together Did loue renewes his blast That cause my ioyes to wither Then sodaynely a spark Startes out of my desire And lepes into my hart Settyng the coles a fire Then reason runnes about To seke forgetfull water To quench and clene put out The cause of all this matter And saith dead flesh must nedes Be cut out of the core For rotten withered wedes Can heale no greuous sore But then euen sodaynely The feruent heat doth slake And cold then straineth me That makes my bodies shake Alas who can endure To suffer all this paine Sins her that should me cure Most cruell death hath slaine Well well I say no more Let dead care for the dead Yet wo is me therfore I must attempt to lead One other kinde of life Then hitherto I haue Or els this paine and strife Will bring me to my graue ¶ Songes written by N. G. Of the ix Muses I Mâ—s of king Ioue and quene Remembrance lo The sisters nyne the poets pleasant feres Calliope doth stately stile bestow And worthy praises paintes of princely peres Clio in solem songes reneweth all day With present yeres conioyning age bypast Delitefull talke loues Comicall Thalsy In fresh grene youth who doth like laurell last With voyces Tragicall sowndes Melpomen And as with cheins thallâ—red eare she bindes Her stringes when Terpsichor doth touche euen then She toucheth hartes and raigneth in mens mindes Fine Erato whose looke a liuely chere Presents in dauncing keepes a comely grace With semely gesture doth Polymnie stere Whose wordes holle routes of rankes doo rule in place Uranie her globes to view all bent The ninefold heauen obserues with fixed face The blastes Eutrepe tunes of instrument With solace sweet hence heauie dumps to chase Lord Phebus in the mids whose heauenly sprite These ladies doth enspire embraceth all The graces in the Muses weed delite To lead them forth that men in maze they fall Musonius the Philosophers saying IN working well if trauell you sustain Into the winde shall lightly passe the paine But of the dede the glory shall remain And cause your name with worthy wights to raign In working wrong if pleasure you attaine The pleasure soon shall vade and voyde as vaine But of the deed throughout the life the shame Endures defacing you with fowl defame And still tormentes the minde both night and dayâ— Scant length of time the spot can wash away Flee then ylswading pleasures baits vntrew And noble vertues fair renown purseew Description of Vertue VVHat one art thou thus in torn weed yclad Uertue in price whom auncient sages had why poorely rayd For fading goodes past care Why doublefaced I marke ech fortunes fare This bridle what Mindes rages to restrain Tooles why beare you I loue to take great painâ— Why winges I teache aboue the starres to flye Why tread you death I onely cannot dyeâ— Praise of measure-keping THe auncient time commended not for nought The mean what better thing can ther be sought In meane is vertue placed on either side Both right and left amisse a man shall slideâ— Icar with sire hadst thou the mid way flown Icarian beck by name had no man known If middle path kept had proud Phaeton No burning brand this earth had faâ—â—ne vpon Nâ— cruel powr ne none to soft can raign That kepes a mean the same shall still remain Thee Iulie once did too much mercy spill Thee Nero stern rigor extreem did kill How could August so many yeres well passe Nor ouermeek nor ouerferse he was Worship not Ioue with curious fansies vain Nor him despise hold right atween these twain No wastefull wight no greedy goom is prayzd Stands largesse iust in egall balance payzd So Catoes meal surmountes Antonius chere And better fame his sober fare hath herâ— To slender building bad as bad to grosse One an eyesore the tother falls to losse As medcines help in measure so God wot By ouermuch the sick their bane haue got Unmeet mee seems to vtter this mo wayes Measure forbids vnmeasurable prayse Mans life after Possidonius or Crates VVHat path list you to tread what trade will you assay The courts of plea by braul bate driue geÌ„tle peace awayâ— In house for wife and childe there is but cark and care With trauail and with toyl ynough in feelds we vse to fare Upon the seas lieth dreed the rich in foraine land Doo fear the losse and there the poore like misers poorely standâ— Strife with a wife without your thrift full hard to see Yong brats a trouble none at allâ— a maym it seems to bee Youth fond age hath no hert and pincheth all to nye Choose then the leeser of these twoo no life or soon to dye Metrodorus minde to the contrarie VVHat race of life ronne you what trade will you assayâ— In courts is glory got and wit encreased day by day At home wee take our ease and beak our selues in rest The feeldes our nature doo refresh with pleasures of the bestâ— On seas is gayn to get the straunger hee shall bee Estemed hauing much if not none knoweth his lack but heeâ— A wife will trim thy house no wyfe then art thou free Brood is a louely thing without thy life is loose to thee â—ong bloods be strong old sires in double honour dwell Dâ—way that choyse no life or soon to dye for all is well Of frendship OF all the heauenly giftes that mortall men commend What trusty treasure in the world can counteruail a frend Our helth is soon decayd goodes casuall light and vain Broke haue we sene the force of powre and honour suffer stainâ— In bodies lust man doth resemble but base brute True vertue gets and keeps a frend good guide of our pursute Whose harty zeale with ours accords in euery case No terme of time no space of place no storme can it deface When fickle fortune failes this knot endureth still Thy kin out of their kinde may swarue wheÌ„ frends owe the good willâ— What sweter solace shall befall than one to finde Upon whose brest thou mayst repose the secretes of thy minde He wayleth at thy wo his teares with thine be shed With thee doth he all ioyes enioy so leef a life is led Behold thy frend and of thy self the patern see One soull a wonder shall it seem in bodies twain to bee In absence present rich in want in sicknesse sound Yea after death aliue mayst thou by thy sure frend be found Eche house eche towne eche realm by stedfast loue doth stand Where fowl debate breeds bitter bale in eche deuided land O frendship flowr of flowrs O liuely sprite of life O sacred bond of blisfull peace the stalworth staunch of strife Scipio with Lelius didst thou conioyn in care At home in warrs for weal and wo with egall faith to fare Gesippus eke with Tite Damon with Pythias And with Mâ—netus sonne Achill by thee combined was Euryalus and Nisus gaue Uirgil cause to sing Of â—ylades doo many rimes and
gaue thee not to do it pain But to preserue lo it to thee was taken I serued thee not that I should be forsaken But that I should receiue reward again I was content thy seruant to remain And not to be repayed on this fashion Now since in thee there is none other reason Displease thee not if that I do refrain Unsaciat of my wo and thy desire Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault But sins it pleaseth thee to fain default Farewell I say departing from the fire For he that doth beleue bearing in hand Ploweth in the water and soweth in the sand The louer describeth his restlesse state THe flaming sighes that boyle within my brest Somtime breake forth and thei can well declare The hartes vnrest and how that it doth fare The pain therof the grief and all the rest The watred eyen from whence the teares do fall Do fele some force or els they would be dry The wasted flesh of colour ded can try And somtime tell what swetenes is in gall And he that lust to see and to disarne How care can force within a weried minde Come he to me I am that place assinde But for all this no force it doth no harme The wound alas happe in some other place From whence no toole away the skar can race But you that of such like haue had your part Can best be iudge Wherfore my friend so deare I thought it good my state should now appeare To you and that there is no great desart And wheras you in weighty matters great Of fortune saw the shadow that you know For trifling thinges I now am striken so That though I fele my hart doth wound and beatâ— I sit alone saue on the second day My feuer comes with whom I spend my time In burning heat while that she list assigne And who hath helth and libertie alway Let him thank God and let him not prouoke To haue the like of this my painfull stroke The louer lamentes the death of his loue THe piller perisht is wherto I lent The strongest stay of mine vnquiet minde The like of it no man again can finde From East to West still seking though he went To mine vnhappe for happe away hath rent Of all my ioy the very bark and rinde And I alas by chance am thus assinde Dayly to moorne till death do it relent But sins that thus it is by desteny What can I more but haue a wofull hart My penne in plaint my voyce in carefull cry My minde in wo my body full of smart And I my self my selfe alwaies to hate Till dreadfull death do ease my dolefull state The louer sendeth sighes to mone his sute GO burning sighes vnto the frosen hart Go breake the yse with pities painfull dart Might neuer perce and if that mortall praier In heauen be heard at lest yet I desire That death or mercy end my wofull smart Take with thee pain wherof I haue my part And eke the flame from which I cannot start And leaue me then in rest I you require Go burning sighes fulfill that I desire I must go worke I see by craft and art For truth and faith in her is laid apart Alas I can not therfore now assaile her With pitefull complaint and scalding fier That from my brest disceiuably doth start Complaint of the absence of his loue SO feble is the threde that doth the burden stay Of my poore life in heauy plight that falleth in decay That but it haue elswhere some ayde or some succours The running spindle of my fate anone shall end his course For sins thunhappy hower that did me to depart From my swete weale one onely hope hath stated my life apart Which doth perswade such wordes vnto my â—ored minde Maintain thy self O wofull wight some better luck to finde For though thou be depriued from thy desired sight Who can thee tell if thy â—eturne be for thy more delight Or who can tell thy losse if thou mayst once recouer Some pleasant hower thy wo may wrap and thee defend couer Thus in this trust as yet it hath my life sustained But now alas I see it faint and I by trust am trayned The time doth flete and I see how the howers do bend So fast that I haue scant the space to marke my comming end Westward the sunne from out the East scant shewes his light When in the West he hies him strayt within the dark of night And comes as fast where he began his path awry From East to West from West to East so doth his iourney lye The life so short so fraile that mortall men liue here So great a weight so heauy charge the bodies that we bere That when I think vpon the distaunce and the space That doth so farre deuide me from my dere desired face I know not how tattain the winges that I require To lift me vp that I might flie to folow my desire Thus of that hope that doth my life some thing sustaine Alas I feare and partly fele full litle doth remain Eche place doth bring me grief where I do not behold Those liuely eyes which of my thoughts wer woÌ„t y e keys to hold Those thoughts wer pleasant swete whilst I enioyed that grace My pleasure past my present pain when I might well embrace And forbecause my want should more my wo encrease In watch and slepe both day and night my will doth neuer cease That thing to wish wherof sins I did lese the sight Was neuer thing that mought in ought my wofull hart delight Thuneasy life I lead doth teach me for to mete The floodes the seas the land the hilles that doth theÌ„ entermete Twene me and those shene lightes that wonted for to clere My darked pangs of cloudy thoughts as bright as Phebus spere It teacheth me also what was my pleasant state The more to fele by such record how that my wealth doth bate If such record alas prouoke thenâ— lamed minde Which sprong that day that I did leaue the best of me behinde If loue â—orget himself by length of absence let Who doth me guyde O wofull wretch vnto this bayted net Where doth encrease my care much better wer for me As dumme as stone all thing forgot still absent for to be Alas the clere christall the bright transplendant glasse Doth not bewray the colours hid which vnderneth it hase As doth thaccumbred sprite the thoughtfull throwes discouer Of feares delite of feruent loue that in our hartes we couer Out by these eyes it sheweth that euermore delight In â—laint and teares to seke redresse and eke both day and night Those kindes of pleasures most wherein men so reioyce To me they do redouble still of stormy sighes the voyce For I am one of them whom plaint doth well content It sâ—ts me well myne absent wealth me semes for to lament And with my teares tassay to charge mine eyes twain Like as my hart aboue the brink is
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
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
those therfore that wisely can beware The guilefull man that sutly sayth himselfe to dread the snare Blame not the stopped eares against the Syrenes song Blame not the minde not moued w t mone of falsheds flowing toÌ„g If guile do guide your wit by silence so to speake By craft to craue and faine by fraude the cause y t you wold break Great harme your suttle soule shall suffer for the same And mighty loue will wreke the wrong so cloked with his name But we whom you haue warnde this lesson learne by you To know the tree before we clime to trust no rotten bowe To view the limed bushe to looke afore we light To shunne the perilous bayted hooke and vse a further sight As do the mouse the birde the fish by samply fitly show That wily wits and ginnes of men do worke the simples wo So simple sithe we are and you so suttle be God help the Mouse the birde the fish vs your sleightes to â—â—e The louer complaineth his fault that with vngentle writing had displeased his lady AH loue how waiward is his wit what paÌ„ges do perce his brest Whom thou to wait vpon thy will hast reued of his rest The light the darke the sunne the mone the day eke the night His dayly dieng life him self he hateth in despight Sith furst he light to looke on her that holdeth him in thrall His mouing eyen his moued wit he curseth hart and all From hungry hope to pining feare eche hap doth hurle his hart From panges of plaint to fits of fume from aking into smart Eche moment so doth change his châ—re not with recourse of ease But with sere sortes of sorrowes still he worketh as the seas That turning windes not calme returnde rule in vnruly wise As if their holdes of hilles vphurld they brasten out to rise And puffe away the power that is vnto their king assignde To pay that sithe their prisonment they deme to be behinde So doth the passions long represt within the wofull wight Breake downe the banks of all his wits out they gushen quite To rere vp rores now they be free from reasons rule and stay And hâ—dlong hales thunruled race his quiet quite away No measure hath he of his ruth no reason in his rage No bottom grouÌ„d where stayes his grief thus weares away his age In wishing wants in wayling woes Death doth he dayly call To bring release when of relief he seeth no hope at all Thence comes that oft in depe despeire to rise to better state On heauen and heauenly lampes he layeth the faute of al his fate On God and Gods decreed dome cryeth out with cursing breath Eche thing that gaue and saues him life he damneth of his death The woÌ„be him bare y e brests he suckt ech star y t with their might Their secret succour brought to bring the wretch to worldly light Yea that to his soules perile is most haynous harme of all And craues the cruellest reuenge that may to man befall Her he blasphemes in whom it lieth in present as she please To dampne him downe to depth of hell or plant in heauens case Such rage constrainde my strained hart to guide thunhappy hand That sent vnsitting blots to her on whom my life doth stand But graunt O God that he for them may beare the worthy blame Whom I do in my depe distresse finde guilty of the same Euen that blinde boy that blindly guides the fautles to their fall That laughes when they lament that he hath throwen into thral Or Lord saue louring lookes of her what penance els thou please So her contented will be wonne I count it all mine ease And thou on whoÌ„ doth hang my will with hart with soul care With life and all that life may haue of well or euell fare Graunt grace to him that grates therfore with sea of saltish brine By extreme heat of boylyng brest distilled through his eyen And with thy fancy render thou my self to me againe That dayly then we duely may employ a painelesse paine To yelde and take the ioyfull frutes that â—erty loue doth lendâ— To them that meane by honest meanes to come to happy end The louer wounded of Cupide wisheth he had rather ben stâ—â—ken by death THe blinded boy that bendes the bow To make with dint of double wound The stowtest state to stoupe and know The cruell craft that I haue found With death I would had chopt a change To â—orow as by bargain made Ech others shaft when he did range With restlesse rouyng to inuade Thunthralled mindes of simple wightes Whose giltlesse ghostes deserued not To fele such fall of their delightes Such panges as I haue past God wot Then both in new vnwonted wise Should death deserue a better name Not as tofore hath bene his guise Of crueltie to beare the blame But contrary be counted kinde In lendyng life and sparyng space For sicke to rise and seke to finde A way to wish their weary race To draw to some desired end Their long and lothed life to rid And so to fele how like a frend Before the bargain made he did And loue should either bring againe To wounded wightes their owne desire A welcome end of pinyng payne As doth their cause of ruthe require Or when he meanes the quiet man A harme to hasten him to grefe A better dede he should do then With borrowd dart to geue relefe That both the sicke well demen may He brought me rightly my request And eke the other sort may say He wrought me truely for the best So had not fancy forced me To beare a brunâ— of greater wo Then leauing such a life may be The ground where onely grefes do grow Unlucky likyng linkt my hart In forged hope and forced feare That oft I wisht the other dart Had rather perced me as neare A fayned trust constrayned care Most loth to lack most hard to finde In sunder so my iudgement tare That quite was quiet out of minde Absent in absence of mine ease Present in presence of my paine The woes of want did much displease The sighes I sought did greue againe Oft grefe that boyled in my brest Hath fraught my face with saltish tearesâ— Pronouncyng proues of mine vnrest Whereby my passed paine appeares My sighes full often haue supplied That faine with wordes I wold haue said My voice was stopt my tong was tyed My wits with wo were ouerwayd With tremblyng soule and humble chereâ— Oft grated I for graunt of grace On hope that bounty might be there Where beauty had so pight her place At length I found that I did fere How I had labourde all to losse My self had ben the carpenter That framed me the cruell crosse Of this to come if dout alone Though blâ—nt with trust of better spede So oft hath moued my minde to mone So oft hath made my hart to blede What shall I say of it in dede Now hope is gone mine olde
I make For mine executour and my frende That liuing did not me forsake Nor will I trust vnto my ende To see my body well conueyde In ground where that it shalbe laydeâ— Tombed vnderneth a goodly Oke With Iuy grene that fast is bound There this my graue I haue bespâ—ke For there my ladies name do souâ—d Beset euen as my teâ—tament tels With oken leaues and nothing els Grauen wheron shaâ—be exprest Here lyeth the body in this place Of him that liuing neuer cest To serue the fayrest that euer was The corps is here the hart he gaue To her for whom he lieth in graue And also set about my hersse Two lampes to burne and not to queint Which shalbe token and rehersse That my good will was neuer spent When that my corps was layd alow My spirit did sweare to serue no mo And if you want of ringing bels When that my corps goth into graue Repete her name and nothing els To whom that I was bonden slaue When that my life it shall vnframe My sprite shall ioy to heare her name With dolefull note and piteous sound Wherwith my hart did cleaue in twaine With such a song lay me in ground My sprite let it with her remayne That had the body to commend Till death therof did make an end And euen with my last bequest When I shall from this life depart I geue to her I loued best My iust my true and faithfull hart Signed with the hand as cold as stone Of him that liuing was her owne And if he here might liue agayne As Phenix made by death anew Of this she may assure her plaine That he will still be iust and trew Thus farewell she on liue my owne And send her ioy when I am gone The louer in dispeire lamenteth his case A Dieu desert how art thou spent Ah dropping teares how do ye washe Ah scalding â—ighes how be ye spent To pricke them forth that will not hast Ah payned hart thou gapst for grace Euen there where pitie hath no place As easy it is the stony rocke From place to place for to remoue As by thy plaint for to prouoke A fâ—osen hart from hate to loue What should I say such is thy lot To fawne on them that force the not Thus maist thou safely say and sweare That rigour raighneth and ruth doth faile In thanklesse thoughts thy thoughts do weâ—â— Thy truth thy faith may nought auaile For thy good will why should thou so Still graft where grace it will not grow Alas pore hart thus hast thou spent Thy flowryng time thy pleasant yeres With sighing voyce wepe and lament For of thy hope no frute apperes Thy true meanyng is paide with scorne That euer soweth and repeth no corne And where thou sekes a quiet port Thou dost but weigh agaynst the winde For where thou gladdest woldst resort There is no place for thee assinde Thy desteny hath set it so That thy true hart should cause thy wo. Of his maistresse m. Bâ— IN Bayes I boast whose braunch I beare Such ioy therin I finde That to the death I shall it weare To ease my carefull minde In heat in cold both night and day Her vertue may be sene When other frutes and flowers decayâ— The bay yet growes full grene Her berries fede the birdes full oft Her leues swete water make Her bowes be set in euery loft For their swete sauours sake The birdes do shrowd them from the cold In her we dayly see And men make arbers as they wold Under the pleasant tree It doth me good when I repayre There as these bayes do grow Where oft I walke to take the ayre It doth delight me soâ— But loe I stand as I wâ—re dome Her beauty fo to blase Wherwâ—th my sprâ—tes be ouercome So long theron I gase At last I turne vnto my walk In passing to and fro And to my self I smile and talk And then away I go Why smilest thou say lokers on what pleasure hast thou found With that I am as cold as stone And ready for to swound Fie fie for shame sayth fansy than Pluck vp thy faynted hart And speke thou boldly like a man Shrinke not for little smart Wherat I blushe and change my chere My senses ware so wâ—ake O god think I what make I here That neuer a word may speake I dare not sigh lest I be heard My lokes I slyly cast And still I stand as one were scarde Untill my stormes be past Then happy hap doth me reuiue The blood comes to my face A merier man is not aliue Then I am in that case Thus after sorow seke I rest When fled is fansies fit And though I be a homely gest Before the bayes I sitâ— Where I do watch till leaues do fall When winde the tree doth shake Then though my branch be very small My leafe away I take And then I go and clap my hands My hart doth leape for ioy These bayes do ease me from my bands That long did me annoy For when I do behold the same Which makes so faire a show I finde therin my maistresse name And se her vertues grow The louer complaineth his harty loue not requited WHen Phebus had the serpent slaine He claymed Cupides boe which strife did turne him to great paine The story well doth proue For Cupide made him fele much woe In sekyng Dephnes loue This Cupide hath a shaft of kinde Which wounded many a wight Whose golden hed had power to binde Ech hart in Uenus bandes This arrow did on Phebus light Which came from Cupides handes An other shast was wrought in spiteâ— Which headed was with lead Whose nature quenched swete delight That louers most embrace In Dephnes brest this cruell head Had found a dwellyng place But Phebus fonde of his desire Sought after Dephnes so He buâ—nt with heat she felt no fire Full fast she fled him fro He gate but hate for his good will The gods assigned so My case with Phebus may compare His hap and mine are one I cry to her that knowes no eare Yet seke I to her most When I approche then is she gone Thus is my labour lost Now blame not me but blame the shaft That hath the golden head And blame those gods that with their craft Such arrowes forge by kinde And blame the cold and heauy lead That doth my ladies minde A praise of m. M. IN court as I behelde the beauty of eche dame Of right my thought froÌ„ all the rest should M. steale the sameâ— But er I ment to iudge I vewed with such aduise As retchlesse dome should not inuade the boundes of my deuise And whiles I gased long such heat did brede within As Priamus towne felt not more flame wheÌ„ did the bale begin By reasons rule ne yet by wit perceue I could That M face of earth yfound enioy such beauty should And fansy doubted that from heauen had Uenus come To norish rage in Britaynes harts while