townes it drawes to ground at length Refuse therefore suche mate to matche though faire she be of face For inward vice with colours spreade doth outward vewe disgrace No credit giue to other men to choose a wife of fee For oft that other men displeasth may pleasaunt séeme to thée If loue be linckt and mate be curst and bende hir frowning brow Applie thy tongue to sugred spéeche that she may leaue to crow Exhort perswade desire entreat and praye hir still to be Embrace hir corps in louing armes and friendly amitie And swéetely kisse hir cherrie chéekes with gentle giftes hir deck And close thy handes most louingly about hir Iuorie neck Thus séeke all sayes hir sore to salue by good and honest way If this help not but froward fem will stiffely stande astray Then pleasant spéech suppresse and faine a sower vnsauerie looke As though thou wouldst deuour the walles and hang the house on hooke With bitter words beswindge this dame let no perswasion lack Let homely stripes sometimes on fall on yong vnrulie back But modest be thy strokes to strike let reason rule thy rate If fewe serue not hir hart to help thou mayest repent to late Take faythfull spouse of humble hart and graft in godly grace Graue wise discréete lernd méeke and one that beautie beares in face Who doth forgo hir deerest friendes and parents leauth eche one Hir selfe by troth shée fréely plight to husbands powre alone In kylling cares both sicke and whole shée faythfull is to thée Shée is thy ioy and comfort swéete though rich or poore thou bée Shée will obey at all commaundes in stormes and cruell smart In mirth in griefe in pouerishment shée bydes and takes hir part If fierce disease shall crase thy corps hir wylling helpe she dightes She cherisheth thée she sweetely speakes shée watchth both dayes and nightes When crooked age shall créepe on thée with stealing steps so blife Shée still prouides shée runnes and goes to heale thy sicklye life Of bodies two one corps is made so linckt in lotted loue Which streming stormes and bitter blast can not by paines remoue Yea after death shee life doth lende when pale thou rotst in grounde In sonnes by hir thy formed face may alwayes plaine be founde So that thy corps and shape be forme with long retayned name Doe florish fresh as springs the flowre to thy long byding fame But who so lapt in lyuing lewde with harlots vile remaine These fruits doth lose with name and fame and spends his goodes in vaine Defame shall eke abridge his dayes corruption corps shall slay And lyuers lewde sure God will iudge no doubt another day When as the vyle and stinking Goates shall passe to endlesse woe To fierie forkes and flames of hell in Limbo lake byloe By proofe these rules of mariage I doe not surely know But men of more experience the same to me did sho Which I for thée my tried friend by paine of simple quill Haue rudely set in this poore verse for want of cunning skill Fewe care for the soule all for the body WHen as the crased corps in groning bed doth lie The skilfull art of phisicks cure is sought for by and bie Which right prescribeth rules that thou must needes obserue By passing paines which thou doest kéepe though thou therefore shouldst sterue Such bitter brunts thou bearst thy bodies health to haue But who will take a little toyle his sicklie soule to saue No carnall men in cares are carnally ybent All gape for gaine there is no God but God make vs repent To his Friend Tho. Howell WHere oft the flouds doe floe vpon the beaten banck Their sandes debarre the grasse to groe to spread his Aprill spranck And where the sonne doth march vpon the greened grasse In time it will the pasture parch as though it neuer was So where the sonne bright friends my Howell hauntes to hit There vsed lyfe in present winds will kéeper cleane forget Their daylie flouds of talke shall ouerflow thy grasse That kéeper hath obliuious walkt as though he neuer was And reason tis I meane why shouldst thou kéeper kéepe Since thou mayest lose in keeping him that nothing can but sléepe For sléepish dumps me shut from taste of cunning stile Nor can I boult my rudenesse out which lies on rustie file Yet holde in mindefull moode our auncient amitie For faithfull friends giue present salue for all the cares that be An aunswere NOt floing floudes the féeble banck that frets Nor swelting heat whose flames y e pastures fry Nor slipprie sande which faint foundation lets Thy Howell once maye cause from thée to wry Ne shall the show of shining sunne bright friend By vsed lyfe or phrase of filed talke Haue powre to put my kéeper out of minde Whose tryed truth may not obliuious walke And where thou seemst to say that sluggish sléepe Hath shut thée forth from tast of learned lore From out they muse as from a Fountaine déepe Doth flowe the fruites of Ladie learnings store Thy wyt thy workes thy verse and stately stile Thy wayes thy déedes who well doth scan vew Shall finde therein nought forste with rustie file Though I want skil to giue thée praise thats dew Our lincke of loue and friendship fixt so fast Thy Howell howldes whylst lim life shall last The vanitie of riches THe stately Pallace princely pight the hoord of glistering Golde The patrimonie largde of landes cannot from sicknesse holde Nor can they cure the crased corps or glad the minde at all For who hath most of such a store the more he feares as thrall Gold is the father to the flock of flatterers by lot It is the summe of griefe or woe who bath or hath it not For who it hath he quakth in feare lest fortune rob his thrift Who hath it not laments bicause he knowes not how to shift Wherefore of riche or poore I iudge as wisedome small I hent In best estate is he with his that liues alwayes content An Epitaph made vppon the death of the right Honorable the Lady Gartrid late Countesse of Shrewisburie THe steling sting of gasping death that byth by fatall force To bring vnto the wailed graue this Countesse courteous corse Had thought to thrust his spitefull speare to wounde this Fem to die And quite to dim this glorious Gem the flower of courtesie And cloth hir corps in shrowding shéete to woorke hir endlesse wo But O thou death thou art deceaude for that is nothing so Nor canst thou mar or stop the trumpe that soundes hir during fame More health then harme more blisse then bale to hir by thée there came For she hath light in lasting life of endlesse ioyes ywis So where thou thoughst to spoute thy spite thou hast hir brought to blisse So enuie gaue thée not the power thy malice madde to fill But thou hast done this Countesse good vnwares against thy will For nowe hir noble name shall byde in sounder soueraigntie And
faithfull loue whose want breedes mine anoy Remember yet the friendly wordes ypast betwéene vs twaine Forget him not for loue of thée that sighes in secret paine I oft doe séeme in companie a gladsome face to beare But God thou knowst my inward woes and cares that rent me there And that I may gush out my griefe in secret place alone I bid my friends farewell in hast I say I must be gone Then hast I fast with heauie hart in this my dolefull case Where walkes no wight but I alone in drowsie desart place And there I empt my laden hart that swelde in fretting mone My sighes and plaint and panges I tell vnto my selfe alone What shall I say doe aske me once why all these sorrowes bée I aunswere true O foe or friend they all are made for thée Once knit the linck that loue may last then shall my dolors cease It lies in thée and wilt thou not the yeelding wight release O would to God it lay in me to cure such griefe of thine Thou shouldst not long be voide of helpe if twere in powre of mine But I would run and raunge in stormes a thousand miles in paine Not fearing foyle of friends to haue my Countnance whole againe And wilt thou then all mercilesse more longer torment mée In drawing back sith my good helpe is onely whole in thée Then sende me close the hewing knife my wyder wounde to stratch And thou shalt sée by wofull griefe of life a cleane dispatch When thou shalt saye and prone it true my hart entirely loude Which lost the lyfe for Countnance sweete from whome he neuer moude Write then vpon my mournefull toombe these verses grauen aboue Here lies the hart his truth to trie that lost his life in loue Loe saue or spill thou mayst me nowe thou sitst in iudgement hie Where I poore man at barre doe stande and lowde for life doe crie Thou will not be so mercilesse to slea a louing hart Small praise it is to conquer him that durst no where to start Then heale the hart that loues thée well vntill the day he die And firmely fast thy fayth on him thats true continually Then shall I blesse the pleasant plot where first I sawe thy face And say the Gods haue thée indude with giftes of goodly grace Whose vertues mixt with pittie great hir Counsell sought to saue Who being voyde of hir good helpe long since had line in graue I. K. at his Friends departure AGainst necessitie there is no lawe they say But shall such néede bereaue perforce my dearest friend away No stroke doth fall so fell But wisedome yet may ware So though my hope must néedes begon yet this doth crushe my care That he is onely gone Utilitie to gaine And still I Ho to sée him well in ioy returnde againe His friends that freshely fare will not his hart refell God sende thée safe thy soules desire to please thee passing well Then shall I yet reioyce that thou departst from mée To set thy selfe in sounder sort as once I hope to sée When as thou shalt take rode within the Hauen of blis Till then to beare with patience the chiefest helpe it is God sende thée well to doe in due delight to dwell God send thée that thou most desirst Mine owne good Ho farewell H. his aunswere to his Friend K. PErforce though Pilate bée which hastes thy Ho. away From pleasant porte where still behinde his Iem of ioy doth stay Yea though the furious floodes his beaten barke doe waste Which gaping gulfes oft threatneth sore to swallow vp in haste Yet distance none so great nor plundge of present paine Shall cause me once my friend forget whilst lyfe in lim shall raigne Whose stedfast truth well tryed whose golden giftes of grace Whose manlie minde whose friendship firme who liues and will not brace Let fortune worke hir worst and spoute hir spightfull spight In welth in wo in ioy in care yet I in thée delight To whome ten thousande thankes I yéelde for thy good will And where thou woulst me one good hap I wishe thée twentie still Farewell O Titus true whose lyke were harde to finde Farewell for faith a Phoenix firme O curteous Keeper kinde A Poesie EXpend my words which soule w t hart doth write Let that be loude which loues thee passing well In space comes grace as worthie wits recite Soule hart and hand thou hast no more I tell Attend on God and waite his will to worke Be sober wise discréete in time and place Estéeme a friend where earnest hart doth lurke Trie ere thou trust and shonne no pooremans case Higher who clims the déeper downe he fell But set my broken barke in calme to starte Reiect no right lose not a heauen for hell Applie to purchase praise by due desarte Deride no wight the best good ayde may mend Beware betime be wise in courtesie Use time and place as may to vertue tend Right thus thou mayst thy praise amount on hie No wight no welth no hart but thou alone Enforceth me at times to ioy and mone To his C. MY wofull hart with pinching paine oprest My carefull corps yclad with heauinesse My restlesse lims that takth no quiet rest Doe wishe for death the ende of déepe distresse Why should I then prolong my dayes in paine Why doe I seeke to heale my helthlesse hart Or why doth lyfe in lanquisht limes remaine And still increase my bitter bale and smart When hart when hands when corps soule to die Doe willing yeelde as lothing lenger lyfe And death alone is ende continuallie Of worldly woes of cursed care and strife Which fiercely flow on me to worke my spight Since I of force must now for go thy sight Whose face to vewe was onely my delight To his fayned Friends THough some perchaunce there bée That would me gladly spot Yet shall they neuer sée Such chaunce to light my lot Ne yet their craftie wayes So closely clokte shall winne To them but little prayse If once I doe beginne Hereafter comes not yet Yeâ—â—â—ce a time I trust Will serue wherein to méete With such as be vniust Wherefore these words I vse I nothing néede to tell Nor you theron to muse Who knowes my meaning well A Poesie IN morning still when thou dost rise sée that in minde thou haue To spende the day which doth ensue as bed should be thy graue Another THere nothing is that nature here hath wrought Shall not consume and turne at last to nought FINIS A farewell to his Friend T. Hooper WHen as the soking sap crept vp on spraies that budde And blosomde branch with goodly gréene gan cloth the naked woode When Winters horie frostes milde March enforst to flee Then came my golden faithfull friend and swéetely chéered mée Whose face at first to vewe mée musde full wounderous For I assone had thought to sée of Troy king Priamus He cheerde my drooping hart in heauie â—ap that stoode With him
When Golde doth faile Is learning tride When riches quaile Good letters bide The more tis prest The more it springs It is the best Of mundane things It bydth with thee Doe what thou wilt Till dead thou be And breath be spilt No burthen tis To charge thy back Most wretch he is That this doth lack Eche thing that groes Doth likewise die Still learning floes Aboue the skie Than knowlege craue Let riches go If this thou haue welth néedes must gro Of Auarice THe childishe yeres in youth doth take the parents trade And are full oft against their wils compelde by Fathers harde To Auarice so vilde in Lucres gaine to game And Father is a happie man when sonne such lyfe doth frame So secrete vice doth lurck with cloke of vertues face And gréedie gaine the shadowe shapes of thrift in godly race And so from Sire to sonne from sonne to thousands mo By fonde conceyte continually this cloked vice doth gro Thus eche man for himselfe And poore laments in thrall For rauening wolfes by gréedie gaine hath beggard deuill and all Thus one doth care for one and one doth learne by one Till lust be puft and chokte with gaine and eche man turne to none But poore and worldly wights shall neuer fréedome finde As long as men take goodes for Gods by gréedie hart so blinde Of blinde Cupide LYbido lewde hath fainde a God of loue Whose pestlent powre to blase which can anoy A title fierce is added through behoue A furious God an Archer blincking boy Whome Venus fonde doth make to range amisse Hir pretie boy hir proper sonne he is He rashly flies in vnaduised way Which heauens doe pierce by his so little hande Though least he bée he beares the greatest sway Of doubtie knights he hath a witlesse bande Alack good childe of wanton foolish crew Thou makst them fooles w t thy fond badge of blew O little boy thou shootes thy raging dartes Full well he paints that makes the bussard blind For right nor rule nor reason hath there partes Where fansies fond doth fire an yéelding minde What euer thou art all furies fierce that bée I rather wishe than meddle or make with thée To his Friend whose friendly loue he craueth O Doubtfull hap O paines and pangues y t moue Thou yet wāts yeres to féele my smarts of loue Mee rue take age alas to thinke on mée My earnest life and death is set on thée Hart true I giue though most y u wouldst me hate Untill hart breake in woes and staruing state I erst doe craue regarde me once or neuer Die though I must yet loue I thée for euer Time trieth all that flieth without retorne Nought swifter is then yeres y t kils things borne Whose stealing steps I wishe more fast to flo To make thée apt thy timely fayth to sho Time absent still we wishe to come and stay And thus vnwares we craue our dying day None is content his present state to sée Yet thou my friend content mayst onely mée And eke in time I hope thou wilt regarde For seruice true the seruant takes rewarde As time shall giue the tried trust of mee Accepted so let me thy seruant bee To D. M. I Craue who will not loue Who loues I cannot craue The thing that doth me moue I séeke and cannot haue Amids the flouds I stande And yet shall die for drinke Of foode great store at hande Yet hunger makes me shrinke To his Friend being absent shewing his good will THe hart that lyues in pensiue doubt His wished ioyes shut farre him fro He drawes his dolefull tunes full out In griefe in paines in cares and wo. And eke in thende it may befall So my vnluckie choyse to spie That guiltlesse hart thou make full thrall By thy decrée to liue or die Then flinted stones and barked trée The sauage beasts on mountaine bred Shall waile my wofull hap by thée As simple lambe to slaughter led My hart hath woonted ioyes resignde Reiecting all for cause of thée A grounded loue in yéelding minde Flées wit and shoonns vtilitée To one who after death woulde leaue his liuelie picture TO leaue behinde a picture fine to sée It may small time well stande in stéede for thée But picture faire of noble actes of minde That farre excelles to learne to leaue behinde Which will maintaine a noble name for aye As Tullis tongue and Caesars acts can saye As Chauser shewes and eke our morall Gowre With thousands more whose fame shal stil endure The destruction of many NIce handes poore stock hart stout for to sée No friends no skill bagges pennylesse bee And pride doth presse to passe the degrée These brings lewde heads to great miserie Being destitute of money the complaint to his Friend OF all the haplesse hap That chaunce to mortall fone Goldes want to stop a gap By proofe I finde is one No paine so sore doth freat No pinsons so can rent No smoking smart so great That makes the hart lament For emptie purse no game No foode no friende no cote For monie all doth frame Whose slaue we are by lote Where money friend doth faile There fawning friends be gone Farewell poore wretch all haile Light purse makes heauie mone These paynes by proofe be gest What neede examples cost Where purse is so deprest As clapt in Sampson post Stormes past yet soone retires And drowsie dumpes decay So God graunt iust desires To driue these plagues away The Louer describeth his trustie loue THough horse so wylde in thousand partes Should teare my corps most dolorous Though fryde I were w t piersing smarts And boylde in lead most piteous Though sworde should pierse my hart so colde In bloudy woundes my death to frame Though paine of hell to me were folde Most retchlesse wretch and yll by name Though thousand miles on foote I fare With naked legge in frozen stormes Though bloud of hart I spend in care Through countries farre in thousand harmes Though dread in feares doth worke dispaire And hope alone doth cherishe mée Yet rack that rendes eche lim so faire Shall not by smart take heart from thee An admonition to his Friend LEarne honest mirth in humble curtesie Let person time and place regarded be Serue God in hart and loue his statutes true Then thée with goods and heauen he will indue Flee ydlenesse alwaies to labors frame Of thone comes good of thother sinne and shame He craueth regarde of the cares he taketh THe crooked clowne that drawth the plowe with all his yerely toyle Receiues at last rewarde of worke bestowed on fertile soyle And shall my paines and restlesse woes thus vnrewarded bée Shall I be prest in simpler sort and vylder case then hée The fethred foule that flées aloft obtaines the things he seekes And sundrie where his fostring foode with chirping bill he péekes Estéeme me so Desirous to requite for manie giftes one to his deare beloue NO man of sturdie thornes doth séeke the swelling
after death doth vertue liue O death in spight of thée For she of grace the garlande gay in goodly giftes did weare Whose flowres do now in children wise of Talbots line appéere Of Rutlandes race she noblie sprang and linkt with péerlesse pearle Of Shrewisburie who bare the name a noble worthy Earle Whome she hath left behinde among the blessed branches fine The worthy imps that sprang of them as of a vertuous Uine To poore she was a pleasant port to all a helpe she came By teares that haue beene spent for hir the poore haue shewde the same O noble hart whose Well of grace shall spring and neuer drie Who being hie didst bend thy brest vnto the poorst degrée Unto the weake shée was a strength vnto the hungrie foode Unto the rude a lamp of light vnto the wisemen good Unto the youth she was a guide vnto the aged ioy Unto the noble ornament vnto the blinde a way In towne she was a shyning starre for hir all better were In Countrie ioy at home a glasse to vewe in gladding chere Hir beautie great hir vertues greatst that sprang as flagrant flowres Alas what treasure haue we lost for all the losse is oures For she hath gainde O Death by thée but we haue shipwrack made And nowe in earth our helpe is lapt our light is turnde to shade O what a losse so many giftes of grace so lost in one For which eche wight that knew hir well cannot but greatly mone But drie ye vp your dréerie teares she liues without anoy O comely courteous Countesse now farewell O Iem of ioy Farewell O spring of vertues swéete farewell of help the store Both high and low bewaile thy want farwell for euermore Of ingratitude WHo rightly scans what thing is greatest gréefe And seekes by proofe the truth therof to trie Shall surely finde ingratitude the chéefe Surmounting farre eche other wo on hie Whose freting force when friendlie wight shal féele All mirth and ioy to care doth straight conuart Yea weare the hart of craggie flinte or stéele It scarse coulde shoonne to waile such bitter smart Who therfore séekes by paines to please the prowd Unthankefull wight compared well may bée To hym that kepes a Cur which barkes as lowde At Feaders face as when he foe doth sée Or Viper eke who long with carefull thought In wofull wombe hir tender younglings feedes By whome at last hir balefull bale is wrought Through their ingrate and most vnfriendly déedes Whose nature is to worke the place most griefe Where they in time haue had full great reliefe Of all ingrate loe héere the gotten gaine And onely hyre for well deserued paine Of Death SInce death doth leade to lyfe And lyfe is lasting ioy ▪ To stay why make men strife Where nought is but anoy Answere WHy men such strife doe sowe To staye in place of paine Where you the cause would knowe I gesse its worldly gaine And since the fleshe is fraile Eche weake and féeble wight When death doth once assaile Resistes with all their might Then blame not wealthie wights Which knowes of néede no lack But lyue in déepe delights To die though they drawe back When néedie soule in déede Of death doth stande in dréede To one that faine would speede yet doubtfull to proceede AS Cat would faine eate fishe Yet loth hir foote to wet So lyest thou still and wishe Where trauaile gaine should get That labor first brings gaine Thou seest by little Ante Who through whot Sommers paine Doth shoon colde winters wante The swéete that Bee doth suck Comes not by lying still The grapes for wine men pluck Are gote by trauailes skill The Marchant eke men know Great goods by trauaile gaines The Plowman séede doth sow To reape rewarde for paines Not wishe I say therefore But trauaile wealth doth winne Who so then will haue store By trauaile must beginne Strong monstrous mounts to réele Rough craggie rocks to rent And eke the sturdie stéele Oft trauaile makes relent For trauaile is the way Eche noble gift to gaine Use therein no delay And spare thou not for paine For who so paine doth spare To speake where he would spéede And makes eche doubt his care A dastarde is in deede The Louer being in the Countrie showeth his good will to his Ladie in the Court. THough corps in Countrie bée in Court my countnance is My ioy my care my lyfe my death mine endlesse bale or blis My pleasure pine and paine my helpe my harme also My griping griefe my greatest gaine my friend and eke my fo And doubtfull though to some to scan this case may séeme Yet you I know no wisedome want much déeper doubts to déeme Wherefore I will omit my minde at large to tell Lest by the way some watchman lay to ring the larome bell Such spightfull spiders snares I aye doe seeke to shonne As not the foolishe flie betraies but greater harmes haue done Who pufte with poyson strong like Momus mates doe still Some discorde cause and bate in place where else might grow good will But let them worke their worste looke what I haue profeste If you commaunde I will performe I spare to speake the rest And so I doe conclude and cease my ragged rime As he that skill of schoole doth want Pernasus mount to clime To his Friend R. H. WIth hatefull hawtie haunt not For dainefull dizards daunt not For witlesse vaunters faint not For truthlesse taunters taint not For spitefull spiders spare not For curious carpers care not But Hussie as thou hast begunne Holde on thy race in vertue runne The Louer to his L. THe fierie flames that fast on me doe flowe The secret sighes that wast my wofull brest The ysie colde I féele like flakes of snowe The hidden harmes that breede my great vnrest By fancies force doe cause such troublous tyde That ship now shakes which late in roade did ride Answere WHere reason rules affection fonde doth flie And bewties beames no bitter bale may breed Where wisedome will by vertues skill doth tie Cupidoes flames are quenched forth with spéed Let reason then thy will by wisedome guide So shalt thou safely shonne this trembling tide Golde corrupteth THough most where welth doth flowe Men fayning friendship showe Yet faythfull friend in déede Is knowne in time of neede Aunswere BUt nowe we féele and finde A thing to true in déede Where man be foe or friende The Golde and goods shall speede For vertues all are shut Unto the lower place And money loft is put Eche learned head to face If money none thou hast Thou art not worth a flie Thy credit cleane is past All vertues husht doe lie A learned man but poore Is counted doting foole Wise Virgill stands at dore To goe againe to schoole Yet once I hope to sée All money go for drosse And vertue high to bée To winne hir wrongfull losse A Poesie EStéeme a friend Let vertue crease In friendly minde Sometime is