Such Saintes such seruice I follow what flyeth from me No griefe to wante of due regarde Of Anger A New yeares gifte Another Another Another An Epitaph A Dreame Loue asketh loue The variable thoughts of a Louer R. T. Aunswere Another waye Godlynesse passeth ryches His aunswere to one that wrote faynte hartes that feare to synne fayre Ladyes syldome wynne To I. N. H. To his mishap Falsyfying of fayth breeds many complaints To his Song sent to his Mistresse A Poesie Aunswere The vanitie of rytches Discord makes weake what concord left strong Of one that came to borrowe money Aunswere Truth feareth no tryall He complayneth his mishap with promise to keepe her honor G. To his Ladye For smale offence smale punishment ¶ Loues myghtinesse growes by Louers weaknesse ¶ A comparison of his troubles ¶ I. K. to H. being sicke ¶ Aunswere H. ¶ Of Friendship ¶ Aunswere G. H. ¶ H. To M. ¶ Admonition to his Friend ¶ Who seekes this Worlds felicitie Fyndes nothing else but vanitie To a Flatterer Aunswere Reason and Fansie doe often varie A Poesie Certaine Verses translated out of Petrark concerning Rome written by hym many yeares since FINIS ¶ To the Reader WHere none but Nature is the guyde Minerua hath no parte Then you her Nurcelings beare with him y e knows no aide of arte I wake my wyts to please my selfe nought reaking praise or blame I force my pen to purge my brayne though matter small I frame In which attempt if lack of skill haue led my Muse awry Let my well meaning minde the misse in eche respect supply If patterns wrought by Arte of curious workman here thou seeke Thy trauayle then thou shalt but lose to looke and neuer léeke But if good will may thée suffise peruse and take thy pleasure In Natures schoole my little skill I learned all by leasure Here nothing placed is that may the vertuous sorte offende Though enuious Carpers barke and snarle at things they scarce can mende Whose chiefest grace is wise to séeme by blotting others déedes Whose paynted flowers in proofe full oft fall out but stincking wéedes The chaste desyre with honest ryme mistykes no whitt in minde But venomde Spyders poyson take where Bée doth honey finde With greater ease a fault is founde then well to welde the reste It differs much to fell the tale and words misplasté to wresté By patterns here displayed to thée thou mayst perhaps preuente The poysoning bayts of bitter swéete whose blisse brings sharp euente Disloyall loue and filthie lust thou here art taught to flée With other Sawes to sundry endes though he wed rough they bée That lyfe is lyke a Bubble blowne or smoke that soone doth passe That all our pleasures are but paynes our glorie brittle glasse That Fortunes fruites are variable no holde in Princely mace That womens myndes are mutable that death drawes on apace That worldly pompe is vanity that youth vnwares decayes That high estate is slipperie that onely vertue stayes Here learne thou mayst with diuers notes gaynst fraude and flattery That may suffise to warne the wise to voyde such battery And eke thou here mayst viewe and see howe Be wtie cruell haste Doth make to shun the gallant face where she but late was plaste That she is Natures priueledge and so is sayd to bée Because the seldom giues that gyfte but where she cause doth sée That beawtie is a dumbe disceite not hauing worde or arte And yet with stlente crafte she can perswade the hardest harte She conqueres where she coms by kinde for Creatures faire procure By naked lookes such yéelding harts as they wishe to allure Whose vayne delyghts if thou vesier thy thryfte goes to the grounde And yet by honest loue we see the greatest wealth is founde Apollos troope my faults will passe and waye my want hercin Whose freindly fauor if I gaine I prise not Pan a pin The trauell myne the pleasure thine if ought thou here doe léeke Thy good reporte for paynes ymployed is sole rewarde I séeke Virtus honorem parit ¶ Faults escaped in the printing In the Sonet entiteled Ruine the reward of Vice the seconde line for ioy reade ioyes And in the fyft staffe of the same Sonet the last line for forsing reade falsing In the answere to the poe sie written of Fansie the laste lyne for you reade your In the Golden world the xvij vearse and fyrst word for Gor read For. In the Sonet entiteled hir louer that made a conquest of hir the viii staffe the last line for shamefull read shamelesse In mans impietie faines false deitie the first verse for faine read faynde In Sorrowe disclosed somewhat eased for setled sorrows read sorrowe In such saints such seruice toward the ende of the Sonet for when read whence In what Nature seuereth arte hardly ioyneth the laste line of the first staffe for soone read same In the vanity of ritches after the sixt line read For who hath most of such a store the more he feares as thrall Which is there lacking In Discorde makes weake what c. the last lyne saue one for guyde reade guyle In Reason and fancie do often vary the first word for there read where Delightfull Discourses to sundry purposes ¶ No assurance but in Vertue WHo wisely skans the weake and brittle stayes That Natures Imps within thys vale possesse The dyuers haps the straunge vncertayne wayes That headlong forth we runne beyonde all gesse Shall soone perceyue that euery worldly ioye Short pleasures yéelds imixte with long anoye Though whorde of heaped store for more delight Our Cofers kéepe to please our gréedie luste Yea though our time we passe in ioyfull plight And in thys lyfe repose our chiefest trust Yet worldly pompe when all is sayde and done Doth vade away lyke Snowe against the Sonne A tyme of byrth Dame Nature doth vs giue A tyme to dye shée lykewise doth prouyde No sooner doe we fyrst beginne to liue But straight to death vnwares a way we slyde And yet alas our fancies are so frayle That all our ioye is here to hoyse vp Sayle But such as set their Heauen of lingering lyfe In pleasures lap whose froward tickle whéele Sayth wisdoms sonne with frowning turne is ryse To drowne their blisse that blyndly so doe réele By searche shall fynde eche fléeting pleasure vaine When Uertues Impes with Uertue highe shall raigne Then who so sées the Sugar strawde on Gall And shunnes the same by sacred Uertues skill Shall safely stande when Follyes children fall That héedlesse holde Dame pleasures wanton will Thus Uertue stayeth when Uices steps doe slyde So are they blest that doe in Uertue byde ¶ Prosperitie ought not cause presumption nor aduersitie force dispayre WHere Fortune fauoreth not what labor may preuaile Whō frowning fate wil néeds thrust down what shal he win to waile With pacient mind to yéeld is sure the soundest way And cast our cares and griefe on him that fatall force doth sway For Death
here dost finde with griefe perplexed so Whose present state to learne why dost thou thus require Smale gayne to thée great paine to me to yéelde so thy desire Yet sithe against my will thine eares haue heard the plainte Which in this desarte place I paste to ease my brest attainte Thus much at thy request I further will reueale As for the rest this corps of mine for euer shall conceale Whom earst a friend I founde me causlesse hath forsaken What wouldst thou more this is the summe that I with sighes am shaken But cruel fate I feare doth force it so to be Adue farewell let this suffice inquier no more of me Which saide away he goes God knoweth a wofull wight And leaues me there with sorrow fraight y t sought to take delight ¶ Of Fancie THe kindled sparkes of fyre that Fancies motions moue Do force me féele though I ne sée nor know not what is loue Desyre on ruth doth runne imbracing griefe for game Whose ioye is like the Flies delight that fries amid the flame It yéelds and mercy craues yet wots not who makes warres The only thing it sées or knowes is one that loue preferres ¶ Aunswere YOu loue belike to fréese amid the flame To wéepe in ioye to ioy in great distresse To laugh in teares to leape and yet be lame Midst gréeuous myrth gladsome heauinesse To sinck in dread and not to séeke redresse You Titius lyke doe play this wofull parte You loue the Grype that tyers vpon your harte ¶ Euer sought neuer founde THe more I striue the stronger is my thrall The stronger thrall the weaker still mine ayde The weaker ayde the greater griefe doth fall The greater griefe the more with doubt dismayde Where lyfe I reache there dollor biddes me die In swéetest soyle I straine the greatest Snake My cares increase when comfort drawes most nie From dainty pray I pearsing poyson take Still pynde in tolde I parched am with heate As fyre I flye vpon the flame I runne In swelting gleames my chylly corps I beate Congealde to Ice where shynes the cléerest sunne Loe thus I lyue and lyuing thus I dye Drownde in dispayre with hope aduaunced hye ¶ A Poesie THe valiant minde by venture gaines the Goale Whyles fearefull wightes in doubt doe blow the coale ¶ Aunswere BUt wary wightes by wisedome shunne the snare When venterous minds through hast are wrapt in care ¶ Euery thing is as it is taken SOme onely for disporte a kinde of myrth doth rayse For which of some they finde dislyke of some they purchase prayse The Tale that some clowte vp with rude vnciuill sence Doth more delight the eares of some then swéetest eloquence The Foole sometimes doth please when wise aside are shake Then true it is that euery thing is as men liste it take Who hath by knowledge skyll of euery foote the length Or can he always hit the marke y t drawes the greatest strengthe Some carpe at others factes that nought themselues will vewe And some by high disdaine doe séeke to mende Apelles shue What some in others spurne themselues would not forsake But wylie Foxe from lofty Uine doth vow no grapes to take A worde paste forth in sporte to earnest oft doth turne So where there was no fire before great flames on sodain burne Not one mans children all echs Nature is not léeke But who hath mean to measure wil shal giue the greater gléeke First looke then leape the blind doth run in many a brake And eche thing still by proofe we sée is as men list it take Who so doth rule his rage by wisdoms sacred skill No doubt shal shunne ful great annoy that follows rashnes still And who his tongue can stay till place and time doe serue His mind at large may better speake and greater praise deserue Though friends like friends would shade the sun beams for thy sake Yet al things are assuredly as men them list to take But al not friends in déede of friendships bounds that bostes Take héede no house may long indure propt vp w c rotten postes Some rotten are at harte yet beares a friendly face And vnder cloke of fawning shews a Serpents sting thimbrace Tis hard to know of whom we certaine counte may make For though they smile yet thee they déeme as they thée list to take As they thée list to take suche shalbe their reporte Malicious minds are euer prest against the vertuous sorte Be chary in thy choice least frawde thy faith abuse Of sundrie sectes embrace the best the flattering flock refuse Thus warely runne thy race eschew the lurcking Snake Imbrace the good as for the rest no force how they thée sake ¶ To his Lady of her doubtfull aunswere TWixt death and doubtfulnesse Twixt paine and pensiuenesse Twixt Hell and heauynesse Rests all my carefulnesse O vaine securitie That will not libertie Fye on that fantasie That brings captiuitie My lyfe is lothsomnesse My pleasure pastimelesse My ende your doubtfulnesse If you be mercylesse In doubt is iealoste Hope helpeth miserie Most women commonly Haue aunswers readily ¶ Helpe best welcome when most needefull THe bitter smarte that straines my mated minde Through quelling cares that threate my woful wrack Doth prick me on against my wyll I finde To pleade for grace or else to pine in lack As fainting soule sokt vp with sickly paine Prayeth Phisicks aide in hope of helth againe Whilste Sea roomes serues the shipman feares no foyle In quiet Porte there néedes no Pilotes Arte But when through wearie winters tyring toyle Cléere Sommers calmes to carefull clowds conuarte And streaming stormes at hand do danger threate Then Masters ayde is sought in perrill great So I right Noble Péere and Lodestarre mine Whose Pynnis smale an vpright course hath ronne In seruice yours am forced nowe in fine Mine ancors worne my sayles and tackling donne In humblest wise your honors help to craue My foredriuen ship from swallowing vp to saue You are the Hauen whereon my hope depends And I the Barck vpon the drie shore dryuen You eke the lan̄de that chéerefull Pilotte lends And I the wight whom Seas to wrack hath giuen What resteth then if Harbour you denye But that my shyp must perishe sinck and dye For now to late to sownde some other shore And he that hath and should by nature ayde Withdrawes his hande and sayth he may no more Loe thus alas I liue lyke one dismayde Twixte death and doubt still surgde vpon the sande Stayde vp by hope to light on fyrmer lande But oh O me where Autumne fruitelesse slydes A barren hope to Hiems falles by kinde In Haruest tyme whose trauaile nought prouydes A nypping Winter shall be sure to finde So carelesse youth that wastes his yeares in vaine In age repents bereft of hope or gaine As yeares increase vncertaine hope séemes harde When sicknesse sharpe hath gathered greatest force Then Phisicks cure doth séeme a swéete rewarde Which you may yéelde if please you take
so right That Heauen for hyre vnto thy lotte may light With gréedie minde so wrest not worldly gayne That soule doe spill for slyding pleasures vayne Suffised be with that sufficient is And séeke the things that bring eternall blisse So shalt thou here not onely purchase prayse But after eke enioy most happie dayes ¶ To his Mistresse MAye name of seruaunt to familier séeme For such whose seruice neuer swarude awry Can Noble mindes so base of those estéeme That fréely yéelde for them to liue or dye No no some further fetche conceyued is Which hath withdrawne from me that wonted name How so it be if I be more amisse Then sounde good will hath once desarued blame The wrekfull Gods powre downe vpon my hed Such sharpe reuenge as neuer man did féele And let my Ghost in Lymbo lowe be led To Tantals thyrst or prowde Ixions whéele What wouldst thou more if I not wishe thee well In Plutos Den then let me lyue and dwell ¶ Rewarde doth not alwayes aunswere deserte SIth my desyre is prest to please Though not with glosing showe And eke my deeds if proofe were made Should tell what fayth I owe. Where to shall I impute my hap To Fate or wante of skill When nought I finde but tickle trust Where most I meane good will ¶ Who hurte must heale THe sparkes of loue within my brest doe daylie so increase That euery vain on fyre is set which none but y u mayst cease So that in thée consists my woe in thée likewise my wealth In thée with spéede to hast my death in thée to giue me health O pittie then his restlesse state that yeeldes him to thy will Sithe loe in thée it wholy lyes my life to saue or spill That neyther doe I glose or faine I Ioue to witnesse call Who knows the heat of fixed harts when they to loue are thrall And shall I thus a wofull Wight in rigor still remayne Shal such as smale good wil me beare thy grace frō me restrayne Shall false perswation so preuaile to let our wished ioye Shall fayth and troth for their rewarde reape naught but sharpe annoy Or else shal want of pyning welth retract my iust desier Do not the Gods at pleasure theirs the lowe estate raise higher Is not the worlde and all therein at their disposing still Doth it not rest in them to giue and take from whom they will No recklesse race 〈◊〉 shalt thou runne ne follow vaine delight In yéelding help to cure his harme that holds thée dearst in sight Ne yet from tip of Fortunes whéele y u shalt ne slide nor swarue Such hope I haue of better hap the Fates do yet resarue Thy person not thy pelfé is all I wishe and craue Which more I vowe I do estéeme then heaps of coyne to haue The greatest Princes aye by proofe lead not the pleasantst lyfe Nor euery maide that maryeth welth becoms the happiest wyfe ¶ Of Loue. ANd if Loue be Lorde who or what is he If Loue be not who then bereaues my rest If no suche thing alas what ayleth me What bréedes suche broyle what woundes my yéelding brest To tell what tis doth passe my knowledge farre But who so loues I sée doth liue in warre ¶ Of Bayes and Willow SHewe forth your Bayes that boaste of swéete delightes For I ne may such blisfull hap attayne The Willow branche most fit for wofull wightes Beholde I beare a badge of secret payne Which loe my sides enshryne and shall doe still Till cruell Fate hath wrought on me her will ¶ An Epitaph vpon the death of the Lady Katherine late Countesse of Pembrooke IF suche doe mourne whose solace is bereft And sighs séeme sharpe to those whom sorrowes sting If cares increase where comforte none is left And griefs do grow where pensiue thoughts do spring Then be we sure our Lorde in sadde annoy Doth wayle her death whose lyfe was all his ioy If he alas with sobs her losse bemones May seruaunts spare their sighes abroade to sende Shall they in secret shrowde their gryping grones When maysters playnts may haue no power to ende No no déepe dole our pensiue sides would pearce If we in teares our sorrowes not rehearce Then mourne with me my wofull fellows all And tryll your teares your drooping chéekes adowne Gushe forth a gulfe of griefes let floodes downe fall To wayle her wante that sprang of high renowne Who whyles she liude did sundry séeke to ayde But Death O Death thou hast them all dismayde The chéerefull spring that doth eche soyle adourne With pleasant showes whereby delight is taken Doth moue our mindes alas the more to mourne Our Ladie lost in source of sorrowes shaken Which loe in Uer to heauen hath tane the waye To her great gayne but oh to our decaye If Princes loue if husbands care or Coyne If Noble friends if proofe of Phisicks lore By long attempt could sicknesse vndermoyne Or search of forrein soyle might health restore We should not yet haue séene the sonne to vade Whose clipsed light hath turnde our shyne to shade But when the twyste of this our fyme is wownde No meanes by man may serue the same to stretch Our lottes are layde our bodyes haue their bownde Tyme swiftly runnes with short and curelesse breatch Though world we weld in seate of Princely sway Yet swarues our state as shade that slydes away The glittering shewes of highest glory héere Consumes to nought like clowds disperst with winde And all that Nature from the earth doth reare Returnes againe whence first it came by kinde But Uertues webbe which loe this Lady sponne Shall last for aye new these her dayes be done Her praise on earth lyke Palme shal florishe still Her Noble déedes shall liue and neuer dye Her sacred steps that sought eche vice to kill Shall mounte aloft though lowe in earth she lye Who euen when latter pangues opprest her most Did mercy craue in yéelding vp the Ghost What would you more her lyfe and death was such As déeper head could not commend to much Ultimum vale FArewell thou Pearle that Princes fauour founde Farewell the Saint that shielded our annoy Farewell the Hauen whose harbor was full sounde Farewell the Barke that brought her Chiefetaine ioy Farewell thou Spowse to him that held thee deare Farewell the Lampe that gaue such gladsome light Farewell of modest Dames a Mirrour cleare Farewell the shryne where vertue shyned bright Farewell thou minde that mente to no wight ill Farewell the harte that lodged honor aye Farewell the hande that helpt the needie still Farewell the staffe that sought the weake to stay Loe here in teares my last farewell I take What Heauens will haue the earth must needes forsake ¶ In aduersitie is best seene Vertues excellency WHen Boreas rough had leauelesse left eche frée And horie Hiems gan his raigne to holde In walking forth I might discerne and sée A stately Palme her branches gréene vnfolde At sight
he that earst should néedes haue dide No trespasse made when truth was tride Loe thus beholde the guyltlesse wight Had Conscience not bene present tho Through false report and déepe despight Condemde had béene to death to go By which you well may learne and sée The faultlesse ofte condemned bée Let pittie therfore moue your minde To stay your doome till truth be tryde So you by search shall easily finde That I from truth did neuer slyde As tyme by triall shall declare I aske no more so spoyle or spare ¶ He complayneth his mishap with promise to keepe her honor THe wandring Outlaw borne to woe and bred a banisht man Untaught the suttle sleights of loue of loue this tale began When fyrst my sences dranke the swéete that gaue my body blood I felt no Foe to let my loue nor God against my good Tyll luste misreckned my delightes my wandring ioyes to ende And founde her out to stay such toyes to stande my trustie friende I boast the graunt if all were giuen it may would God it might O happie man more happie mayde if all had hit aright Mishap withholdes no meane to hope to purchase my pretence Beautie me rauisht first and now renength without offence Thus like a childe agayne vntaught the sleightes of dayntie mindes Such nurture take I of my Nurse as Nature iustly bindes These sides enshrine her stately loue if other thoughts she haue She shall possesse that I professe and yet her honor saue ¶ G. To his Ladye I Sée in loue some farther fetch there is Than reason can reueale to me that would Accuse the cause that makes me think amis And finde the fault of such vntempred mould Of sundry workes doe diuers wonders growe Yet skill shewes why and how they should be so I sée the Sunne both moue and melt and chaunge At once both dry and dew the dustie sande Yet are the raging stormes of loue so straunge As I forbeare the cause to vnderstande Except I should impute it to the wurst And curse the kinde that neuer Louer durst I sée the starre that guydes my stirring loue The goodly Saint that sacrifice deserues Sometime I sayle and sinke for feare to prooue And oft my solemne obsequies reserue Yet but for loue her passing giftes deuine Nature had neuer made them halfe so fine I sée the secrets of my wofull eyes Must seeke to rest on no such perfitnesse Would they had kept her still aboue the skyes Where first she tooke alluring comlynesse But sith her shape no mortall man may craue Yéelde honor such as fittes her best to haue ¶ For finale offence smale punishment MY Lady giues the reyne to her despite And lightly she beléeues what others fayne With death she vowes my seruice to requite And payes me not with like good will againe So that she séekes to trusse vp my good will With trusting those that euer ment me ill The murdring Knyfe for my offencelesse crime I see preparde to gore my guyltlesse blood The cruell voyce of rough condemning rime Hath scapte her mouth and maye not be withstood Yet let her date my death with this one line Here lyeth my Seruant buryed in his Shrine If mercie fayle there is no other charme If that preuayle vngracious luck farewell My guiltlesse trespasse shall escape the harme That enuye wisht on me to haue befell Of my estate let her say yea or nay I most regarde her doome for to obay From heauen the grace of gentle minds descends And like the maker should the matter bée Then let my Mistres when she wrath pretends Affects of mercie in the Gods fore see And when she graunts to follow them in that Let her recure and pardon she knowes what ¶ Loues myghtinesse growes by Louers weaknesse IF power of warre had yéelded to renowne Of curteous hartes the Gods had then agréede Disgraded Saturne had not tumbled downe Nor loue had durst in Goldlike Artes proceede O cowardly Gods against your kinde to sée Your selues your sonnes the slaues of loue to bée Could loue take league with Ioue against his will Or staine the streame of Neptunes water Springs And could not Pluto kéepe his honor still But giue the Heauens and Hilles to other kings In faith the face amongst swéete soules should dwell That conquered these in spite of powers in Hell ¶ A comparison of his troubles GReat swelling floodes are soone dried vp with meaner calmes I sée And mightie Frostes with gentle heate are woont dissolude to bée The darkest clowdes in th'ayre tost depart with no great winde Yet can the tempest of my care no quyet harbor finde ¶ I. K. to H. being sicke THe sickly state thou griped art withall When brute had blowne and sounded to mine eare From eare to heart the sodaine noyse did fall And there begins to change my choise of my cheare For choyce is past néedes must I match with mone When hope is crackt what comfort may endure The best parte eke of me to gréefe is gone Scant then the partes beside may well be sure Yet feare not H. quayle not be of good cheare Thy Kéeper bids thée haue a hardy harte Be lyke a man the weather will be cleare If not for thée yet cause not me to smarte So being bolde in thine extremitie Thou shalt saue two that is both thée and me ¶ Aunswere H. THe plunged state wherein I restlesse lay When these thy lynes were brought before my view A certaine tyme began to cease and stay And still mée thought my pinching paine withdrew To beare from thée such comfort did ensue But when at last I learned had thy gréese My comfort fledde bereft was all reléefe And then a newe my crased corps in paine Lay languisht long not knowing what were best A thousand thoughts within my troubled braine So mooude my minde that vnneth could I rest The slypping ioyes that worldly wights possest Loe then I sawe full soone awaye did slide And nothing was that still might stande or bide No Forte so strong no Bulwarke raysde so sure But tyme consumes and tumbleth downe at last Mannes force is frayle and lyke the féeble flowre That bendes and breaks with euery little blast His dangers great his pleasures soone surpast As now by me appeares whose ioyes doe vade Whose griefe doth grow whose comfort glides to glade Whose lyfe lyke smoke doth slylie slynck awaye Whose Rock is réelde whose fatall thréed is spunne Whose dreame doth ende whose slumbring sléepe doth staye Whose web is wouen whose Glasse is welnie runne Whose parte is playde whose tale is tolde and done Whose will doth yéelde to leaue this wretched vale Where naught is sure but driry Death most pale ¶ Of Friendship WHo holds himselfe most deare and hath his wante Although he would he may not store his friend But he that séekes his secrets there to plante Where wealth is frée shall finde a quyet ende Giue me the poorest man to triumph on Or welthiest friend or let me
white Let all of gréene Lawrell bedeck thy Garland Though some distill their teares That wrythed Willow weares Yet fainte not at their feares Séeme not to dread The wisest haue done so The Ualiant wrapt in wo Haue taken ouerthrow By Fancie led Where wyt is constrayned by will to giue place Their songs are of sorrow that ioyes would embrace Sing all of gréene Lawrell Let no deceytfull shewes of Venus bright shine Haue power once to pierce the sounde harte of thine So shall the gréene Lawrell set forth thy garland Waygh not the wauering minde That fléetes with euery winde Tyll thou some stay doe finde Trust not to farre Unto Dame Constancy Bende still thy battery Flye fast from flattery With bewtie make warre So shall thy well lyking not harme thée at all For fayth fixed firmely such fauour will fall That all of gréene Lawrell c. When others in dolor their wrack shall bewayle Thy shyp on the sounde seas in safetie may sayle Where crownde with gréene Lawrel in ioy thou shalt sing ¶ No newe fancies shall alter olde lyking THough Paris prayse Apollos Impe gan stayne When change of choyce his fickle humor fedde And Carthage cryes with strayned voyce complayne On periurde Prince by night that faithlesse fledde Though Iasons heste Medea founde vntrue And others mo there be whose fancye past That skorne the olde still haunting after newe Wythin whose hartes no léeking long may last Yet tyll syr Phebus beames shall lose their light And Ocean Seas doe cease to ebbe and flowe Untill the day shall turne to perfite night And Natures course against her kinde shall goe My fixed fayth vnspotted shall remayne What would you more I vowe I doe not fayne ¶ A Dreame WHen Phebus bright was setled in the West And darknesse dimme the earth had ouerspread When sylent night that moues eche thing to rest With quyet pawse had plaste me in my bed In stombring Dreame me thought I heard a wyght His woes bewayle that grewe through loues despyght Whose wearing wéede and vestures all were gréene Saue that his loynes with black were girded rounde And on his brest a badge of blewe was séene In signe his fayth and truth remayned sounde He sighed oft and said O blisfull hier When hope with hap may ioye in his desier But still to hope and finde therein no fruite To be in bed and restlesse there remayne To séeke to serue and daylie make pursute To such as set but light of weary payne Doth bréede such balefull dole within the brest As quyte bereaues all ioye and quyet rest Though taste of sower deserue the swéete to gayne Yet cruell Fate I sée the same denyes So that desyre and wisdome prooues but vayne Without accorde and fauour of the Skyes But stedfast hope séeme not quoth he to quayle The heauens in tyme may turne to thine auayle Scarse had he thus his wofull spéeche concluded When wake I did and sawe my selfe deluded ¶ The lamentable ende of Iulia Pompeis Wyfe SOre plungde in gréeuous paynes and wofull smarte Bedewed with trickling teares on Death like face Downe trylles the drops on chéekes sighs from hart To heare and sée her husbands dolefull case Thus goes thys spouse the wofull Iulia Besprent with bloud when Pompeis Cote she saw Downe dead she falles in lamentable sounde Of sence bereft so great was sorrowes strayne The chylde conceyude within by deadly wounde Untymely fruite came forth with pinching payne When all was done for loue her lyfe she lost For Pompeis sake shée yéelded vp her Ghost So dead she laye bewaylde with many teares A Matrone wise a famous Ornament O Caesar she had séene full chéerefull yeares If thou with Pompey couldst haue bene content But ciuill warres hath wrought this fatall stryfe To Pompey death to Iulia losse of lyfe ¶ Secrecy for some sorrowes a needefull remedy LIke as the captiue Wight in chayned lincks doth lye And hopes at Sise to be releast is thē condemde to dye Euen so alas my lot by frowning fate doth fall That sought to féede on swéete delight but found most bitter Gall. My restlesse labor lost I iustly may compare To Sisiphus that neuer sleepes and griefe to Titius care For after sundry stormes when calme I thinke to finde More rougher rage a new doth rise to straine my daunted minde And when my quelling cares I seeke by meanes to cure Most deepest dynte of inwarde woe alas I doe endure Prometheus pincht with payne nor Ixion whyrlde on wheele More grypes by griefe doe not sustaine then I vnhappy feele The somme of my vnrest yet couert will I keepe And secretly my sorrowes sup when others sounde doe sleepe To ease my pensyue brest a Uearse though here I frame The bursting forth of sorrows mine shal bréed no further blame My sydes shall shryne this smart my hart shall wast with woe Ere I the secrete of my cause bewray to friend or foe Saue onely to the Saint that swayes my lyfe at wyll Whose pittie may prolong the same or crueltie may kyll ¶ The ende of lyfe the begynning of blysse WHy shoulde we feare to dye Or séeke from Death to flye When Death the way doth make Eche worldly woe to slake By whome we passe to ioye Where neuer comes annoye Our tryflying tryumphs héere Though we estéeme them deere Are like to vapours vayne That waste with little rayne Deluding Dreames in déede Whereon our fancies féede What yéelde our pleasures all But swéetenesse mixt with Gall Their pryme of chiefest pride Unwares away doth slide Whose shewe of swéete delight Oft dymmes our perfyte sight Though Ioue in loftie seate Haue placed Princes great With Regall rule to raigne His glory to explaine Yet vades their pompe and powre As doth the wythred Flowre Loe here the surest staye The worlde doth yéelde vs aye Thy dearest friend to daye To morrow falles away Whose wante thou doest bewayle When teares may nought preuayle Sithe lyfe is myserie Uoyde of felicitie Full of anxietie Giuen to impietie The death I happy call That doth bereaue such thrall ¶ They soonest yeelde remedy that haue felt lyke extremetie THe flames of fyre and clowds of cold repugnant in my brest Hath quite exiled me from ioy and rest all quiet rest Yet oft alas in shewe I smile to shade my inwarde smarte When in my laughter waues of woe well nie do burst my harte Whose driery thoughts I would to God were séene so ful to thée As mine afflicted minde in payne doth powre them out on mée So should perhaps thy frozen hart now harde as Flintie stone Within thy brest w t melting teares take ruth on this my mone But as he well cannot discerne what tempest Saylers trye That neuer crost the checking tydes y t surge with waues on hye No more canst thou my cares descry for wante of ryper skill Although in déede the shewes thereof doe pleade for pittie still In vayne therfore my pensiue plaintes by Pen I doe expresse When both
with equall pace doth passe to Princes gate And there as at the Cottage poore doth knock in one like state The tyme or maner how the highst no more can tell Then poorest Peysant placed here in base estate to dwell Sithe then such féeble stay in mortall might we finde Why should the wante of worldly drosse in dole once daunt our minde The Iylman pore in toyle that spends the weary day Whose welth will scarce supply his wante when some whoorde heaps y t play Fals not to flat dispaire ne yet his labor leaues Though scarce y e stubble prooues his share when others shock the sheaues But liues with mind content more frée frō care strife Then those y t hunger highest hap where dangers dwel most rife Though prowde ambition blinde puft vp with glory vaine Detest their state that riches wante with hawty high disdaine The Seas oft troubled are by winds that whyrling flye When shallow streams yéeld water cléere in valleis low y t lye High Mountaynes set on fyre by lightning eke we sée When Pastures placed vnderneath in nothing altered bée The formost fronte in fight are néerest deadly wounde The lofty trée is soonst blowne down leueld with the grounde So such as thirst to clymbe to daunger most are thrall Whose slyding glory sawced is with honey mixt with Gall. For who so gript with griefe if Fortune liste to lowre As those that earst did féede at full vpon her fayrest flowre Which change full oft hath falne through her vnconstansnesse And whome she lately laught vpon throwne downe remedilesse Was Alexander great that many daungers past For all his mightie conquest wonne not slayne himselfe at last A kings sonne eke I finde for Fathers tyranny Constraynde to worke a Smith in Forge by harde necessity Such is the fading force of Fortunes fickle powre Whose fruitfulst fruite both rypes and rottes in lesse space then an howre Such is her tickle trust such are her slipper steps That what she séemes to sowe in ioy with sorrow oft she reaps Attribute all to him that fate doth guyde therefore With wylling mind embrace thy lot where rich thou be or pore ¶ Once warnde twice armde WHylste slye deceyte by sleight of smyling cheare Yéeldes tickling hope to dandle on our dayes We dread no guyle no doubling drift we feare Our sounde beliefe such setled trust doth rayse But when in fyne we finde our selues missed We blame the frawde that so our fancies fed And gripte with griefe our former trust we wayle Exclayming lowde that falshood so can fayne When glosing shewes clokt vnder friendships vayle Fals out but sleyght to foster hope in vayne Loe thus full oft what déemde hath bene the sunne Proofe Cynthea findes whose course more lowe doth runne As some haue tryde through time and trauell spente Who traynde by trust haue déemde good hap there plast Had swayed the soyle where ruine all to rente Hath due desart with rigour downe defast Whose short regarde for long imployed toyle May warne the wise of frawde to feare the foyle ¶ Flattery the Vayle of Frawde FAyre words foule déeds pretended and forethought Who can but hate that holds the feare of God Fayne you that lyst such practise prooues but nought Uyle diuelishe driftes prouoke Ioues wrathfull rod Which sure will fall if we in synne perseuer Shame is the fruite of frawde and foule endeuor Wherein beholde some maske in Nettes at Noone Yet déeme they walke in clowdes of close disguise Hoyste vp in thought to reache beyonde the Moone When all the worlde their couert cunning spyes But these to name my pen and spéeche shall spare Who medleth least least cumbred is with care It me suffizen may to note their driftes That wéene by wyles the worlde to weald at will Their glosing shewes their slye and guylefull shiftes To trayne such on as fynde not out their skyll Whose turnes to serue though fooles a tyme be dandled The wyser wincke that sée how things are handled ¶ No greater contrariety then in the passions of Loue. IN wyll to strong in worke to weake is loue In hope to bolde in feare more faynte then néedes In thought a thousand guyles it stryues to proue In guyle suspition painefull passions bréedes Suspition easely yéelds to light beléefe And light beléefe to iealousie is thrall The iealous mynde deuoures it selfe with griefe Thus loue at once doth frye fréese ryse and fall On pleasures paste to thinke it takes delighte Whyles present blisse by fonde conceyte it balkes Although the fruite it fynde be pensiue plight For better chaunce yet carelesse on it walkes These are the séedes that Venus Baby sowes As taste they shall the bitter crop that mowes ¶ In vttering of sorrowe some solace MY carefull case and pensiue pyning plight Constraynth my Pen against my will to wright The plunged state wherein I lyue and dwell Doth force me forth my dolefull tale to tell My heaped woes all solace sets asyde Whose secret smarte alas I faine would hyde But as the subiect Oxe to yoke must yéelde So vanquisht wightes are forste forsake the féelde My lucklesse lotte denies me all releife I séeke for helpe but finde increase of griefe I languishe still in long and déepe dispaire Yet shunne to shewe the cause of this my care I couet nought that reason might denye Ne doe I séeke by meanes to mounte on hye But what I séeke if I the same might finde Then easde should be mine vncontented mynde ¶ Miserie the ende of Letchery O Fylthy Letchery Fyre of foule fraylty Nursse to ympietie Warre pryde and ielouste Whose substance is gluttony Whose smoke is infamy Whose sparkes are vanity Whose flame obscurity Whose coles impurity And ashes mysery ¶ The paines of Louers great but mine grieuous THe Frost in flame that Louers finde And swelting heat in chilly colde So quite contrary are by kinde As strange it séemeth to beholde Strange is the feare that makes them fainte And strange the care that chokes their ioy Yet stranger passions me attaynte The onely Nursse of mine annoy ¶ Ruine the rewarde of Vice TO you fayre Dames whose bewties braue do floorish To you whose daintie dayes in ioye are spent To you whose prayse Dame Nature séekes to poolish To you whose fancie Venus doth frequent To you I wryte with harte and good intent That you may note by viewe of what I say How Natures giftes soone vade and slyde away Your loftie lookes time downe full lowe shall raze Your stately steps age eke will alter quite Your fraile desyre that kindleth Cupids blase Whose heate is prone to follow foule delight The whip shalbe that shall you sharply smite When euery vice that sproong of Fancies fittes Repentance brings to those the same committes Is not the pride of Helens prayse bereft And Cresside staynde that Troian knight imbrased Whose bewties bright but darke defame hath left Unto them both through wanton déedes preferred As they by dynte of Death their dayes haue