my chief reliefe The louer comforteth himselfe with the worthinesse of his loue VVHen raging loue with extreme payne Most cruelly distrains my hart When that my teares as floods of rayne Beare witnes of my wofull smart When sighes haue wasted so my breath That
I lye at the point of death I call to minde the nauie great That the Grekes brought to Troye town And how the boysteous windes did beate Their ships and rent their sayles adown Till Agamemnons daughters blood Appeaâ—de the Gods that them withstood And how that in those ten yeres warre Full many a bloodie dede was done And many a lord that came full farre There caught his bane alas to soone And many a good knight ouerron Before the Grekes had Helene won Then thinck I thus sithe such repaire So long time warre of valiant men Was all to winne a lady faire Shall I not learne to suffer then And thinck my life well spent to be Seruing a worthier wight than she Therfore I neuer will repent But paines contented still endure For like as when rough winter spent The pleasant spring straight draweth in vre So after raging stormes of care Ioyfull at length may be my fare Complaint of the absence of her louer being vpon the sea O Happy damâ—s that may embrace The frute of your belight Help to bewaile the wofull case And eke the heauy plight Of me that wonted to reioyce The fortune of my pleasant choyce Good ladies help to fill my moorning voycâ— In ship freight with remembrance Of thoughts and pleasures past He sailes that hath in gouernance My life while it will last With scalding sighes for lack of gale Furdering his hope that is his sail Toward me the swete port of his auailâ— Alas how oft in dreames I see Those eyes that were my food Which somtime so delited me That yet they do me good Wherwith I wake with his returne Whose absent flame did make me burne But when I finde the lacke Lord how I mourne When other louers in armes acrosse Reioyce their chiefe delight Drowned in teares to mourne my losse I stand the bitter night In my window where I may see Before the windes how the clowdes â—lee Lo what a Mariner loue hath made me And in grene waues when the salt flood Doth rise by rage of winde A thousand fansies in that mood Assaile my restlesse minde Alas now drencheth my swete fo That with the spoyle of my hart did go And left me but alas why did he so And when the seas ware calme againe To chase fro me annoye My doutful hope doth cause me plaine So dread cuts of my ioye Thus is my wealth mingled with wo And of eche thought a dout doth growe Now he comes will he come alas no no. Complaint of a diyng louer refused vpon his ladies iniust mista king of his writing IN winters iust returne when Borâ—as gan his raigne And euery tree vnclothed fast as nature taught them plaine In misty morning darke as sheepe are then in holde I hyed me fast it sat me on my sheepe for to vnfolde And as it is a thing that louers haue by fittes Under a palme I heard one cry as he had lost his wittes Whose voyce did ring so shrill in vttering of his plaint That I amazed was to heare how loue could him attaint Ah wretched man quod he come death and ridde this wo A iust reward a happy end if it may chauuce thee so Thy pleasures past haue wrought thy wo without redresse If thou hadst neuer felt no ioy thy smart had bene the lesse And retchlesse of his life he gan both sighe and grone A rufull thing me thought it was to hear him make such mone Thou cursed pen sayd he wo worth the bird thee bare The man the knife and all that made thee wo be to their share Wo worth the time and place where I so could enditâ— And wo be it yet once againe the pen that so can write Unhappy hand it had ben happy time for me If when to write thou learned first vnioynted hadst thou be Thus cursed he himself and euery other wight Saue her alone whom loue him bound to serue both day night Which when I heard and saw how he himself fordid Against the ground with bloody strokes himself euen ther to rid Had ben my heart of flint it must haue melted tho For in my life I neuer sawe a man so full of wâ— With teares for his redresse I rashly to him ran And in my armes I caught him fast and thus I spake him than What woful wight art thou that in such heauy case Tormentes thy selfe with such despite here in this desert place Wherwith as al agast fulfâ—ld with irâ— and dred He cast on me â—â—â—ring loke with colour pale and ded Nay wh 〈…〉 ou quod he that in this heauâ— plight Doest find 〈◊〉 most wofull wretch that life hath in despighte I am quot◠〈◊〉 out poore and simple in degre A shepardes charge I haue in hand vnworthy though I be With that he gaue a sighe as though the skie shold fall And lowd alas he shriked oft and Shepard gan he call Come hie the fast at ones and print it in thy hart So thou shalt know and I shall tell the giltlesse how I smart His back against the tree sore febled al with faint With weary sprite he stretcht him vp and thus he told his plaint Ones in my hart quoth he it chaunced me to loue Such one in whom hath nature wrought her cuÌ„ning for to proue And sure I can not say but many yeres were spent with such good will so recompenst as both we were content Wherto then I me bound and she likewise also The sunne should runne his course awry ere we this faith forgo who ioied then but I who had this worldes blisse Who might compare a life to mine that neuer thought on this But dwelling in this truth amid my greatest ioy Is me befallen a greater losse then Priam had of Troy She is reuersed clene and beareth me in hand That my deserts haue geuen her cause to breke this faithful band And for my iust excuse auaileth no defence Now knowest thou all I can no more but shepheard hie the heÌ„ce And geue him leaue to dye that may no lâ—nger liue Whose record lo I claime to haue my death I do forgeue And eke when I am gone be bolde to speake it plaine Thou hast seen dye the truest man that euer loue did paine Wherwith he turned him round and gaspyng oft for breath Into his armes a tree he raughtâ— and said welcome my death welcome a thousand folde now dearer vnto me Than should without her loue to liue an emperour to be Thus in this wofull state he yelded vp the ghost And little knoweth his lady what a louer she hath lost Whose death when I beheld no maruail was it right For pitye though my hart did blede to se so piteous sight My blood from heat to colde oft changed wonders sore A thousande troubles there I found I neuer knew before Twene drede and dolour so my sprites were brought in feare That long it wâ—s ere I could call to minde what I did there But as ech thing hath end
relefe And I enforced all to fede Upon the frutes of bitter grefe Of womens changeable will I Wold I found not as I fele Such changyng chere of womens will By fickle flight of fortunes whele By kinde or custome neuer still So shold I finde no fault to lay On fortune for their mouyng minde So should I know no cause to say This change to chance by course of kinde So should not loue so work my wo To make death surgeant for my sore So should their wittes not wander so So should I reck the lesse therfore The louer complayneth the losse of his ladye NO ioy haue I but liue in heauinesse My dame of price bereft by fortunes cruelnesse My hap is turned to vnhappinesse Unhappy I am vnlesse I finde relesse My pastime past my youthlike yeres are gone My mouthes of mirth my glistring daies of gladsomnesse My times of triumph turned into mone Unhappy I am vnlesse I finde relesse My wonted winde to chaunt my cherefull chaunce Doth sigh that song somtime the balades of my lesse My sobbes my sore and sorow do aduaunce Unhappy I am vnlesse I finde relesse I mourne my mirth for grefe that it is gone I mourne my mirth wherof my musing mindefulnesse Is ground of greater grefe that growes theron Unhappy I am vnlesse I finde relesse No ioy haue I for fortune frowardly Hath bent her browes hath put her hand to cruelnesse Hath rest my dame constrayned me to crye Unhappy I am vnlesse I finde relesse Of the golden meane THe wisest way thy bote in waue and winde to guie Is neither still the trade of middle streame to trie Ne warely shunnyng wrecke by wether aye to me To presse vpon the perillous shore Both clenely flees he silthe ne wonnes a wretched wight In carlish coate and carefull court aâ—e thrall to spite With port of proud astate he leues who doth delight Of golden meane to hold the lore Stormes rifest rende the sturdy stout pineapple tâ—e Of lofty ruing towers the fals the feller be Most fers doth lightenyng light where furthest we do se. The hilles the valey to forsake well furnisht brest to bide eche chanses changing chear In woe hath chearfull hope in weal hath warefull fear One self Ioue winter makes with lothfull lokes appear That can by course the same asâ—ake What if into mishap thy case now casten be It forceth not such forme of luck to last to thee Not alway bent is Phebus bow his harpe and he Ceast siluer sound sometime doth raise In hardest hap vse helpe of hardy hopefull hart Seme bold to beare the brunt of fortune ouerthwart Eke wisely when forewinde to full breathes on thy part Swage swellyng saile and doubt decayes The praise of a true frende WHo so that wisely weyes the profite and the price Of thinges wherin delight by worth is wont to rise Shall finde no iewell is so rich ne yet so rare That with the frendly hart in value may compare What other wealth to man by fortune may befall But fortunes changed chere may reue a man of all A frend no wracke of wealth no cruell cause of wo Can force his frendly faith vnfrendly to forgo If fortune frendly fawne and lend thee welthy store Thy frendes conioyned ioy doth make thy ioy the more If frowardly she frown and driue thee to distresse His ayde releues thy ruthe and makes thy sorow lesse Thus fortunes pleasant frutes by frendes encreased be The bitter sharp and sowre by frendes alayde to thee That when thou doest reioyce then doubled is thy ioy And eke in cause of care the lesse is thy anoy Aloft if thou do liue as one appointed here A stately part on stage of worldly state to bere Thy frende as only free from fraud will thee aduise To rest within the rule of mean as do the wise He seeketh to foresee the peril of thy fall He findeth out thy faultes and warnes thee of them all Thee not thy luck he loues what euer be thy case He is thy faithfull frend and thee he doth embrace If churlish cheare of chance haue thrown thee into thrall And that thy nede aske ayde for to releue thy fall In him thou secret trust assured art to haue And succour not to seke before that thou can craue Thus is thy frende to thee the comfort of thy paine The stayer of thy state the doubler of thy gaine In wealth and wo thy frend an other self to thee Such man to man a God the prouerb sayth to be As welth will bring thee frendes in louring wo to proue So wo shall yeld thee frendes in laughing wealth to loue With wisedome chuse thy frend with vertue him retaine Let vertue be the ground so shall it not be vaine The louer lamenteth other to haue the frutes of his seruice SOme men would think of right to haue For their true meaning some reward But while that I do cry and craue I see that other be preferd I gape for that I am debard I fare as doth the hound at hatch The worse I spede the lenger I watch My wastefull will is tried by trust My fond fansie is mine abuse For that I would refraine my lust For mine auaile I cannot chuse A will and yet no power to vse A will no will by reason iust Sins my will is at others lust They eate the hony I hold the hyue I sow the sede they reape the corne I waste they winne I draw they driue Theirs is the thanke mine is the scorne I seke they spede in waste my winde is worne I gape they get and gredely I snatch Till wurse I spede the lenger I watch I fast they fede they drink I thurst They laugh I wayle they ioy I mourne They gayne I lose I haue the wurst They whole I sicke they cold I burne They leape I lye they slepe I tosse and turne I would they may I craue they haue at will That helpeth them lo cruelty doth me kill Of the sutteltie of crafty louers SUch waiward waies haue some wheÌ„ folly stirres their braines To fain plain full oft of loue when lest they fele his paines And for to shew a griefe such craft haue they in store That they can halt and lay a salue wheras they fele no sore As hound vnto the foote or dog vnto the bow So are they made to vent her out whom bent to loue they know That if I should discribe one hundred of their driftes Two huÌ„dred wits beside mine owne I should put to their shiftes No woodman better knowes how for to lodge his dere Nor shipman on the sea that more hath skill to guide the stere Nor beaten dogge to herd can warer chose his game Nor scholeman to his fansie can a scholer better frame Then one of these which haue old Ouids arte in vre Can seke the wayes vnto their minde a woman to allure As round about a hyue the Bees do swarme alway So rouÌ„d about the house they prease
endles fame A goodly meane both to deterre from crime And to her steppes our sequele to enflame In daies of truth if Wiates frendes then waile The only det that dead of quick may claime That rare wit spent employd to our auaile where Christ is taught we led to vertues traine His liuely face their brestes how did it freat Whose cindres yet with enuy they do eate Of Sardanapalus dishonorable life and miserable death THassirian king in peace with foule desireâ— And filthy lustes that staind his regal hart In warre that should set princely hartes on fire Did yeld vanquisht for want of marciall art The dint of swordes from kisses semed strange And harder than his ladies side his targe From glutton feastes to soâ—ldiars fare a change His helmet farre aboue a garlands charge Who scace the name of manhode did retain Drenched in slouth and womanish delight Feble of sprite impacient of pain When he had lost his honor and his right Proud time of wealthâ— in stormes appalled with dred Murthered himself to shew some manful dede How no age is content with his owne eâ—tate and how the age of children is the happiest if they had skill to vnderstand it Lâ—yd in my quiet bed in study as I were I saw within my troubled head a heape of thoughtes appere And euery thought did sheweso liuely in myne eyes That now I sighed theÌ„ I smilde as cause of thought dyd rise I saw the litle boy in thought how oft that he Did wish of god to scape the â—â—d a tall yongman to be The yongman eke that feles his bones with paines opprest How he would be a rich olde man to lyue and lye at rest The rych oldman that sees his end draw on so sore How he would be a boy again to liue so much the more Wherat full oft I smilde to se how all these three From boy to man from man to boy would chop change degree And musing thus I think the case is very strange That man from welth to liue in wo doth euer seke to change Thus thoughtfull as I lay I saw my witherd skyn How it doth show my dented chewes the flesh was worne so thynâ— And eke my tothelesse chaps the gates of my rightway That opes and shuts as I do speake doe thus vnto me say Thy white and horish heares the messengers of age That shew like lines of true belife that this life doth asswage Byds thee lay hand and fele them hanging on thy chin The which do write two ages past the third now comming in Hang vp therfore the bit of thy yong wanton time And thou that therin beaten art the happiest life define Wherat I sighed and sayd farewell my wontedâ—ioy Trusse vp thy pack and trudge from me to euery litle boy And tell them thus from me their time most happy is If to their time they reason had to know the trueth of this Bonum est mihi quod humiliasti me THe stormes are past these cloudes are ouerblowne And humble chere great rigour hath represt For the defaute is set a paine fore knowne And pacience graft in a determed brest And in the hart wher heapes of griefes were growne The swete reuenge hath planted mirth and rest No company so pleasant as mine owne Thraldom at largeâ—hath made this prison fre Danger wel past remembreâ— workes delight Of lingring doubtes such hope is sprong pardie That nought I finde displeasaunt in my sight But when my glasse presented vnto me The curelesse wound that bledeth day and night To think alas such hap shoud graunted be Unto a wretch that hath no hart to fight To spill that blood that hath so oft bene shed For Britannes sake alas and now is ded Exhortacion to learne by others trouble MY Ratclâ—f when thy retchlesse youth offendes Receue thy scourge by others chastisement For such calling when it workes none amendes Then plages are sent without aduertisement Yet Salomon said the wronged shall recure But Wiaâ— said true the skarre doth aye endure The fansie of a weried louer THe fansy which that I haue serued long That hath alway bene enmy to myne ease Semed of late to rue vpon my wrong And bad me flye the cause of my misease And I forthwith did prease out of the throng That thought by flight my painfull hart to please Som other way tyll I saw faith more strong And to my self I said alas those daies In vayn were spent to runne the race so long And with that thought I met my guyde that playn Out of the way wherin I wandred wrong Brought me amiddes the hilles in base Bullayn Where I am now as restlesse to remayn Against my will full pleaâ—ed with my payn SVRREY The louer for shamefastnesse hideth his desire within his faithfull hart THe long loue that in my thought I harber And in my hart doth kepe his residence Into my face preaseth with bold pretence And there campeth displaying his banner She that me learns to loue and to suffer And willes that my trust and lustes negligencâ— Be reined by reason shame and reuerence With his hardinesse takes displeasure Wherwith loue to the hartes forest he fleeth Leauing his enterprise with paine and crye And there him hideth and not appeareth What may I do when my maister feareth But in the field with him to liue and dye For good is the life ending faithfully The louer waxeth wiser and will not die for affeccion YEt was I neuer of your loue agreued Nor neuer shall while that my life doth last But of hating my self that date is past And teares continuall sore hath me weried I will not yet in my graue be buried Nor on my tombe your name haue fixed fast As cruel cause that did my sprite sone hast From thunhappy boones by great sighes stirred Then if an hart â—f amorous faith and will Content your minde withouten doing grief Please it you so to this to do relief If other wise you seke for to fulfyll â—our wrath you erre and shall not as you wene 〈◊〉 you your self the cause therof haue bene The abused louer seeth his folie and entendeth to trust no more VVAs neuer file yet half so well yfiled To file a file for any smithâ—s entent As I was made a filing instrument To frame other while that I was begâ—led But reason loc hath at my foly smiled And pardoned me sins that I me repent Of my last yeres and of my time mispent For youth led me and falshod me misguided Yet this trust I haue of great apparence Sins that diâ—ceit is ay returnable Of very force it is agreable That therwithall be done the recompence Then gile begiled playnd should be neuer And the reward is little trust for euer The louer describeth his being striken with sight of his loue THe liuely sparkes that issue from those eyes Against the which there vaâ—â—eth no defence Haue perst my hart and done it none offence With quaking pleasure more then once
he to sting And for to tell at last my great seruise From thousand dishonesties haue I him drawen That by my meanes him in no maner wise Neâ—eâ— vile pleasure once hath ouerthrowen wheâ—â— in his dede shame hath him alwaies gnawen Dâ—â—ting râ—port that should come to her eare Whom now he blames her wonted he to feare What euer he hath of any honest custome Of her and me that holdes he euery whit But lo yet neuer was there nightly fantome So farre in errour as he is from his wit To plain on vs he striueth with the bit Which may rule him and do him ease and pain And in one hower make al his grief his gain But one thing â—â—t there is aboue all other I gaue him winâ—es wherwith he might vpflie To honour and fame and if he would to higher Then mortal thinges aboue the starry sâ—ie Considering the pleasure that an eye Might geue in earth by reason of the loue what should that be that lasteth still aboue And he the same himself hath sayd ere this But now forgotten is both that and I That gaue her him his onely wealth and blisse And at this word with dedly shreke and cry Thou gaue her once quod I but by and by Thou toke her ayen from me that wo worth the. Not I but price more worth than thou quod he At last eche other for himself concluded I trembling still but he with small reuerence Lo thus as we eche other haue accused Dere Ladâ— now we waite thine onely sentence She smiling at the whiâ—ted audience It liketh me quod she to haue heard your question But lenger time doth asâ— a resolucion The louers sorowfull state maketh him write sorowfull songes but Souche his loue may change the same MAruell no more altho The songes I sing do mone For other life then wo I neuer proued none And in my hart also Is grauen with letters dâ—â—e A thousand sighes and mo A flood of teares to wepe How may a man in smart Finde matter to reioyce How may a moorning hart Set foorth a pleasant voyce Play who so canâ— that part Nedes must in me appere How fortune ouâ—rthwart Doth cause my moorning chere Perdy there is no man If he saw neuer sight That perfitly tell can The nature of the â—ight Alas how should I than That neuer taste but sowre But do as I began Continually to lowre But yet perchance some chance May chance to change my tune And when Souch chance doth chance Then shall I thank fortune And if I haue Souch chance Perchance ere it be â—ong For Souch a pleasant chance To sing some pleasant song The louer complaineth himself forsaken VVHere shall I haue at mine owne wyll Teares to complain Where shall I set Such sighes that I may sigh my fill And then againe my plaintes repete For though my plaint shall haue none end My teares cannot suffise my wo. To mone my harm haue I no friend For fortunes friend is mishaps fo Comfort God wot els haue I none But in the winde to wast my wordes Nought moueth you my deadly mone But still you turne it into bordes I speake not now to moue your hart That you should rue vpon my pain The sentence geuen may not reuert I know such labour were but vain But sins that I for you my dere Haue lost that thing that was my best A right small losse it must appere To lese these wordes and all the rest But though they sparkle in the winde Yet shall they shew your falsed faith Which is returned to his kinde For like to like the prouerb saith Fortuneâ— and you did me auance Me thought I swam and could not drown Happiest of all but my mischance Did lift me vp to throw me down And you with her of cruelnesse Did set your foote vpon my neck Me and my welfare to oppresse without offence your hart to wreck Where are your pleasant wordes alas where is your faith your stedfastnesse There is no more but all doth passe And I am left all comfortlesse But sins so much it doth you greue And also me my wretched life Haue here my troth Nought shall releue But death alone my wretched strife Therfore farewell my life my death My gain my losse my salue my sore Farewell also with you my breath For I am gone for euermore Of his loue that pricked her finger with a nedle SHe sat and sowed that hath done me the wrong Wherof I plain and haue done in my â— day And whilst she heard my plâ—inâ— in pâ—â—eous song She wisht my hart the samplar that it layâ— The blinde master whom I haue serued so long Grudging to heare that he did heare her say Made her own weapon do her finger blede To fele if pricking were so good in dede Of the same VVHat man hath heard such cruelty before That when my plaint remembred her my wo That caused it she cruell more and more Wished eche stitche as she did sit and sow Had prickt my hart for to encrease my sore And as I think she thought it had been so For as she thought this is his hart in dede She pricked hard and made her self to blede Request to Cupide for reuenge of his vnkinde loue BEhold Loue thy power how she despiseth My greuous pain how litle she regardeth The solemne othe wherof she takes no cure Broken she hath and yet she bydeth sure Right at her ease and litle thee she drâ—dâ—â—h Weaponed thou art and she vnarmed sitteâ—â— To thee disdainfull all her lâ—fe she leadeâ—â—â— To me spitefull without iust cause or mâ—â—sure Behold Loue how proudly she triumpheth I am in hold but if thee pitie meueth Go bend thy bow that stony hartes breaketh And with some stroke reuenge the great displeasure Of thee and him that sorow doth endure And as his Lord thee lowly here entreateth Complaint for true loue vnrequited VVHat vaileth troth or by it to take payn To striue by stedfastnesse for to attain How to be iust and flee from doublenesse Since all alyke where ruleth carftinesse Rewarded is both crafty false and plain Soonest he spedes that most can lye and fayn True meaning hart is had in hiâ— disdain Against deceit and cloked doublenesse What vaileth troth or parfit stedfastnesse Deceaued is he by false and crafty trayn That meanes no gile and faithful doth remain Within the trapt without help or redresse But for to loue lo such a sterne maistresse Where cruelty dwelles alas it were in vain The louer that fled loue now folowes it with his harme SOmtime I fled the fire that me so brent By sea by land by water and by wynde And now the coales I folow that be quent From Douer to Calas with willing minde Lo how desire is both forth sprong and spent And he may see that whilom was so blinde And all his labour laughes he now to scorne Meashed in the breers that erst was onely torne The louer hopeth of better chance HE is
not dead that somtime had a fall The Sun returnesâ— that hid was vnder clowd And when Fortune hath spit out all her gall I trust good luck to me shall be alowd For I haue seen a ship in hauen fall After that storme hath broke both maste shroud The willow eke that stoupeth with the winde Doth rise againe and greater wood doth binde The louer compareth his hart to the ouercharged gonne THe furious goonne in his most raging yre When that the boule is rammed into sore And that the flame cannot part from the fireâ— Crackes in sunder and in the ayer do rore The sheuered peces So doth my desire Whose flame encreaseth ay from more to more Which to let out I dare not loke nor speake So inward force my hart doth all to breake The louer suspected of change praieth that it be not beleued against him ACcused though I be without desert Sith none can proue beleue it not for trueâ— For neuer yet since that you had my hert Intended I to false or be vntrue Sooner I would of death sustayn the smart Than breake one word of that I promised youâ— Accept therfore my seruice in good part None is alyue that can yll tonges eschew Hold them as false and let not vs depart Our frendship old in hope of any new Put not thy trust in such as vse to fayn Except thou minde to put thy frend to payn The louer abused renownseth loue MY loue to skorne my seruice to retayne Therin me thought you vsed crueltie Since with good will I lost my libertie Might neuer wo yet cause me to refrain But onely this which is extremitie To geue me nought alas nor to agree That as I was your man I might remain But since that thus ye list to order me That would haue bene your seruaÌ„t true fast Displease you not my doting time is past And with my losse to leaue I must agree For as there is a certain time to rage So is there time such madnes to aswage The louer professeth himself constant VVIthin my brest I neuer thought it gainâ— Of gentle mindes the fredom for to lose Nor in my hart sanck neuer such disdain To be a forger faultes for to disclose Nor I can not endure the truth to glose To set a glosse vpon an earnest pain Nor I am not in nomber one of those That list to blow retrete to euery train The louer sendeth his complaintes and teares to sue for grace PAsse forth my wonted cries Those cruel cares to pearce which in most hatefull wyse Doe stil my plaintes reuerse Doe you my teares also So wet her barrein hart That pitie there may grow And crueltie depart For though hard rockes among She semes to haue bene bred And of the Tigre long Bene nourished and fed Yet shall that nature change If pitie once win place Whom as vnknowen and strange She now away doth chase And as the water soft Without forcing or strength where that it falleth oft Hard stones doth perse at length So in her stony hart My plaintes at last shal graue And rygour set apart Winne graunt of that I craue Wherfore my plaintes present Stil so to her my sute As ye through her assent May bring to me some â—rute And as she shall me proue So bid her me regarde And render loue for loue Which is a iust reward The louers case can not be hidden how euer he dissemble YOur lokes so often cast Your eyes so frendly rolde Your sight fixed so fast Alwaies one to behold Though hyde iâ— fayn ye would It plainly doth declare Who hath your hart in hold And where good will ye bare Fayn would ye finde a cloke Your brennyng fire to hyde Yet both the flame and smoke Breakes out on euery syde Yee can not loue so guide That it no issue winnne Abrode nedes must it glide That brens so hote within For cause your self do wink Ye iudge all other blinde And secret it you think Which euery man doth finde In wast oft spend ye winde Your self in loue to quit For agues of that kinde Will show who hath the fit Your sighes you set from farre And all to wry your wo Yet are ye neare the narre Men ar not blinded so Depely oft swere ye no But all those othes ar vaine So well your eye doth show Who puttes your hart to paine Think not therfore to hide That still it selfe betraies Nor seke meanes to prouide To darke the sunny daies Forget those wonted waies Leaue of such frowning chere There will be found no staâ—es To stoppe a thing so clere The louer pâ—aieth not be disdained refused mistrusted nor forsaken DIsdaine me not without desert Nor leaue me not so sodenly Since well ye wot that in my hert I meane ye not but honestly Refuse me not without cause why For think me not to be vniust Since that by lot of fantasy This carefull knot nedes knit I must Mistrust me not though some there be That faine would spot my stedfastnesse Beleue them not sins that ye se The proofe is not as they expresse Forsake me not till I deserue Nor hate me not till I offend Destroy me not till that I swerue But sins ye know what I intend Disdaine me not that am your own Refuse me not that am so true Mistrust me not till all be known Forsake me not now for no new The louer lamenteth his estate with sute for grace FOr want of will in wo I plain Under colour of sobernesse Renewing with my sute my pain My wanhope with your stedfastnesse Awake therfore of gentlenesse Regard at length I you require My swelting paines of my desire Betimes who giueth willingly Redoubled thankes aye doth deserue And I that sue vnfainedly In frutelesse hope alas do sterue How great my cause is for to swerue And yet how stedfast is my sute Lo here ye see where is the frute As hound that hath his keper lost Seke I your presence to obtain In which my hart deliteth most And shall delight though I be slain You may release my band of pain Lose then the care that makes me cryâ— For want of helpe or els I dye I dye though not incontinent By processe yet consumingly As waste of fire which doth relent If you as wilfull will deny wherfore cease of such cruelty And take me wholy in your grace Which lacketh will to change his place The louer waileth his changed ioyes IF euery man might him auaunt Of fortunes friendly chere It was my selfe I must it graunt For I haue bought it dere And derely haue I held also The glory of her name In yelding her such tribute lo. As did set forth her fame Sometime I stoode so in her grace That as I would require Ech ioy I thought did me embrace That furdered my desire And all those pleasures lo had I That fansy might support And nothing she did me deny That was vnto my comfort I had what would you more
perde Ech grace that I did craue Thus fortunes will was vnto me All thing that I would haue But all to rathe alas the while She built on such a ground In litle space to great a guile In her now haue I found For she hath turned so her whele That I vnhappy man May waile the time that I dede fele Wherwith she fed me than For broken now are her behestes And plesant lookes she gaue And therfore now all my requestes From perill can not saue Yet would I well it might appere To her my chiefe regard Though my desertes haue been to dere To mâ—â—â—te such reward Sith fortunes will is now so bent To plage me thus poore man I must my selfe therwith content And beare it as I can To his loue that had geuen him answere of refusell THe answere that ye made to me my dere When I did sue for my poore hartes redresse Hath so appalde my countenance and my chere That in this case I am all comfortlesse Sins I of blame no cause can well expresse I haue no wrong where I can claime no right Nought tane me fro where I haue nothing had Yet of my wo I can not so be quite Namely sins that another may be glad With that that thus in sorow makes me sad Yet none can claime I say by former graunt That knoweth not of any graunt at all And by desert I dare well make auaunt Of faithfull will there is no where that shall Beare you more truth more ready at your call Now good then call againe that bitter word That toucht your friende so nere with panges of paine And say my dere that it was sayd in bord Late or to sone let it not rule the gaine Wherwith free will doth true desert retaine To his ladie cruel ouer her yelden louer SUch is the course that natures kinde hath wrought That snakes haue time to cast away their stinges Ainst chainde prisoners what nede defence be sought The fierce lyon will hurt no yelden thinges Why should such spite be nursed then thy thought Sith all these powers are prest vnder thy winges And eke thou seest and reason thee hath taught What mischief malice many wayes it bringes Consider eke that spight auaileth naught Therfore this song thy fault to thee it singes Displease the not for saiyng thus me thought Nor hate thou him from whom no hate forth springes For furies that in hell be execrable For that they hate are made most miserable The louer complaineth that deadly sicknesse can not helpe his affeccion THe enmy of life decayer of all kinde That with his cold withers away the grene This other night me in my bed did finde And offerd me to ryd my feuer clene And I dyd graunt so did dispaire me blinde He drew his bowâ— with arrowes sharpe and kene And strake the place wher loue had hit before And draue the first dart deper more and more The louer reioiceth the enioying of his loue ONce as me thought fortune me kist And bade me aske what I thought best And I should haue it as me list Therewith to set my hart in rest I asked but my ladies hart To haue for euermore myne owne Then at an end were al my smart Then should I nede no more to mone Yet for all that a stormy blast Had ouerturnde this goodly nay And fortune semed at the last That to her promise she said day But like as one out of dispayre To sodain hope reuiuedâ— I. Now fortune sheweth her selfe so faire That I content me wondersly My most desire my hand may reach My wyll is al way at my hand Me nede not long for to beseche Her that hath power me to commaunde What earthly thing more can I craue What would I wishe more at my will Nothing on earth more would I haue Saue that I haue to haue it styll For fortune now hath kept her promesse In graunting me my most desire Of my soueraigne I haue redresse And I content me with my hire The louer complaineth the vnkindnes of his loue MY lute awake performe the last Labour that thou and I shal wast And end that I haue now begonne And when this song is song and past My lute be stil for I haue done As to be heard where eare is noâ—e As lead to graue in marble stone My song may pearse her hart as sone Should we then sigh or singe or mone No no my lute for I haue doneâ— The rockes do not so câ—uâ—llyâ— Repulse the waues continually As she my sute and affection So that I am past remedy Wherby my lute and I haue done Proude of the spoile that thou hast gotte Of simple hartes through loues shot By whom vnkind thou hast them wonne Thinke not he hath his bow forgot Although my lute and I haue done Uengeaunce shall fall on thy disdaine That makest but game on earnest payne Thinke not alone vnder the sunne Unquit to cause thy louers plain Although my lute and I haue done May chance thee lie withered and olde In winter nightes that are so colde Plaining in vaine vnto the mone Thy wishes then dare not be tolde Care then who list for I haue done And then may chance thee to repent The time that thou hast lost and spent To cause thy louers â—igh and swowne Then shalt thou know beaute but lent And wish and want as I haue done Now cease my lute this is the last Labour that thou and I shal wast And ended is that we begonne Now is this song bothâ— song and past My lute be still for I haue done How by a kisse he found both his life and death NAture that gaue the Bee so feate a grace To finde hony of so wondrous fashion Hath taught the spider out of the same place To fetche poyson by strange alteracion Though this be strange it is a straunger case With one kisse by secret operacion Both these at once in those your lipps to finde In change wherof I leaue my hart behinde The louer describeth his being taken with sight of his loue VNwarely so was neuer no man caught With stedfast loke vpon a goodly face As I of late for sodainely me thought My hart was torne out of hys place Thorow mine eye the stroke from hers did slideâ— And downe directly to my hart it ranne In helpe wherof the blood therto did glide And left my face both pale and wanne Then was I like a man for wo amased Or like the fowle that fleeth into the fier For while that I vpon her beauty gased The more I burnd in my desire Anone the bloud start in my face againe Inflamde with heat that it had at my hart And brought therwith through out in euery vayne A quaking heate with pleasant smart Then was I like the straw when that the flame Is driuen therin by force and rage of winde I can not tell alas what I shall blame Nor what to seke nor what to finde But well I wot
the lord Ferres sonne VVHo iustly may reioyce in ought vnder the skye As life or lands as frends or frutes which only liue to dye Or who doth not well know all worldly works are vaine And geueth nought but to the lendes to take the same again For though it lift some vp as we long vpward all Such is the sort of slipper welth all thinges do rise to fall Thuncerteintie is such experience teacheth so That what things men do couer most them sonest they forgo Lo Deuorox where he lieth whose lâ—fe men held so deare That now his death is sorowed so that pitie it is to heare His birth of auncient blood his parents of great fame And yet in vertue farre before the formost of the same His king and countrye both he serued to so great gaine That with the Brutes record doth rest and euer shall remaine No man in warre so mete an enterprise to take No man in peace that pleasurde more of enmies frends to make A Cato for his counsell his hed was surely such Ne Theseus frendship was so great but Deuorox was as much A graffe of so small grothe so much good frute to bring Is seldome heard or neuer sene it is so rare a thing A man sent vs from God his life did well declare And now sent for by God again to teach vs what we are Death and the graue that shall accompany all that liue Hath brought him heueÌ„ though soÌ„what sone which life could neuer giue God graunt well all that shall professe as he profest To liue so well to dye no worse and send his soule good rest They of the meane estate are happiest IF right be rackt and ouerronne And power take part with open wrong If feare my force do yelde to soone The lack is like to last to long If God for goodes shalbe vnplaced If right for riches lose his shape If world for wisdome be embraced The gesse is great much hurt may hap Among good thinges I proue and finde The quiet life doth most abound And sure to the contented minde There is no riches may be found For riches hates to be content Rule is enmy to quietnesse Power is most part impacient And seldom likes to liue in pease I heard a herdman once compare That quiet nightes he had mo slept And had mo mâ—ry dayes to spare Then he which ought the beastes he kept I would not haue it thought hereby The Dolphin swimme I meane to teache Nor yet to learne the Fawcon fly I row not so farre past my reache But as my part aboue the rest Is well to wish and well to will So till my breath shall fail my brest I will not ceasse to wish you still Comparison of life and death THe life is long that lothsomly doth last The dolefull dayes draw slowly to their date The present panges and painfull plages forepast Yelde griefe aye grene to stablish this estate So that I feele in this great storme and strife The death is swete that endeth such a life Yet by the stroke of this strange ouerthrow At which conflict in thraldom I was thrust The Lord be praised I am well taught to know From whence man came and eke whereto he must And by the way vpon how feble force His terme doth stand till death doth end his course The pleasant yeres that seme so swift that runne The mery dayes to end so fast that flete The ioyfull nightes of which day daweth so soone The happy howers which mo domisse then mete Do all consume as snow against the sunne And death makes end of all that life begunneâ— Since death shall dure till all the world be wast what meaneth man to drede death then so sore As man might make that life should alway last Without regard the lord hath led before The daunce of death which all must runne on row Though howâ— or when the Lord alone doth know If man would minde what burdens life doth bring What greuous crimes to Goâ— he doth câ—mmiâ—t what plages what panges what perâ—iles thereby spring With no sure hower in all his daies to â—it He would sure think as with great cause I do The day of death were better of the two Death is a port wherby we passe to ioy Life is a lake that drowneth all in payn Death is so dere it ceaseth all annoy Life is so leude that all it yeldes is vayn And as by life to bondage man is braught Euen so likewise by death was fredome wraught Wherfore with Paul let all men wish and pray To be dissolude of this foule fleshly masse Or at the least be armde against the day That they be found good souldiers prest to passe From life to death from death to life again To such a life as euer shall remain The tale of Pigmalion with conclusion vpon the beautie of his loue IN Grece somtime there dwelt a man of worthy fame To graue in stone his cunning was PygmalioÌ„ was his name To make his fame endure when death had him bereft He thought it good of his own hand some filed worke were left In secrete studie then such worke he gan deuise â—s might his cunning best commend and please the lookers eyesâ— A courser faire he thought to graue barbd for the field And on his back a semely knight well armd with speare shield Or els some foule or fish to graue he did deuise And still within his wandering thoughtes new fansies did arise Thus varied he in minde what enterprise to take Till fansy moued his learned hand a woman fayre to make Wheâ—eon he stayde and thought such parfite fourme to frame Whereby he might amaze all Grece and winne immortall name Of yuorie white he made so faire a woman than That nature scornd her perfitnesse so taught by craft of man Wel shaped were her lims ful comly was her face Ech litle vain most liuely coucht eche part had semely grace Twixt nature Pigmalion there might appere great strife So semely was this ymage wrought it lackt nothing but life His curious eye beheld his own deuised work And gasing oft thereon he found much venome there to lurk For all the featurde shape so did his fansie moue That with his idoll whom he made Pygmalion fell in loue To whom he honour gaue and deckt with garlandes swete And did adourn with iewels rich as is for louers mete Somtimes on it he fawnd somtime in rage would cry It was a wonder to behold how fansy bleard his eye Since that this ymage dum enflamde so wise a man My dere alas since I you loue what wonder is it than In whom hath nature set the glory of her name And brake her moulde in great dispaire your like she coulde not frame The louer sheweth his wofull state and praieth pitie LYke as the Larke within the Marlians foote With piteous tunes doth chirp her yelden lay So sing I now seyng none other boote My rendering song and to your well obey
the most entend Minerua yet might neuer perce their scull That Circes cup and Cupides brand hath blend Whose fonde affects now sturred haue their braine So doth thy hap thy hue with colour staine Beauty thy soe thy shape doubleth thy sore To hide thy wit and shew thy vertue vaine Fell were thy fate if wisdome were not moreâ— I meane by thee euen G. by name Whom stormy windes of enuy and disdaine Do tosse with boisteous blastes of wicked fame Where stedfastnesse as chiefe in thee doth raigne Paâ—ience thy setled minde dothe guide and stereâ— Silence and shame with many resteth there Till time thy mother list them forth to call Happy is he that may enioye them all Of the death of the late countisse of Penbroke YEt once againe my muse I pardon pray Thine intermitted song if I repeate Not in such wise as when loue was my pay My ioly wo with ioyfull verse to treate But now vnthanke to our desert be geuen Which merite not a heauens gift to kepe Thou must with me bewaile y t fate hath reuen From earth a iewel laied in earth to slepe A iewel yea a gemme of womanhed Whose perfect vertues linked as in chaine So did adorne that humble wiuelyhed As is not rife to finde the like againe For wit and learnyng framed to obey Her husbandes wil that willed her to vse The loue he bare her chiefely as a staye For al her frendes y t wold her furtherance chuse Wel saâ—d therfâ—re a heauens gift she was Because the best are sonest hence bereft And though her self to heauen hencâ— dyd passe Her spoyle to earth froÌ„ whence it came she left And to vs teares her absence to lament And eke his chance that was her make by law Whose losse to loâ—e so great an ornament Let theÌ„ esteme which true loues knot can drawâ— That eche thing is hurt of it self VVHy fearest thou thy outward fo When thou thy selfe thy harme dost fede Of grief or hurt of paine or wo. Withâ—n eche thing is sowen the sedeâ— So fine was neuer yet the cloâ—h No smith so hard his yron did beate But thone consumed was with moth Thother with canker all to freate The knotty oke and wainscot old Within doth eate the silly worme Euen so a minde in enuy roâ—d Alwaies within it self doth burne Thus euerâ— thing that nature wâ—ought Within it selfe his hurt doth beaâ—e No outward harme nede to be sought Where enemies be within so neare Of the choise of a wife THe flickering flame that flieth from eare to eare And ay her â—trength encreaseth with her flight Geues first the cause why men to heare delight Of those whom she doth note for beautie bright And with this fame that fleeth on so fast Fansy doth hye when reason makâ—s no hast And yet not so content they wishe to see And therby know if fame haue saide aright More trusting to the trial of their eye Then to the brute that goes of any weight Wise in that point that lightly will not leue Unwrie to se that may them after greue Who knoweth not how sight may loue allurâ— And kindle in the hart a hot desire The eye to worke â—hat same could not procure Of greater cause there commeth hotter fire For ere he weâ—e himselfe he feleth warme The fame and eye the causers of his harme Let fame noâ— make her knoweÌ„ whoÌ„ I shall knowâ— For yet mine eye therin to be my guydeâ— Suffiseth me that vertue in her grow Whose simple life her fathers walles do hide Content with this I leaue the rest to go And in such choise shall stande my welth and wo. Description of an vngodly worde VVHo loues to liue in peace and marketh euery change shall here such newes froÌ„ time to time as seme right woÌ„drouâ— straÌ„ge â—uch fraud in frendly lokes such frendship all for game Such cloked wrath in hatefull harâ—s which worldly men retaine Such fayned flattring faith amongs both hye and lowâ— Such great deceit such subtil wittes the poore to ouerthrow Such spite in sugred tonges such malice fâ—ll of pride Such open wrong such great vntâ—uth which cannot go vnspide Such resâ—lesse sute for rowmesâ— which bringeth men to care Such sliding downe from sâ—ippery seates yet can we not beware Such barking at â—he good such bolstering of the ill Such threatning of the wrath of god such vice embraced styll â—uch striuing for the best such climing to estate Such great dissembling euery â—here such loue al mixt with hateâ— Such traines to trap the iust such prolling fautes to pike Such cruell woordes for speaking trouth who euer heard the like Such strife for sturriâ—g strawes such discorde daily wrought Such forged â—ales dul wits to blind such matters made of nought Such trifles tolde for trouth such crediting of lies Such silâ—nce kept when fooles do speak such laughing at the wise Such plenty made â—o scarce such crying for redresse Such feaâ—ed signes of our decay which â—ong dares not expresse Such changes lighâ—ly markt such troubles still apperes which neuer wâ—re before this time no not this thousand yeres Such bribing â—or the purse which euer gapes for more Such hording vp of worldly welth such keping mucke in store Such folly â—ounde in age such will in tender youth Such soÌ„dry â—orâ—es among great clerkes few that speake y e trueth Such falshed vnder craft and such vnstedfast waies was neuer seen within mens harts as is found now a dayes The cause and grounde of this is our vnquiet mynde which â—hinks to take those goods away which we must leue behind why do men seke to get which they can not possesseâ— Or breake their slepes with careful thoughtes al for wretchednes Though one amonges a skore hath welth and case a while A thousanâ— want which toileth sore and trauaile many a myle And some although they slepe yet welth falles in their lap Thus some be riche and some be poore as fortune geues the hap wherfore I holde him wisâ— which thinkes himself at ease And is content in simple state both god and man to please For those that liue like godâ— and honoured are to â—ay within short time thâ—ir glory failes as flowers do fade away Uncertaine is thâ—ir liues on whom this world will frowne For though thâ—y sit â—bâ—ue y â— staâ—res a storme may â—trike theÌ„ downe In wealth who fearâ—â— no fâ—llâ— may slide from ioy full soone There is nothing so suâ—e on earth but changeth as the moone what pleasure hath the riche or case more thâ—n the poore Although he haue a pleasant house his trouble is the more They bowe and speake him feire which seke to sucke his blood And some do wishe his soule in hel and al to haue his good The coueting of the goodes doth nought but dull the sprite And some men chaunce to tast the sower that gropeth for â— the swete The riche is styl enuied by those which eate his bread With fawning speche and flattering tales his
For one good wife Ulisses slew A worthy knot of gentle blood For oneâ—yll wife Grece ouerthrew The towne of Troy Sith bad and good Bring mischief Lord let be thy will To kepe me free from either yll An answer THe vertue of Ulisses wife Doth liue though she hath ceast her race And farre surmountes old Nestors life But now in moe than then it was Such change is chanced in this case Ladies now liue in other trade Farre other Helenes now we see Than she whom Troyan Paris had As vertue fedes the roote so be The sap and rote of bough and tye Ulisses rage not his good wife Spilt gentle blood Not Helenes face But Paris eye did raise the strife That did the Troyan buildyng race Thus sith ne good ne bad do yllâ— Them all O Lord maintain my wyllâ— To serue with all my force and skill Against a gentil woman by whom he was refused TO false report and flying fame whilist my minde gaue credit light Beleuyng that her bolstred name Had stuffe to shew that praise did hight I finde well now I did mistake Upon report my ground to make I heard it said such one was she As rare to finde as parragon Of lowly chere of hart so free As her for bounty could passe none Such one were fair though forme and face Were meane to passe in second place I sought it neare and thinkyng to finde Report and dede both to agree But chaunge had tried her suttle minde Of force I was enforced to see That she in dede was nothing so Which made my will my hart forgo For she is such as geason none And what she most may boast to be I finde her matches mo then one What nede she so to deale with me Masteryng face with scornefull hart So yll reward for good desertâ— I will repent that I haue done To ende so well the losse is small I lost her loue that lesse hath won To vaunt she had me as her thrall What though a gillot sent that notâ— By cocke and pye I meant it not The answere WHom fansy forced first to loue Now frensy forceth forâ—o hate whose minde erst madnesse gan to moueâ— Inconstance causeth to abate No minde of meane dut heat of braine Bred light loue like heate â—ate againe What hurld your hart in so great heatâ— Fansy forced by fayned same Belike that she was light to getâ— For if that vertue and good name Moued your minde why changed your will Sithe vertue the cause abideth still Such Fame reported her to be As rare it were to finde her peere For vertue and for honestie For her free hart and lowly cheere This laud had lied if you had sped And fame bene false that hath ben spred Sith she hath so kept her good name Such praise of life and giftes of grace As brute self blusheth for to blame Such fame as fame feares to deface You sclaunder not but make it plaine That you blame brute of brutish traine If you haue found it looking neere Not as you toke the brute to be Bylike you ment by lowly cheere Bountie and hart that you call free But lewd lightnesse easy to frame To winne your will against her name Nay she may deme your deming so A marke of madnesse in his kinde Such causeth not good name to go As your fond folly sought to finde For brute of kinde bent ill to blase Alway sayth ill but forced by cause The mo there be such as is she More should be gods thank for his grace The more is her ioy it to see Good should by geason earne no place Nor nomber make nought that is good Your strange lusting hed wants a hoode Her dealing greueth you say ye Byside your labour lost in vaine Her dealing was not as we see Sclaunder the end of your great paine Ha lewd lieng lips and hatefull hart What canst thou desire in such desart Ye will repent and right for done Ye haue a dede deseruing shame From reasons race farre haue ye ronne Hold your rayling kepe your tong tame Her loue ye lye ye lost it not Ye neuer lost that ye neuer got She rest ye not your libertie She vaunteth not she had your thrall If ought haue done it let it lye On rage that rest you wit and all What though a varlets tale you tell By cock and pye you do it well The louer dredding to moue his sute for dout of deniall accuseth all women of disdaine and ficklenesse TO walke on doutfull ground where daunger is vnsene Doth double men that carelesse be in depe dispaire I wene For as the blinde doth feare what footing he shall finde So doth the wise before he speake mistrust the straungers minde For he that blontly runnes may light among the breers And so be put vnto his plunge where danger least apperes The bird that selly foole doth warne vs to beware Who lighteth not on euery bush he dreadeth so the snare The Mouse that shons the trap doth shew what harme doth lye Within the swete betraying bait that oft disceiues the eye The fish auoydes the hooke though hunger bids him bite And houereth still about the worme whereon is his delite If birdes and beastes can see where their vndoing lies How should a mischief scape our heades y t haue both wit eyes What madnesse may be more then plow the barreyn fieldeâ— Or any frutefull wordes to sow to eares that are vnwild They heare and than mislike they like and then they lothe They hate thei loue thei scorn thei praise yea sure thei caÌ„ do both We see what falles they haue that clime on trees vnknowne As they that trust to rotten bowes must nedes be ouerthrowne A smart in silence kept doth ease the hart much more Than for to playn where is no salue for to recure the sore Wherfore my grief I hide within a holow hart Untill the smoke thereof be spred by flaming of the smart An answere TO trust the fayned face to rue on forced teares To credit finely forged tales wherin there oft appeares And breathes as from the brest a smoke of kindled smart Where onely lurkes a depe deceit within the hollow hart Betrayes the simple soule whom plaine deceitlesse minde Taught not to feare that in it selfe it selfe did neuer finde Not euery trickling teare doth argue inward paine Not euery sigh doth surely shew the sigher not to faine Not euery smoke doth proue a presence of the fire Not euery glistring geues the gold that gredy folke desire Not euery wayling word is drawen out of the depe Not grief for want of graunted grace enforceth all to wepe Oft malice makes the minde to shed the boyled brine And enuies humor oft vnlades by conduites of the eyen Oft craft can cause the man to make a seming show Of hart with dolour all distreined where grief did neuer grow As cursed Crocodile most cruelly can tole With truthlesse teares vnto his death the silly pitying soule Blame neuer