toyle the Seas Life ledd with losse of paines no lacke In stormes to winne muche restlesse case A bedlesse horde in seas vnrest Maie happ to hym that chaunseth best How sundrie sounds with lead and line Vnto the depe the shipman throwes No foote to spare he cries oft tymes No nere when how the master blowes If Neptune frown all be vndoen Strait waie the shipp the wrack hath won These daungers greate doe oft befall On those that there vpon the sande Iudge of their liues the best who shall How vile it is fewe vnderstande Alacke who then maie iudge their game Not thei whiche haue not felt the same But thei that fall in stormes and winde And daies and yeres haue spent therein Suche well may iudge since profe thei find In rage no rest till calme begin No more then those that loue doe faine Giue iudgement of true louers paine Finis W. H. No pleasure without some paine HOw can the tree but wast and wither awaie That hath not sometyme comfort of the Sonne How can that flower but fade and sone decaie That alwaies is with darke clouds ouer ronne Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knoweth no ioye at all What foodles beast can liue long in good plight Or is it life where sences there be none Or what auaileth eyes without their light Or els a tonge to hym that is alone Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knowes no ioye at all Whereto serue eares if that there be no sounde Or suche a head where no deuise doeth growe But all of plaints since sorrowe is the grounde Whereby the harte doeth pine in deadly woe Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knows no ioye at all Finis L. Vaux ¶ The fruites of fained frendes IN choise of frends what happy had I to chuse one of Cirenes kinde Whose harpe whose pipe whose melodie could feede my eares make me blinde Whose pleasant noise made me forget that in sure trust was great deceit In trust I see is treason founde and man to man deceitfull is And whereas Treasure doeth abounde of flatterers there doe not misse Whose painted speache and outward showe doe seme as frends and be not so Would I haue thought in thee to be the nature of the Crokadill Whiche if a man a slepe maie see with bloudy thirst desires to kill And then with teares a while gan wepe the death of hym thus slaine a slepe O flatterer false thou traitor borne what mischief more might thou deuise Then thy deare frende to haue in scorne and hym to wounde in sondrie wise Whiche still a frende pretends to be and art not so by profe I se Fie fie vpon suche trechery Finis W. H. Beyng importunate at the length he obtaineth A. SHall I no waie winne you to graunt my desire B. What woman will graunt you the thyng you require A. You onely to loue me is all that craue B. You onely to leaue me is all I would haue A. My deare alas now saie not so B. To loue you best I must saie no A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. The swifter I followe then you fly awaie B. Swift hauks in their fliyng oft times misse their pray A. Yet some killeth dedly that flie to the marke B. You shall touche no feather thereof take no carke A. Yet hope shall further my desire B. You blowe the coales and raise no fire A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. To loue is no daunger where true loue is ment B. I will loue no ranger lest that I repent A. My loue is no ranger I make God auow B. To trust your smoth saiyngs I sure knowe not how A. Moste truthe I meane as tyme shall well trie B. No truthe in men I oft espie A Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. Be shrewe me than A. Some women maie saie naie and meane loue moste true B. Some women can make fools of as wise men as you A. In tyme I shall catche you I knowe when and where B. I will sone dispatche you you shall not come there A. Some speds at length that oft haue mist B. I am well armed come when you list A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. Yet worke your kinde kindly graunt me loue for loue B. I will vse you frendly as I shall you proue A. Moste close you shall finde me I this doe protest B. Then sure you shall binde me to graunt your request A. O happie threde now haue I sponne B. You syng before the conquest wonne A. Why then will you swarne B. euen as you deserue A. Loue still B. I will A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. come to me than Finis M. B. ¶ Requiryng the fauour of his loue She aunswereth thus M. WHat death maie be compared to loue H. What grief therein now doest thou proue M. My paines alas who can expresse H. I see no cause of heauinesse M. My Ladies looks my wo hath wrought H. Then blame thyne eyes that first haue sought M. I burne alas and blowe the fire H. A foole consumes by his desire M. What shall I do than H come out and thou can H. Alas I die M. what remedie M. My sugred sweete is mixed with gall H. Thy Ladie can not doe with all M. The more I seeke the lesse I finde H. Then striue not with the streame and winde M. Her must I loue although I smarte H. With thy owne sworde thou slaiest thy harte M. Suche pleasaunt baites who can refraine H. Suche beats will sure brede the greate paine M. What shal I do than H. Come out and thou can H. Alas I die M. what remedie M. Her golden beames myne eyes doe daze H. Vpon the Sonne thou maiest not gaze M. She might reward my cruell smarte H. She thinks thou bearest a fained harte M. She laughs to heare my wofull cries H. Forsake her then in tyme be wise M. No no alas that maie not bee H. No wise man then will pitie thee M. What shall I do than H. come out and thou can M. Alas I die H. what remedie M. A liuyng death loe thus I proue H. Suche are the fruts of froward loue M. O that I might her loue once againe H. Thy gaine would not halfe quite the paine M. Her
wherin we liued My ladyes life alas is gone most cruel death hath it bereued Whose vertues her to God hath wonne And least me here a man vndone Finis F. G. 24. A woorthy dittie song before the Queenes Maiestie at Bristowe MIstrust not troth that truely meanes for euery ielous freke In steade of wrong condemne not right no hiddeÌ„ wrath to wreke â–ª Looke on the light of faultlesse life how bright her vertues shine And measure out her steppes eche one by leuel and by line Deeme eche desert by vpright gesse whereby your prayse shal liue If malice would be match with might let hate no iudgement geue Enforse no feare with wresting wittes in quiet conscience brest Lend not your eares to busie tongues which breedeth much vnrest In doubtfull driftes wade not to farre it weeries but the mind Seeke not to search the secret harts whose thoughtes are hard to find Auoide from you those hatefull heads that helpes to heape mishapp Be flowe to heare the flatterers voyce which creepeth in your lapp Embrace their loue that wills you good and sport not at their praise Trust not too much vnto your selfe for feeble are your staies Howe can your seate be setled fast or stand on stedfast ground So propped vp with hollowe hartes whose suertie is vnsound Geue faith to those that feare for loue and not that loue for feare Regard not them that force compels to please you euery where All this well waide and borne away shall stablishe long your state Continually with perfect peace in spite of puffing hate Finis D. S. 26. His good name being blemished he bewayleth FRaud is the front of Fortune past all recouerie I stayles stand to abide the shocke of shame and infamie My life through lingring long is lodge in lare of lothsome wayes My death delaide to keepe from life the harme of haplesse dayes My sprites my hart my witte and force in deepe distresse are dround The only losse of my good name is of these greefes the ground And since my mind my wit my head my voyce and tongue are weake To vtter mooue deuise conceiue sound foorth declare and speake Such pearsing plaintes as answeare might or would my wofull case Helpe craue I must and craue I wyll with teares vpon my face Of al that may in heauen or hell in earth or ayre be found To wayle with me this losse of mine as of these greefes the ground Helpe gods helpe saintes helpe sprites powers that in the heauen doo dwel Helpe ye that are to wayle aye woont ye howling hounds of hel Helpe man helpe beasts helpe birds wormes that on the earth doth toile Helpe fishe helpe foule that flocks and feedes vpon the salt sea soyle Helpe eccho that in ayre dooth flee shryl voyces to resound To wayle this losse of my good name as of these greefes the ground Finis E. O. 27. Of Fortunes power POlicrates whose passing happe causd him to lose his fate A golden ryng cast in the seas to change his constant state And in a fishe yet at his bourd the fame he after found Thus Fortune loe to whom she takes for bountie dooth abound The myzers vnto might she mountes a common case we see And mightie in great miserie she sets in lowe degree Whom she to day dooth reare on hie vpon her whitling wheele To morowe next shedingeth downe and casteth at her heele No measure hath shee in her gifts shee doth reward eache sort The wise that counsell haue no more then fooles that maketh sport Shee vseth neuer partiall handes for to offend or please Geue me good Fortune all men sayes and throw me in the seas It is no fault or worthines that makes men fall or rise I rather be borne Fortunate then to be very wise The blindest man right soone that by good Fortune guided is To whome that pleasant Fortune pipes can neuer daunce amis Finis M. Edwardes 28. Though Triumph after bloudy warres the greatest brags do beare Yet Triumph of a conquered minde the crowne of Fame shall weare WHo so doth marke the carelesse life of these vnhappie dayes And sees what small and slender hold the state of vertue stayes He findes that this accursed trade proceedeth of this ill That men be giuen too much to yeelde to their vntamed will. In lacke of taming witlesse wil the poore we often see Enuies the ritch because that he his equall cannot bee The rich aduauned to might by wealth from wrong doth not refraine But will oppresseth weaker sort to heape excessiue gaine If Fortune were so blinde to geue to one man what he will A world would not suffise the same if he might haue his fill We wish we searche we striue for all and haue no more therin Then hath the slaue when death doth come though Cresus welth we win In getting much we get but care such brittle wealth to keepe The rich within his walles of stone doth neuer soundly sleepe When poore in weake and slender house doe feare no losse of wealth And haue no further care but this to keepe them selues in health Affection may not hide the sword of sway in iudgement seat Least partiall law doe execute the lawe in causes great But if the minde in constant state affection quite doe leaue The higher state shall haue their rights the poore no wrong receaue It is accompted greater praise to Ceasars loftie state Against his vanquist foes in warres to bridle wrekefull hate Then when to Rome he had subdued the people long vnknowne Wherby as farre as land was found the same abrode was â—lowne If honor can selfe will refuse and iustice be vpright And priuate state desires but that which good appeares in sight Then vertue shall with soueraigne show to euery eye reueale A heauenly life a wealefull state a happie common weale Let vertue then the Triumph win and gouerne all your deedes Your yeelding to er sober heastes immortall glory breede Shee shall vpreare your worthy name shew then vnto the skies Her beames shall shine in graue obscure where shrined carkesse lâ—es Finis M. Edwardes 29 Of perfect wisedome WHo so will be accompted wise and truely claime the same By ioyning vertue to his deedes he must atchieue the same But fewe there be that seeke thereby true wisedome to attaine O God so rule our hearts therefore such fondnesse to refraine The wisedome which we moste esteeme in this thing doth consist With glorious talke to shew in wordes our wisedome when we list Yet not in talke but seemely deedes our wisedome we should place To speake so faire and doe but ill doth wisedome quite disgrace To bargaine well and shunne the losse a wisedome counted is And thereby through the greedie coyne no hope of grace to mis. To seeke by honoure to aduaunce his name to brittle praise Is wisedome which we daâ—ly see increaseth in our dayes But heauenly wisedome sower seemes to hard for them to win And weary of the sute they seeme when
nayd Well well let these with wisedomes passe be waide And in your chest of cheefest secreates laide What is or may be mine That is and shall be thine Till death the twist vntwine That doth our loues combine But if thy heart repine Thy body should be mine Shew me thereof some sine That I may slacke the line That knitts thy will to mine Finis My Lucke is losse 40 Donec eris Felix multos numerabis amicos Nullus ad amissus ibit amicus opes EVen as the Rauen the Crowe and greedie Rite Doe swarming flocke where carren corpes doth fall And tiring teare with beake and talentes might Both skin and fleshe to gorge their guttes withall And neuer cease but gather moe to moe Doe all to pull the carkase too and froe Till bared bones at last they leaue behinde And seeke elsewhere some fatter foode to finde Euen so I see where wealth doth waxe at will And Golde doth growe to heapes of great encrease There frendes resort and profering frendship still Full thicke they throng with neuer ceasing prease And stilie make a shew of true intent When nought but guile and inwarde hate is ment For when mischaunce shall chaunge such wealth to want They packe them thence to place of ritcher haunt Finis My Lucke is losse 41. What ioye to a contented mynde THe faithe that failes must nedes be thought vntrue The frende that faines who holdeth not vniust Who likes that loue that chaungeth still for newe Who hopes for truthe where trothe is voide of trust No faithe no frende no loue no trothe so sure But rather failes then stedfastly endure What head so staied that altereth not intent What thought so sure that stedfast doeth remaine What witte so wise that neuer nedes repent What tonge so true but sometyme wonts to faine What foote so firme that neuer treads awrie What soner dimde then fight of clerest eye What harte so fixt but some enclines to change What moode so milde that neuer moued debate What faithe so strong but lightly likes to range What loue so true that neuer learnde to hate What life so pure that lasts without offence What worldly mynde but moues with ill pretence What knot so fast that maie not be vntide What seale so sure but fraude or forse shall breke What prop of staye but one tyme shrinks aside What ship so stauche that neuer had a leke What graunt so large that no exception maks What hoped helpe but frende at nede forsaks What seate so high but lowe to grounde maie fall What hap so good that neuer founde mislike What state so sure but subiect is to thrall What force preuailes where Fortune liste to strike What wealth so muche but tyme maie turne to want What store so greate but wastyng maketh skant What profites hope in depth of dangers thrall What ruste in tyme but waxeth worse and worse What helpes good harte if Fortune froune withall What blessyng thriues gainst heauenly helples curse What winnes desire to get and can not gaine What botes to wishe and neuer to obtaine Finis My lucke is losse 42. Amantium irae amoris redintigratia est IN goyng to my naked bedde as one that would haue slept I heard a wife syng to her child that long before had wept She sighed sore and sang full sore to bryng the babe to rest That would not rest but cried still in suckyng at her brest She was full wearie of her watche and greued with her child She rocked it and rated it vntill on her it smilde Then did she saie now haue I founde the prouerbe true to proue The fallyng out of faithfull frends is the renuyng of loue Then tooke I paper penne and ynke this prouerbe for to write In regester for to remaine of suche a worthie wight As she proceded thus in song vnto her little bratte Muche matter vttered she of waight in place whereas she satte And proued plaine there was no beast nor creature bearyng life Could well be knowne to liue in loue without discorde and strife Then kissed she her little babe and sware by God aboue The fallyng out of faithfull frends is the renuyng of loue She saied that neither kyng ne prince ne lorde could liue aright Vntill their puissance thei did proue their manhode their might When manhode shal be matched so that feare can take no place Then wearie works makes warriours eche other to embrace And leaue their forse that failed thē whiche did consume the rout That might before haue liued their tyme and nature out Then did she syng as one that thought no man could her reproue The fallyng out of faithfull frendes is the renuyng of loue She saied she sawe no fishe ne foule nor beast within her haunt That mete a straunger in their kinde but could geue it a taunt Since fleshe might not indure but reste must wrathe succede And forse the fight to fall to plaie in pasture where thei feede So noble nature can well ende the works she hath begone And bridle well that will not cease her tragedy in some Thus in her songe she oft reherst as did her well behoue The fallyng out of faithfull frends is the renuyng of loue I meruaile muche pardy quoth she for to beholde the route To see man woman boy beast to tosse the worlde about Some knele some crouch some beck some check some cā smothly smile And some embrace others in armes and there thinke many a wile Some stande aloufe at cap and knee some humble and some stout Yet are thei neuer frends indeede vntill thei once fall out Thus ended she her song and saied before she did remoue The fallyng out of faithfull frends is the renuyng of loue M. Edwardes 43. Thinke to dye THe life is long whiche lothsomely doeth laste The dolfull daies drawe slowly to their date The present panges and painfull plags forepast Yelds greffe aye grene to stablishe this estate So that I feele in this greate storme and strife That death is sweete that shorteneth suche a life And by the stroke of this straunge ouerthrowe All whiche conflict in thraldome I was thrust The Lorde be praised I am well taught to knowe From whens man came and eke whereto he must And by the waie vpon how feble force His terme doeth stande till death doeth ende his course The pleasant yeres that semes so swetely ronne The mery daies to ende so fast that flete The ioyfull wights of whiche daies dawes so sone The happie howrs whiche mo doe misse then mete Doe all consume as snowe against the Sonne And death maks ende of all that life begonne Since death shall dure till all the worlde be wast What meaneth man to dread death then so sore As man might make that life should alwaie last Without regard the Lorde hath ledde before The daunce of death whiche all must runne on rowe The hower wherein onely hymself doeth knowe If man would mynde what burdeins life doeth bryng
What greuous crimes to God he doeth commit What plagues what panges what perill thereby spryng With no sure hower in all his daies to sit He would sure thinke and with greate cause I doo The daie of death is happier of the twoo Death is the doore whereby we drawe to ioye Life is a lake that drowneth all in paine Death is so dole it seaseth all awaie Life is so leude that all it yelds is vaine And as by life in bondage man is brought Euen so by death is freedome likewise wrought Wherefore with Paule let all men wishe and praie To be disolued of this foule fleshly masse Or at the least be armed against the daie That thei be founde good souldiers prest to passe From life to death from death to life againe And suche a life as euer shall remaine Finis D. S. 44. Beyng asked the occasion of his white head he aunswereth thus WHere sethyng sighes and sower sobbs Hath slaine the slipps that nature sett And skaldyng showers with stonie throbbs The kindly sappe from them hath fett What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where thought hath thrild and throne his speares To hurt the harte that harmth hym not And gronyng grief hath grounde for the teares Myne eyne to staine my face to spot What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where pinchyng paine hym self hath plaste There peace with pleasures were possest And walles of wealth are fallen to waste And pouertie in them is prest What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where wretched woe doeth weaue her webbe There care the clewe can catche and caste And floudds of ioye are fallen to ebbe So loe that life maie not long laste What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee These heere 's of age are messengers Whiche bidd me fast repent and praie Thei be of death the harbingers That doeth prepare and dresse the waie Wherefore I ioye that you maie see Vpon my head suche heere 's to bee Thei be the line that lead the length How farre my race was for to ronne Thei saie my yongth is fledde with strength And how old age is well begonne The whiche I feele and you maie see Vpon my head suche lines to bee Thei be the stryngs of sober sounde Whose Musicke is hermonicall Their tunes declare a tyme from grounde I came and how thereto I shall Wherefore I ioye that you maie see Vpon my head suche stryngs to bee God graunt to those that white heere 's haue No worse them take then I haue ment That after thei be laied in graue Their soules maie ioye their liues well spent God graunt likewise that you maie see Vpon my head suche heere 's to bee Finis L. V. I Would to God I were Acteon that Diana did disguise To walke the Forest vp and doune whereas my ladie lies An Harte of heere and hewe I wishe that I were so So that my Ladie knewe me onely and no mo The shalyng Nutts and Maste that falleth from the tree Should well suffice for my repast might I my ladie see It should not greue me there in frost to lye vpon the grounde Delite should easly quite the coste what euill so that I founde Sometyme that I might saie when I sawe her alone Beholde see yonder slaue aldaie that walketh the woodds alone Finis M.B. WHy should I lenger long to liue In this desease of fantasie Sins fortune doeth not cease to giue Things to my mynde moste contrarie And at my ioyes doeth lowre and froune Till she hath tourned them vpsidoune Affrende I had to me moste dere And of long tyme faithfull and iuste There was no one my harte so nere Nor one in whom I had more truste Whom now of late without cause why Fortune hath made my enemie The grasse me thinks should growe in skie The starres vnto the yearth cleaue faste The water streame should passe awrie The winds should leue their streÌ„gt of blast The Sonne and Moone by one assent Should bothe forsake the firmament The fishe in ayer should flie with sinne The foules in floud should bryng forth fry All thyngs me thinks should erst beginne To take their course vnnaturally Afore my frende should alter so Without a cause to bee my foe But suche is Fortunes hate I saie Suche is her will on me to wreake Suche spite she hath at me alwaie And ceasseth not my harte to breake With suche dispite of crueltie Wherefore then longer liue should I. Finis E. S. 47. Prudens The historie of Damacles Dionise WHoso is set in princly trone and craueth rule to beare Is still beset on euery side with perill and with feare High trees by stormie winds are shakt rent vp froÌ„ the grouÌ„d and flashy flaks of lightnings flames on turrets do robouÌ„d When little shrubs in sauetie lurke in couert all alowe And freshly florishe in their kynde what euer winde doe blowe The cruell kyng of Scisily who fearyng Barbars hands Was wont to singe his beard hym self with cole and fire brands Hath taught vs this the proofe whereof fuâ—l plainly we maye see Was neuer thyng more liuely touched to shewe it so to bee This kyng did seme to Damacles to be the happiest wight Because he thought none like to hym in power or in might Who did alone so farre excell the rest in his degree As doeth the Sunne in brightnes cleare the darkest starre we see Wilt thou then said this cruell kyng proue this my present state Possesse thou shalt this seate of myne and so be fortunate Full gladly then this Damacles this proferd honour tooke And shootyng at a princely life his quiet rest forsooke In honours seate then was he plast accordyng to his will Forthwith a banquet was preparde that he might feast his fill Nothyng did want wherein t was thought that he would take delite To feede his eye to fill his mouthe or please the appetite Suche store of plate I thinke in Grece there scarsly was so much His seruitours did Angels seme their passyng shape was suche No daintie dishe but there it was and thereof was suche store That throughout Grece so princly chere was neuer seen before Thus while in poÌ„pe and pleasures seate this Damacles was plast And did beginne with gladsome harte eche daintie dishe to taste At length by chaunce cast vp his eyes and gan the house to vewe And sawe a sight that hym enforst his princly state to rewe A sworde forsoth with dounward point that had no stronger thred Then one horse heere that peised it direct vpon his head Wherewith he was so sore amasde and shooke in euery parte As though the sworde that hong aboue had stroke hym to the hart Then all their pleasures toke their leaue sorowe came in place His heauie harte the teares declared that trickled doune his face And then forthwith
loue and leaue is all that I entend And yf you prooue in part and finde my counsell true Then wyshe me well for my good wyll t is all I craue adewe Finis My lucke is losse The perfect tryall of a faythfull freend NOt stayed state but feeble stay Not costly robes but bare aray Not passed wealth but present want Not heaped store but sclender skant Not plenties purse but poore estate Not happy happe but froward fate Not wyshe at wyll but want of ioy Not harts good health but hartes annoy Not freedomes vse but prisons thrall Not costly seate but lowest fall Not weale I meane but wretched woe Dooth truely trye the freend from foe And nought but froward fortune proues Who fawning faines or simply loues Finis Yloop. No pleasure without some payne SWeete were the ioyes that both might like and last Strange were the state exempt from all distresse Happy the lyfe that no mishap should tast Blessed the chaunce might neuer change successe Were such a lyfe to leade or state to proue Who would not wyshe that such a lyfe were loue But O the sowry sauce of sweete vnsure When pleasures flye and flee with wast of winde The trustlesse traynes that hoping hartes allure When sweete delightes doo but allure the minde When care consumes and wastes the wretched wight Whyle fancy feedes and drawes of her delight What lyfe were loue yf loue were free from payne But O that payne with pleasure matcht should meete Why dyd the course of nature so ordayne That sugred sowre must sause the bitter sweete Which sowre from sweete might any meanes remoue What happe what heauen what lyfe were lyke to loue Finis E. S. 1. Our pleasures are vanities BEhold the blast which blowes the blossomes from the tree The end whereof consumes and comes to nought we see Ere thou therefore be blowen from life that may not last Begin for grace to call for time mispent and past Haue mind on brittle life whose pleasures are but vayne On death likewyse bethinke how thou maist not remaine And feare thy Lord to greene which sought thy soule to saue To synne no more be bent but mercie aske and haue For death who dooth not spare the kinges on earth to kill Shall reape also from thee thy pleasure life and will. That lyfe which yet remaynes and in thy brest appeares Hath sowne in thée sutch seedes you ought to weede with teares And life that shall succeede when death is worne and past Shall spring for euer then in ioy or paine to last Where death on life hath power ye see that life also Hath mowen the fruites of death which neuer more shall growe FINIS D. S. 2. M. Edwardes MAY. WHen MAY is in his prime then MAY eche hart reioyce When MAY bedeckes eche branch with greene eche bird streines forth his voyce The liuely sappe creepes vp into the bloming thorne The flowres which cold in prison kept now laughes the frost to scorne All natures Impes triumphes whyles ioyfull May dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasant time is past MAY makes the cherfull hue MAY breedes and bringes newe blood MAY marcheth throughout euery limme MAY makes the mery moode MAY pricketh tender hartes their warbling notes to tune Ful strange it is yet some wee see doo make their MAY in Iune Thus thinges are straungely wrought whyles ioyfull MAY doth last Take MAY in time when MAY is gone the pleasant time is past All ye that liue on earth and haue your MAY at wyll Reioyce in MAY as I doo now and vse your MAY with skill Vse MAY whyle that you may for MAY hath but his time When all the fruite is gone it is to late the tree to clime Your liking and your lust is freshe whyles MAY dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasaunt time is past Finis 3. Faire woordes make fooles faine IN youthfull yeeres when fyrst my young desyres began To pricke mee foorth to serue in Court a sclender tall young man. My Fathers blessing then I askt vpon my knee Who blessing me with trembling hand these woordes gan say to me My sonne God guide thy way and shielde thee from mischaunce And make thy iust desartes in Court thy poore estate to aduaunce Yet when thou art become one of the Courtly trayne Thinke on this prouerbe olde qd he that faire woordes make fooles faine This counsell grauely geuen most strange appeares to me Tyll tract of time with open eyes had made me plainely see What subtill sleightes are wrought by painted tales deuise When hollowe hartes with freendly shoes the simple doo entise To thinke al golde that shines to feede their fonde desire Whose shiuering cold is warmd with smoke in stead of flaming fire Sith talke of tickle trust dooth breede a hope most vaine This prouerbe true by proofe I finde that faire woordes make fooles faine Faire speache alway doeth well where deedes insue faire woordes Faire speache againe alway dooth euil that busshes geues for birdes Who hopes to haue fayre woordes to trye his luckie lot If I may counsel let him strike it whyle the iron is hotte But them that feede on cloddes in steade of pleasaunt grapes And after warning often geuen for better lucke still gapes Full loth I am yet must I tell them in woordes plaine This prouerbe old proues true in them that faire words makes fooles faine Wo woorth the time that woordes so slowly turne to deedes Wo worth the time that faire sweete floures are growē to rotten weedes But thrise wo woorth the time that trueth away is fled Wherein I see how simple hartes with woordes are vainely fed Trust no faire woordes therefore where no deedes doo ensue Trust words as skilful Falkeners doo trust Haukes that neuer flew Trust deedes let wodrdes be woordes which neuer wrough me gaine Let my experience make you wyse and let woordes make fooles faine M. Edwardes 4. In his extreame sycknesse What greeues my bones and makes my body faint What prickes my flesh and teares my head in twaayne Why doo I wake when rest should me attaynt When others laugh why doo I liue in paine I tosse I turne I change from side to side And stretche me oft in sorowes linkes betyde I tosse as one betost in waues of care I turne to flee the woes of lothsome lyfe I change to spie yf death this corps might spare I stretche to heauen to ridde me of this strife Thus doo I stretche and change and tosse and turne Whyle I in hope of heauen by life doo burne Then holde thee still let be thy heauinesse Abolishe care forgeat thy pining woe For by this meanes soone shalt thou finde redresse When oft betost hence thou to heauen must goe Then tosse and turne and tumble franke and free O happy thryse when thou in heauen shalt be Finis L. Vaux 5. For Christmas day Reioyce reioyce with hart and voyce In Christes birth this day
reioyce FRom Virgins wombe this day dyd spring The precious seede that onely saued man This day let man reioyce and sweetely sing Since on this day saluation fyrst began This day dyd Christe mans soule from death remooue With glorious saintes to dwell in heauen aboue This day to man came pledge of perfect peace This day to man came loue and vnitie This day mans greefe began for to surcease This day did man receyue a remedie For eche offence and euery deadly sinne With guiltie hart that erst he wandred in In Christes flocke let loue be surely plaste From Christes flocke let concorde hate expell Of Christes flocke let loue be so embraste As we in Christe and Christe in vs may dwell Christe is the aucthour of all vnitie From whence proceedeth all felicitie O syng vnto this glittering glorious king O prayse his name let euery liuing thing Let hart and voyce like Belles of syluer ring The comfort that this day did bring Let Lute let Shalme with sounde of sweete delight The ioy of Christes birth this day resight Finis F. K. 6. Easter day ALl mortall men this day reioyce In Christ that you redeemed hath By death with death sing we with voyce To him that hath appesed Gods wrath Due vnto man for sinfull path Wherein before he went astray Geue thankes to him with perfect faith That for mankind hath made this glorious day This day he rose from tombe againe Wherin his precious corse was laide Whom cruelly the Iewes had slaine With blooddy woundes full ill araide O Man be nowe no more dismaide If thou hencefoorth from sinne doo stay Of death thou needest not be afraide Christ conquered death for this his glorious day His death preuayled had no whit As Paul the Apostle well doth write Except he had vprysen yet From death to life by Godlike might With most triumphant glittering light This day his glory shined I say And made vs bright as sunne this glorious day O man aryse with Christe therefore Since he from sinne hath made thee free Beware thou fall in sinne no more But ryse as Christe dyd ryse for thee So mayst thou him in glory see When he at day of doome shal say Come thou my childe and dwell with me God Graunt vs all to see that glorious day Finis Iasper Heywood 7. For Whitsunday COme holy ghost eternall God and ease the wofull greefe That thorough the heapes of heauy sinne can no where find releefe Doo thou O God redresse The great distresse Of sinfull heauinesse Come comfort the aflicted thoughtes of my consumed hart O ryd the pearcing pricking paynes of my tormenting smart O holy Ghost graunt me That I by thee From sinne may purged be Thou art my God to thee alone I wyll commend my cause Not glittering golde nor precious stone Shall make me leaue thy lawes O teache me then the way Whereby I may Make thee my onely stay My lippes my tongue my hart and al Shall spreade thy mightie name My voyce shall neuer cease to sound The prayses of the same Yea euery liuing thing Shall sweetely syng To thee O heauenly king Finis M. Kindlemarsh 8. Who mindes to bring his shippe to happy shore Must care to knowe the lawes of wysdomes lore MY freend yf thou wylt credite me in ought To whom the trueth by tryall well appeares Nought woorth is wit till it be dearely bought There is no wysedome but in hoaric heares Yet yf I may of wysedome oft define As well as others haue of happinesse Then to my woordes my freende thy eare encline The thinges that make thee wyse are these I gesse Feare God and knowe thy selfe in eche degree Be freend to all familier but to fewe Too light of credite see thou neuer be For tryall oft in trust dooth treason shewe To others faultes cast not to much thy eye Accuse no man of gilt amend thy owne Of medling much dooth mischiefe oft aryse And oft debate by tickle tongue is sowne What thing thou wylt haue hid to none declare In woorde or deede beware of had I wist So spend thy good that some thou euer spare For freendes like Haukes doo soare from emptie fist Cut out thy coate according to thy cloth Suspected persons see thou alwayes flee Beleeue not him that once hath broke his troth Nor yet of gift without desart be free Time quickly slips beware how thou it spend Of wanton youth repentes a painefull age Beginne nothing without an eye to th end Nor bowe thyne eare from counsell of the sage If thou to farre let out thy fancie slip And witlesse wyll from reasons rule outstart Thy folly shall at length be made thy whippe And sore the stripes of shame shal cause thee smart To doo too much for olde men is but lost Of freendship had to women comes like gaine Bestowe not thou on children to much cost For what thou dooest for these is all in vayne The olde man or he can requite he dyes Vnconstant is the womans waueryng minde Full soone the boy thy freendship wyl despise And him for loue thou shalt vngratefull finde The aged man is like the barren ground The woman like the Reede that wagges with winde There may no trust in tender yeeres be found And of the three the boy is most vnkinde If thou haue found a faithfull freend in deede Beware thou lose not loue of such a one He shall sometime stand thee in better steede Then treasure great of golde or precious stone Finis Iasper Heywood 9. Of the vnconstant stay of fortunes giftes IF Fortune be thy stay thy state is very tickle She beares a double face disguised false and fickle This day she seemes to smile to morrowe wyl she frowne What nowe she sets aloft anone she throweth downe Fly Fortunes sly deseytes let Vertue be thy guide If that you doo intend in happy state to bide Vpon the setled Rocke thy building surest standes Away it quickly weares that resteth on the sandes Dame Vertue is the Rocke that yeeldes assured stay Dame Fortune is the Sand that skowreth soone away Chuse that is certaine let thinges vncertayne passe Preferre the precious golde before the brittle glasse Sly Fortune hath her sleightes she plaies vpon the packe Looke whom she fauours most at length she turnes to wracke But Vertue simply deales she shuns deceitfull trayne Who is by Fortune raysed vp shall neuer fall againe Sticke fast to Vertue then that geues assured trust And fly from Fortunes freekes that euer prooue vniust Finis F. K. 10. Promise is debt IN my accompt the promise that is vowed Among the good is holden such a debt As he is thought no whit to be alowed That setteth light his promise to forget And for my part I wyl not linke in loue With fickle folke whose fancies oft remoue My happy gaine I doo esteeme for such As fewe haue found in these our doutful dayes To finde a freend I thinke it be as much Aste winne a fort
harme And last of all which is not least of all For such offence thy conscience suffer shall As barren groundes bringes foorth but rotten weedes From barren woordes so fruitelesse chaffe proceedes As sauerie flowres doo spring in fertill ground So trusty freendes by tryed freendes are found To shunne therefore the woorst that may ensue Let deèdes alway approue thy sayinges true Finis F. K. 15. Who wyll aspire to dignitie By learnyng must aduaunced be THE poore that liue in needie rate By learning doo great richesse gayne The riche that liue in wealthy state By learnyng doo their wealth mainteyne Thus ritch and poore are furthered still By sacred rules of learned skill All fond conceites of franticke youth The golden gyft of learning stayes Of doubtfull thinges to searche the trueth Learning sets foorth the reddy wayes O happy him doo I repute Whose brest is fraught with learninges fruite There growes no Corne within the feelde That Oxe and Plough did neuer tyll Right so the mind no fruite can yeelde That is not lead by learninges skill Of ignoraunce comes rotten weedees Of learnyng springes right noble deedes Like as the Captayne hath respect To trayne his souldiers in aray So Learning dooth mans mind direct By Vertues staffe his lyfe to stay Though Freendes and Fortune waxeth skant Yet learned men shall neuer want You Impes therefore in youth be sure To fraught your mindes with learned thinges For Learning is the fountayne pure Out from the which all glory springes Who so therefore wyll glory winne With Learning fyrst must needes beginne Finis F. K. 16. Mans flitting life fyndes surest stay Where sacred Vertue beareth sway THE sturdy Rocke for all his strength By raaging Seas is rent in twayne The Marble stone is pearst at length With little droppes of drislyng rayne The Oxe dooth yeelde vnto the yoke The Steele obeyeth the hammer stroke The stately Stagge that seemes so stout By yalpyng Houndes at bay is set The swiftest Bird that flees about Is caught at length in Fowlers net The greatest Fishe in deepest Brooke Is soone deceiued with subtil hooke Ye man him selfe vnto whose wyll All thinges are bounden to obay For all his witte and woorthy skill Dooth fade at length and fall away There is nothing but time dooth wast The Heauens the Earth consume at last But Vertue sittes triumphing still Vpon the Trone of glorious Fame Though spitefull Death mans body kill Yet hurtes he not his vertuous name By Life or death what so be tides The state of Vertue neuer slides Finis M. T. 17. Nothing is comparable vnto a faithfull freend SIth this our time of Freendship is so scant Sith Freendship nowe in euery place dooth want Sith euery man of Freendship is so hollowe As no man rightly knowes which way to followe Sease not my Muse cease not in these our dayes To ryng loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse If men be nowe their owne peculier freendes And to their neighbours Freendship none pretendes If men of Freendship shewe them selues so bare And of their brethren take no freendly care Forbeare not then my Muse nor feare not then To ryng disprayse of these vnfreendly men Did man of Freendship knowe the mightie power Howe great effectes it woorketh euery houre What store of hidden freendship it retaynes How still it powreth foorth aboundaunt gaynes Man would with thee my muse in these our dayes Ryng out loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse Freendship releeueth mans necessitie Freendship comforteth mans aduersitie Freendship augmenteth mans prosperitie Frendship preferres man to felicitie Then ryng my muse ryng out in these our dayes Ring out loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse Of Freendship groweth loue and charitie By Freendship men are linked in amitie From Freendship springeth all commoditie The fruite of Freendship is fidelitie Oh ryng my Muse ryng out in these our dayes Peale vpon peale of sacred Freendships prayse That man with man true Freendship may embrace That man to man may shewe a freendly face That euery man may sowe such freendly seedes As Freendship may be found in freendly deedes And ioyne with me my Muse in these our dayes To ryng loude peales of sacred Freendships prayse Finis F. K. 18. Respise finem TO be as wyse as CATO was Or ritch as CRESVS in his life To haue the strength of Hercules Whiche did subdue by force or strife What helpeth it when Death doth call The happy ende exceedeth all The Ritche may well the Poore releeue The Rulers may redresse eche wrong The Learned may good counsell geue But marke the ende of this my song Who dooth these thinges happy they call Their happy ende exceedeth all The happiest end in these our dayes That all doo seeke both small and great Is eyther for Fame or els for Prayse Or who may sltte in highest seate But of these thinges hap what hap shall The happy ende exceedeth all A good beginning oft we see But seeldome standyng at one stay For fewe doo lyke the meme degree Then prayse at parting some men say The thing whereto eache wight is thrall The happy ende exceedeth all The meane estate that happy life Whiche liueth vnder gouernaunce Who seekes no hate nor breedes no strife But takes in woorth his happy chaunce If contentation him befall His happy end exceedeth all The longer lyfe that we desyre The more offence dooth dayly growe The greater paine it dooth require Except the Iudge some mercie shewe Wherefore I thinke and euer shall The happy ende exceedeth all Finis D. S. 19. He perswadeth his freend from the fond effectes of loue WHY art thou bound and maist goe free Shall reason yeelde to raging wyll Is thraldome like to libertie Wylt thou exchange thy good for ill Then shalt thou learne a childishe play And of eche part to taste and proue The lookers on shall iudge and say Loe this is he that liues by loue Thy wittes with thoughtes shal stand at stay Thy head shall haue but heauie rest Thy eyes shall watche for wanton prayes Thy tongue shall shewe thy hartes request Thy eares shall heare a thousand noyse Thy hand shall put thy pen to paine And in the ende thou shalt dispraise The life so spent for such small gaine If leue and list might neuer cope Nor youth to runne from reasons race Nor yf strong sute might winne sure hope I would lesse blame a louers case For loue is hotte with great desire And sweete delight makes youth so fond That little sparkes wyl prooue great fyre And bring free hartes to endlesse bond Finis 20. Wantyng his desyre be complayneth THe sayling ships with ioy at lenght do touche the long desired port The hewing axe the oke doth waste the battring Canon breakes the fort Hard hagard Haukes stope to the lure wild coâ—s in time the bridle tames There is nothing so out of vre but to his kinde long time it frames Yet this I finde in time no time can winne my sute Though oft the
tree I clime I can not catche the fruite And yet the pleasant branches oft in yeelding wyse to me doo bowe When I would touch they spring aloft sone are they gone I wot not howe Thus I pursue the fleting flood like Tantalus in hel belowe Would god my case she vnderstood which can ful sone releue my woe Which yf to her were knowen the fruite were surely mine She would not let me grone and brouse vpon the rine But if my ship with tackle turne with rented sailes must needes retire And streame wind had plainely sworne by force to hinder my desire Like one that strikes vpon the rocks my weerie wrack I should bewaste And learne to know false fortunes mocks who smiles on me to small auaile Yet sith she only can my rented ship restore To helpe her wracked man but once I seeke no more Finis M. Edwardes 21. Trye before you trust IN freendes are found a heape of doubtes that double dealing vse A swarme of such I could finde out whose craft I can accuse A face for loue a hart for hate these faigned freendes can beare A tongue for troth a head for wyles to hurt eche simple eare In humble port is poyson pact that plainenesse can not spie Which credites all and can not see where stinging serpentes lye Through hastie trust the harmelesse hart is easely hampred in And made beleeue it is good golde when it is lead and tin The first deceit that bleares mine eyes is faigned faith profest The second trappe is grating talke that gripes eche strangers brest The third deceit is greeting woordes with colours painted out Which biddes suspect to feare no smart nor dread no dangerous dout The fourth and last is long repaire which creepes in freendships lap And dayly hauntes that vnder trust deuiseth many a trap Lo how false freendes can frame a fetch to winne the wil with wyles To sauce their sleightes with sugred sops shadowe harme with smiles To serue their lustes are sundry sortes by practise diuers kindes Some carries honnie in their mouthes and venime in their mindes Mee thinkes the stones within the streetes should crie out in this case And euery one that doth them meete should shunne their double face Finis D. S. 22. A Lady forsaken complayneth IF pleasures be in painefulnesse in pleasures dooth my body rest If ioyes accorde with carefulnesse a ioyfull hart is in my brest If prison strong be libertie in libertie long haue I been If ioyes accord with miserie who can compare a lyfe to myne Who can vnbind that is sore bound who can make free that is sore thrall Or how can any meanes be found to comfort such a wretch withall None can but he that hath my hart conuert my paines to comfort then Yet since his seruant I became most like a bondman haue I beene Since first in bondage I became my woord and deede was euer such That neuer once he could me blame except from louing him too much Which I can iudge no iust offence nor cause that I deserud disdayne Except he meane through false pretēce through forged loued to make a traine Nay nay alas my fained thoughts my frēded my fained ruth My pleasures past my present plaints shew wel I meane but to much truth But since I can not him attaine against my wil I let him goe And lest he glorie at my paine I wyl attempt to cloke my woe Youth learne by me but doo not proue for I haue proued to my paine What greeuous greefes do grow by loue what it is to loue in vaine Finis M. D. 23. Finding worldly ioyes but vanities he wysheth death FOrlorne in filthy froward fate wherein a thousand cares I finde By whom I doo lament my state annoide with fond afflicted mind A wretche in woe and dare not crie I liue and yet I wishe to dye The day in dole that seemeth long I pas with sighes heauy cheere And with these eyes I vewe the wrong that I sustaine by louing here Where my mishappes as rife doo dwell As plagues within the pit of hell A wailing wight I walke alone in desart dennes there to complaine Among the sauage sort to mone I flee my frends where they remaine And pleasure take to shun the sight Where erst I felt my cheefe delight A captiue clapt in chaynes of care lapt in the lawes of lethall loue My fleshe bones consumed bare with crauling greefes ful strange to proue Though hap dooth bidde me hope at least Whiles grasse dooth growe yet starues the beast A seeged fort with forraine force for want of ayde must yeelde at last So must my weeried pined corse submit it selfe to bitter tast Of crauling care that carkes my brest Tyll hop or death shall breede my rest Finis F. M. 24. Hauing marryed a woorthy Lady and taken away by death he complayneth his mishap IN youth when I at large did leade my life in lustie libertie When heuy thoughtes no one did spreade to let my pleasant fantesie No fortune seemd so hard could fall This freedome then that might make thrall And twentie yeres I skarse had spent whē to make ful my happy fate Both treasures great were on me cast with landes and titles of estate So as more blest then I stoode than Eke as me thought was neuer man. For of Dame Fortune who is he coulde more desyre by iust request The health with wealth and libertie al which at once I thus possest But maskyng in this ioly ioy A soden syght prooud al a toy For passyng on these merie dayes with new deuice of pleasures great And now then to viewe the rayes of beauties workes with cunnyng fret In heauenly hewes al which as one I oft behelde but bounde to none And one day rowlyng thus my eyes vpon these blessed wyghts at ease Among the rest one dyd I see who strayght my wandryng lookes dyd sease And stayed them firme but suche a syght Of beautie yet sawe neuer wyght What shal I seke to praise it more where tongs can not praise the same But to be short to louers lore I strayght my senses al dyd frame And were it wyt or were it chaunce I woonne the Garlande in this daunce And thus wher I before had thought no hap my fortune might encrese ▪ A double blis this chance forth brought so did my ladies loue me plese Her fayth so firme and constant suche As neue◠hart can prayse too muche But now with torments strange I tast the fickle stay of fortunes whele And where she raysde from height to cast with greater force of greefe to feele For from this hap of soden frowne Of Princes face she threwe me downe And thus exchange now hath it made my libertie a thing most deare In hateful prison for to fade where sundred from my louing feare My wealth and health standes at like stay Obscurely to consume away And last when humaine force was none could part our loue
heart so neare the pith Except suche sâ—lue as when the Scorpion stinges I might receâ—ue to heale my wounde therewith In vaine for ease my tongue alwayes it ringes And I for paines shall pearish through her guilt That can reioyce to see how I am spilt Finis E. S. 35 Though Fortune haue sette thee on hie Remember yet that thou shalt die TO die Dame nature did man frame Death is a thing most perfect sure We ought not natures workes to blame Shee made nothing still to endure That lawe shee made when we were borne That hence we should retourne againe To render right we must not scorne Death is due debt it is no paine The ciuill lawe doth bidde restore That thou hast taken vp of trust Thy life is lent thou must therfore Repâ—y except thou be vniust This life is like a poynted race To the ende wherof when man hath trode He must returne to former place He may not still remaine abrode Death hath in all the earth aright His power is great it stretcheth farre No Lord no Prince can scape his might No creature can his duetie barre The wise the iust the strong the hie The chast the meeke the free of hart The rich the poore who can denie Haue yeelded all vnto his dart Could Hercules that tamde eache wight Or else Vlisses with his witte Or Ianus who had all foresight Or chast Hypolit scape the pitte Could Cresus with his bagges of golde Or Irus with his hungrie paine Or Signus through his hardinesse bolde Driue backe the dayes of Death againe Seeing no man then can Death escape Nor hire him hence for any gaine We ought not feare his carraine shape He onely brings euell men to paine If thou haue ledde thy life aright Death is the ende of miserie If thou in God hast thy delight Thou diest to liue eternallie Eache wight therefore while he liues heere Let him thinke on his dying day In midst of wealth in midst of cheere Let him accompt he must away This thought makes man to God a frend This thought doth banish pride and sinne This thought doth bring a man in th end Where he of Death the field shall win 39 All thinges ar Vaine ALthough the purple morning bragges in brightnes of the sunne As though he had of chased night a glorious conquest wonne The Time by day giues place againe to forse of drowsie night And euery creature is constraind to chaunge his lustie plight Of pleasures all that heere we taste We feele the contrary at laste In spring though pleasant Zephirus hath frutefull earth inspired And nature hath each bushe each branch with blossomes braue attired Yet fruites and flowers as buds and blomes full quickly witherd be When stormie Winter comes to kill the Somers iolitie By Time are gotte by Time are lost All things wherein we pleasure most Although the Seas so calmely glide as daungers none appeare And dout of stormes in skie is none king Phebus shines so cleare Yet when the boistrous windes breake out and raging waues do swel The seely barke now heaues to heauen now sinkes againe to hel Thus chaunge in euery thing we see And nothing constant seemes to bee Who floweth most in worldly wealth of wealth is most vnsure And he that cheefely tastes of ioy doth sometime woe indure Who vaunteth most of numbred frends forgoe them all he must The fairest flesh and liuelest bioud is turnd at length to dust Experience geues a certaine grounde That certen heere is nothing founde Then trust to that which aye remaines the blisse of heauens aboue Which Time nor Fate nor Winde nor Storme is able to remoue Trust to that sure celestiall rocke that restes in glorious throne That hath bene is and must be still our anker holde alone The world is but a vanitie In heauen seeke we our suretie Finis F. K. 37 A vertuous Gentle woman in the praise of his Loue. I Am a Virgine faire and free and freely doe reioyce I sweetely warble sugred notes from siluer voyce For which delightfull ioyes yet thanke I curtesie loue By whose allmightie power such sweete delites I proue I walke the pleasant fieldes adornd with liuely greene And view the fragrant flowres most louely to be seene The purple Columbine the Cousloppe and the Lillie The Violet sweete the Daizie and Daffadillie The Woodbines on the hedge the red Rose and the white And cache fine flowres else that rendreth sweete delite Among the which I choose all those of seemeliest grace In thought resembling them to my deare louers face His louely face I meane whose golden flouring giftes His euer liuing Fame to loftie skie vpliftes Whom louing me I loue onely for vertues sake When vertuously to loue all onely care I take Of all which freshe faire flowers that flowre that doth appeare In my conceit most like to him I holde so deare I gather it I kisse it and eake deuise with it Suche kinde of liuely speeche as is for louers fit And then of all my flowres I make a garland fine With which my golden wyer heares together I doe twine And sette it on my head so taking that delight That I would take had I my louer still in sight For as in goodly flowres myne eyes great pleasure finde So are my louers gyftss most pleasant to my minde Vpon which vertuous gyftes I make more sweete repast Then they that for loue sportes the sweetest ioyes doo tast Finis M. K. 38. Oppressed with sorowe he wysheth death IF Fortune may enforce the carefull hart to cry And griping greefe constrayne the wounded wight lament Who then alas to mourne hath greater cause then I Agaynst whose hard mishâ—p both Heauen and Earth are bent For whom no helpe remaynes for whom no hope is left From whom all happy happes is fled and pleasure quite bereft Whose lyfe nought can prolong whose health nought can assure Whose death oh pleasant port of peace no creature can procure Whose passed proofe of pleasant ioy Mischaunce hath chaunged to greefes anoy And loe whose hope of better day Is ouerwhelmd with long delay Oh hard mishap Eache thing I plainely see whose vertues may auayle To ease the pinching payne which gripes the groning wyght By Phisickes sacred skill whose rule dooth seldome fayle Through labours long inspect is playnely brought to lyght I knowe there is no fruite no leafe no roote no rynde No hearbe no plant no iuyce no gumme no mettal deepely mind No Pearle no Precious stone ne Ieme of rare effect Whose vertues learned Gallens bookes at lardge doo not detect Yet all theyr force can not appease The furious fyttes of my disease Nor any drugge of Phisickes art Can ease the greefe that gripes my hart Oh straunge disease I heare the wyse affyrme that Nature hath in store A thousand secrete salues which Wysdome hath outfound To coole the scorching heate of euery smarting sore And healeth deepest scarre though greeuous be the wound The auncient prouerbe sayes
that none so festred greefe Dooth grow for which the gods them selues haue not ordeynd releefe But I by proofe doo knowe such prouerbes to be vayne And thinke that Nature neuer knewe the plague which I sustayne And so not knowyng my distresse Hath leaft my greefe remedilesse For why the heauens for me prepare To liue in thought and dye in care Oh lastyng payne By chaunge of ayre I see by haute of healthfull soyle By dyet duely kept grose humours are expeld I know that greefes of minde and inward heartes turmoile By faithfull frendes aduise in time may be repeld Yet all this nought auailes to kill that me anoyes I meane to stoppe these floudes of care that ouerflow my ioyes No none exchaunge of place can chaunge my lucklesse lot Like one I liue and so must die whome Fortune hath forgoe No counsell can preuaile with mee Nor sage aduise with greefe agree For he that feeles the paines of hell Can neuer hope in heauen to dwell Oh deepe despaire What liues on earth but I whose trauaile reapes no gaine The wearyed Horse and Oxe in stall and stable rest The Ante with sommers toyle beares out the winters paine The Fowle that flies all day at night retournes to rest The Ploughmans weary worke amid the winters mire Rewarded is with somers gaine which yeeldes him double hire The sillye laboring soule which drudges from day to day At night his wages truely paide contented goth his way And comming home his drowsie hed He cowcheth close in homely bed Wherein no sooner downe he lies But sleepe hath straight possest his eyes Oh happie man. The Souldier biding long the brunt of mortall warres Where life is neuer free from dint of deadly foyle At last comes ioyfull home though mangled all with scarres Where frankly voyde of feare he spendes the gotten spoyle The Pirate lying long amidde the fooming floodes With euery flawe in hazard is to loose both life and goodes At length findes view of land where wished Porte he spies Which once obtained among his mates he partes the gotten prise Thus euery man for trauaile past Doth reape a iust reward at last But I alone whose troubled minde In seeking rest vnrest doth finde Oh lucklesse lotte Oh curssed caitife wretche whose heauie harde mishappe Doth wish tenne thousande times that thou hadst not bene borne Since fate hathe thee condemned to liue in sorrowes lappe Where waylinges waste thy life of all redresse forlorne What shall thy griefe appease who shall thy torment stay Wilt thou thy selfe with murthering handes enforce thy owne decay No farre be thou from me my selfe to stoppe my breath The gods forbid whom I beseeche to worke my ioyes by death For lingering length of lothed life Doth stirre in mee such mortall strife That whiles for life and death I crie In Death I liue and liuing die Oh froward fate Loe heere my hard mishappe loe heere my straunge disease Loe heere my deepe despaire loe heere my lasting paine Loe heere my froward fate which nothing can appease Loe heere how others toyle rewarded is with gaine While luckelesse loe I liue in losse of laboures due Compeld by proofe of torment strong my endlesse greefe to rue In which since needes I must consume both youth and age If olde I liue and that my care no comfort can asswage Henceforth I banishe from my brest All frustrate hope of future rest And truthlesse trust to times reward With all respectes of ioyes regard Here I forsweare 39 Where reason makes request there wisedome ought supplie With friendly answere prest to graunt or else denie I Sigh why so for sorrowe of her smart I morne wherfore for greefe that shee complaines I pitie what her ouerpressed hart I dread what harme the daunger shee sustaines I greeue where at at her oppressing paines I feele what forse the fittes of her disease Whose harme doth me and her alike displease I hope what happe her happy healthes retyre I wishe what wealth no wealth nor worldly store But craue what craft by cunnyng to aspyre Some skyll whereto to salue her sickly sore What then why then would I her health restore Whose harme me hurtes howe so so woorkes my wyll To wyshe my selfe and her lyke good and yll What moues the mind whereto to such desyre Ne force ne fauour what then free fancies choyse Art thou to choose my charter to require Eache Ladyes loue is fred by customes voyce Yet are there grauntes the euidence of theyr choyse What then our freedome is at lardge in choosyng As womens willes are froward in refusing Wotes she thy wyll she knowes what I protest Daynde she thy sute she daungerd not my talke Gaue she consent she graunted my request What dydst thou craue the roote the fruite or stalke I asked them all what gaue she Cheese or chalke That taste must try what taste I meane the proofe Of freendes whose wyls withhold her bowe aloofe Meanst thou good fayth what els hopest thou to speede Why not O foole vntaught in carpet trade Knowest not what proofes from such delayes proceede Wylt thou like headles Cocke be caught in glade Art thou like Asse too apt for burden made Fy fy wyl thou for saint adore the shrine And woo her freend eare she be wholy thine Who drawes this drift moued she or thou this match T was I oh foole vnware of womens wyles Long mayst thou wayte like hungry houndes at hatche She crafty Foxe the seely Goose beguiles Thy sute is shaped so fyt for long delay That shee at wyll may chek from yea to nay But in good soothe tell me her frendes intent Best learne it first their purpose I not knowe Why then thy will to woorse and worse is bent Dost thou delight the vnkindled cole to blowe Or childelike louest in anckred bote to rowe What meane these termes who sith thy sute is such Know of or on or thou afect to much No haste but good why no the meane is best Admit shee loue mislike in lingring growes Suppose shee is caught then Woodcocke on thy crest Till end approues what skornefull sedes shee sowes In loytring loue such dangers ebbes and flowes What helpe herein why wake in dangerous watch That too nor fro may make thee marre the match Is that the way to ende my wery woorke By quicke dispatch to lesson long turmoyle Well well though losse in lingering wontes to lurke And I a foole most fitte to take the foyle Yet proofe from promise neuer shall recoyle My woordes with deedes and deedes with woordes shal wend Tyll shee or hers gayuesay that I entend Art thou so fond not fond but firmely fast Why foole her freendes wote how thy wyl is bent Yet thou lyke doult whose witte and sense is past Sest not what frumpes doo folowe thy entent Ne knowe how loue in lewe of skorne is lent Adewe for sightes such folly should preuent Well well their skoffes with scornes might be repaid If my requestes were fully yead or
braine Could kepe thee from their trecherie Suche Sirens haue we now adaies That tempt vs by a thousande waies Thei syng thei daunce thei sport thei plaie Thei humbly fall vpon their knees Thei sigh thei sobb thei prate thei praie With suche dissemblyng shifts as these Thei calculate thei chaunt thei charme To conquere vs that meane no harme Good ladies all letts ioyne in one And banishe cleane this Siren kinde What nede we yelde to heare their mone Since their deceipt we daiely finde Let not your harts to them apply Defie them all for so will I. And if where Circes now doeth dwell You wisht you witt aduise to learne Loe I am she that best can tell Their Sirens songes and them discerne For why experience yeldeth skill To me that scapt that Sirens ill Finis M. Bew. 55. Findyng no ioye he desireth death THe Cony in his caue the Feret doeth anoye And fleyng thence his life to saue him self he doeth destroye His Berrie rounde about besett with hunters snares So that when he to scape starts out is caught therein vnwares Like choise poore man haue I to bide and rest in loue Or els from thence to start and still as bad a death to proue I see in loue to rest vnkindnesse doeth pursue To rent the harte out of his breast whiche is a louer true And if from loue I starte as one that loue forsaks Then pensiue thoughts my harte doeth perse so my life it taks Thus then to fly or bide harde is the choise to chuse Since death hath caÌ„pde treaÌ„hed eche side saith life now refuse Content I am therefore my life therein to spende And death I take a salue for sore my wearie daies to ende And thus I you request that faithfull loue professe When carcas cased is in chest and bodie laied on hears Your brinishe teares to saue suche as my corse shall moue And therewith write vpon my graue behold the force of loue W. H. Hope well and haue well IN hope the Shipman hoiseth saile in hope of passage good In hope of health the sickly man doeth suffer losse of bloud In hope the prisoner linckt in chaines hopes libertie to finde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mynd In hope desire getts victorie in hope greate comfort spryngs In hope the louer liues in ioyes he feares no dreadfull flyngs In hope we â—iue and maie abide suche stormes as are assignde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mind In hope we easely suffer harme in hope of future tyme In hope of fruite the pain semes swete that to the tree doeth clime In hope of loue suche glory growes as now by profe I finde That hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled minde W. H. He repenteth his folly WHeÌ„ first mine eyes did vew marke thy beautie faire for to behold And wheÌ„ myne eares gan first to harke the pleasant words that thou me told I would as theÌ„ I had been free froÌ„ eares to heare eyes to se And when my hands did handle oft that might thee kepe in memorie And when my feete had gone so softe to finde and haue thy companie I would eche hande a foote had been and eke eche foote a hand so seen And when in minde I did consent to followe thus my fansies will And when my harte did first relent to tast suche baite my self to spill I would my harte had been as thine or els thy harte as soft as myne TheÌ„ should not I suche cause haue fouÌ„d to wish this moÌ„strus sight to se Ne thou alas that madest the wounde should not deny me remedy Then should one will in bothe remain to grauÌ„t one hart whiche now is twaine W. H. He requesteth some frendly comfort affirmyng his constancie THe mountaines hie whose loftie topps doeth mete the hautie sky The craggie rocke that to the sea free passage doeth deny The aged Oke that doeth resist the force of blustryng blast The pleasaunt herbe that euery where a fragrant smell doeth cast The Lyons forse whose courage stout declares a princlike might The Eagle that for worthinesse is borne of kyngs in fight The Serpent eke whose poisoned waies doeth belche out venim vile The lothsome Tode that shunneth light and liueth in exile These these I saie and thousands more by trackt of tyme decaie And like to tyme doe quite consume and vade from forme to claie But my true harte and seruice vowed shall last tyme out of minde And still remaine as thine by dome as Cupid hath assignde My faithe loe here I vowe to thee my trothe thou knowest right well My goods my frends my life is thine what nede I more to tell I am not myne but thine I vowe thy hests I will obeye And serue thee as a seruaunt ought in pleasyng if I maie And sith I haue no fliyng wings to see thee as I wishe Ne finnes to cut the siluer streames as doeth the glidyng fishe Wherefore leaue now forgetfulnesse and sende againe to me And straine thy azured vaines to write that I maie greetyng see And thus farewell more deare to me then chiefest frende I haue Whose loue in harte I minde to shrine till death his fee doe craue M. Edwards He complaineth his mishapp SHall rigor raigne where youth hath ron shall fansie now forsake Shall fortune lose that fauour wonne shall not your anger flake Shall hatefull harte be had in you that frendly did pretende Shall slipper thoughts and faithe vntrue that harte of yours defende Shall nature shewe your beautie faire that gentle semes to be Shall frowardnesse your fancies ayer be of more force then she Shall now disdaine the dragg of death direct and leade the waie Shall all the imps vpon the yearth reioyce at my decaie Shall this the seruice of my youth haue suche reward at last Shall I receiue rigor for ruth and be from fauour cast Shall I therefore berent my harte with wights that wishe to dye Or shall I bathe my self with teares to feede your fickle eye No no I shall in paine lye still with Turtle doue moste true And vowe my self to witt and will their counsels to ensue Good Ladies all that louers be your helpe hereto purtende Giue place to witt let reason seme your enemie to defende Lest that you thinke as I haue thought your self to striue in vaine And so to be in thraldome brought with me to suffer paine Finis M.H. No foe to a flatterer I Would it were not as I thinke I would it were not so I am not blinde although I winke I feele what winds doe blowe I knowe where craft with smilyng cheare creps into bloudy brest I heare how fained speache speaks faire where hatred is possest I se the Serpent lye and Iurck vnder the grene alowe I see hym watche a tyme to worke his poyson to bestowe In frendly looks suche fraude is founde as faithe for feare is fleade
will I loue though she be coye H. A foole hym self will still anoye M. Who will not die for suche a one H. Be wise at length let her alone M. I can not doe so H. then be thy owne foe M. Alas I die H. what remedie Finis E. S. ¶ A louers ioye I Haue no ioye but dreame of ioye and ioye to thinke on ioye A ioye I withstoode for to enioye to finishe myne anoye I hate not without cause alas yet loue I knowe not why I thought to hate I can not hate although that I should die A foe moste swete a frende moste sower I ioye for to embrace I hate the wrong and not the wight that workt my wofull case What thyng it is I knowe not I but yet a thyng there is That in my fancie still perswads there is no other blisse The ioyes of life the pangs of death it make me feele eche daie But life nor death this humour can deuise to weare awaie Faine would I dye but yet in death no hope I see remaines And shall I liue since life I see a sourse of sorie paines What is it then that I doe seke what ioye would I aspire A thyng that is deuine belike to high for mans desire Finis FK ¶ The iudgement of desire THe liuely Larke did stretche her wyng The messenger of mornyng bright And with her cherefull voyce did syng The daies approche dischargyng night When that Aurora blushyng redd Discride the gilt of Thetis bedd Laradon tan tan Tedriton teight I went abroad to take the aire And in the meadds I mett a knight Clad in carnation colour faire I did salute the youthfull wight Of hym I did his name enquire He sight and saied I am desire Laradon tan tan Tedriton teight Desire I did desire to staie A while with hym I craued talke The courteous wight saied me no naie But hande in hande with me did walke Then in desire I askte againe What thing did please and what did pain Laradon tan tan He smild and thus he answered me Desire can haue no greater paine Then for to see an other man The thyng desired to obtaine No ioye no greater to then this Then to inioye what others misse Laridon tan tan Finis E. O. ¶ The complaint of a louer wearyng Blacke and Tawnie. A Croune of Bayes shall that man weare That triumphs ouer me For blacke and Tawnie will I weare Whiche mournyng colours be The more I folowed on the more she fled awaie As Daphne did full long agone Apollos wishfull praie The more my plaints resounde the lesse she pities me The more I saught the lesse I founde that myne she ment to be Melpomeney alas with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng bis wo worthe on me â–ª forsaken man Then Daphnes baies shal that man weare that triumphs ouer me For Blacke Taunie will I weare which monrnyng colours be Droune me you tricklyng teares you wailefull wights of woe Come help these haÌ„ds to reÌ„t my heares my rufull happs to showe On whom the scorchyng flames of loue doeth feede you se Ah a lalalantida my deare dame hath thus tormented me Wherefore you Muses nine with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng Bis wo worthe on me forsaken man Then Daphnes Baies shall that man weare that triumps euer me For Blacke Taunie will I weare which mourning colours be An Ancres life to leade with nailes to scratche my graue Where earthly Wormes on me shall fede is all the ioyes I craue And hid my self from shame sith that myne eyes doe see Ah a alantida my deare dame hath thus tormented me And all that present be with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng Bis woe worthe on me forsaken man. Finis E.O. ¶ He complaineth thus LO heare the man that must of loue complaine Lo heare that seas that feeles no kinde of blisse Lo here I seke for ioye and finde but paine Lo what despite can greater be then this To freze to death and stande yet by the fire And she that shonneth me moste I doe desire L. But shall I speake alas or shall I die A. By death no helpe in speache some helpe doeth lie L. Then from that breast remoue a Marble minde A. As I see cause so are ye like to finde L. I yelde my self what would you more of me A. You yelde but for to winne and conquer me L. Saâ—e and kill not madame A. Forsake your sute for shame No no no no not so O happie man now vaunt thy self That hath this conquest gainde And now doeth liue in greate delight That was so lately painde Triumph triumph triumph wholouers be Thrise happie is that woyng That is not long a doyng Triumph triumph triumph that hath like victorie Finis ¶ Findyng no relief he complaineth thus IN quest of my relief I finde distresse In recompence of loue moste depe disdaine My langour is suche words maie not expresse A shower of teares my watrishe eye doeth raine I dreame of this and doe deuine of wo I wander in the thoughts of my swete fo I would no peace the cause of warre I flie I hope I feare I burne I chill in froste I lye alowe yet mounts my minde on hie Thus doubtfull stormes my troubled thoughts haue toste And for my paine this pleasure doe I proue I hate my self and pine in others loue The worlde I graspe yet holde I nought at all At libertie I seme in prison pent I taste the sweete more lower then bitter gall My shipp semes sounde and yet her ribbs be rent And out alas on Fortune false I crie Looke what I craue that still she doeth denie Bothe life and death be equall vnto me I doe desire to die yet craue I life My witts with sondrie thoughts doe disagre My self am with my self at mortall strife As warmth of sonne doeth melte the siluer Snowe The heate of loue beholde consumes me so Finis R.H. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth VVHat dome is this I faine would knowe That demeth all by contraries What God or whether height or lowe Now would I learne some warrantise Some saie the blinded God aboue Is he that woorketh all by loue But he that stirreth strife the truthe to tell I alwaies feele but knowe not well Some saie Alecto with her mates Are thei whiche breedeth all anoye Who sitts like Haggs in hellishe gates And seeks still whom thei maie destroye Some saie againe t is destinie But how it comes or what it is I let it passe before I misse Despite doeth alwaies worke my wo And happ as yet holds hardly still For feare I set my frendshipp so And thinke againe to reape good will. I doe but striue against the winde For more I seeke the lesse I finde And where I seeke moste for to please There finde I alwaies my desease And thus I loue and doe reape still Nothyng but hate for my good will. Finis L. V. A louer disdained complaineth IF euer man had loue to
dearly bought Lo I am he that plaies within her maze And finds no waie to get the same I sought But as the Dere are driuen vnto the gaze And to augment the grief of my desire My self to burne I blowe the fire But shall I come ny you Of forse I must flie you What death alas maie be compared to this I plaie within the maze of my swete foe And when I would of her but craue a kis Disdaine enforceth her awaie to goe My self I check yet doe I twiste the twine The pleasure hers the paine is myne But shall I come ny you Of forse I must flie you You courtly wights that wants your pleasant choise Lende me a floud of teares to waile my chaunce Happie are thei in loue that can reioyse To their greate paines where fortune doeth aduaunce But sith my sute alas can not preuaile Full fraight with care in grief still will I waile Sith you will needs flie me I maie not come ny you Finis L.V. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth IF care or skill could conquere vaine desire Or reasons raines my strong affection staie Then should my sights to quiet breast retire And shunne suche signes as secret thoughts bewraie Vncomely loue whiche now lurks in my breast Should cease my grief through wisdoÌ„s power opprest But who can leaue to looke on Venus face Or yeldeth not to Iunos high estate What witt so wise as giues not Pallas place These vertues rare eche Godds did yelde amate Saue her alone who yet on yearth doeth reigne Whose beauties stryng no Gods can well destraine What worldly wight can hope for heauenly hire When onely sights must make his secret mone A silent sute doeth seâ—de to Grace aspire My haples happe doeth role to restles stone Yet Phebe faire disdainde the heauens aboue To ioye on yearth her poore Endimions loue Rare is reward where none can iustly craue For chaunce is choise where reason maks no claime Yet lucke sometymes dispairyng souls doeth saue A happie starre made Giges ioye attaine A slauishe Smith of rude and rascall race Founde means in tyme to gaine a Goddes grace Then loftie Loue thy sacred sailes aduaunce My sithyng seas shall flowe with streames of teares Amidds disdaine driue forthe my dolefull chaunce A valiaunt minde no deadly daunger feares Who loues alofte and setts his harte on hie Deserues no paine though he doe pine and die Finis M.B. ¶ A louer reiected complaineth THe tricklyng teares that fales along my cheeks The secret sighs that showes my inward grief The present paines perforce that loue aye seeks Bidds me renew my cares without relief In wofull song in dole displaie My pensiue harte for to bewraie Bewraie thy grief thou wofull harte with speede Resigne thy voyce to her that causde thy woe With irksome cries bewaile thy late doen deede For she thou louest is sure thy mortall foe And helpe for thee there is none sure But still in paine thou must endure The striken Deare hath helpe to heale his wounde The haggerd hauke with toile is made full tame The strongest tower the Canon laies on grounde The wisest witt that euer had the fame Was thrall to Loue by Cupids sleights Then waie my case with equall waights She is my ioye she is my care and wo She is my paine she is my ease therefore She is my death she is my life also She is my salue she is my wounded sore In fine she hath the hande and knife That maie bothe saue and ende my life And shal I liue on yearth to be her thral And shall I sue and serue her all in vaine And kisse the stepps that she let ts fall And shall I praie the gods to kepe the pain From her that is so cruell still No no on her woorke all your will. And let her feele the power of all your might And let her haue her moste desire with speede And let her pine awaie bothe daie and night And let her moue and none lament her neede And let all those that shall her se Dispise her state and pitie me Finis E. O. ¶ Not attainyng to his desire he complaineth I Am not as seme to bee Nor when I smile I am not glad A thrall although you count me free I moste in mirthe moste pensiue sadd I smile to shade my bitter spight As Haniball that sawe in sight His countrey soile with Carthage toune By Romaine force defaced doune And Caesar that presented was With noble Pompeyes princely hedd As t were some iudge to rule the case A floud of teares he semde to shedd Although in deede it sprong of ioye Yet others thought it was annoye Thus contraries be vsed I finde Of wise to cloke the couert minde I Haniball that smiles for grief And let you Caesars teares suffice The one that laughs at his mischief The other all for ioye that cries I smile to see me scorned so You wepe for ioye to see me wo And I a harte by loue slaine dead Presents in place of Pompeyes head O cruell happ and harde estate That forceth me to loue my foe Accursed be so foule afate My choise for to profixe it so So long to fight with secret sore And finde no secret salue therefore Some purge their paine by plaint I finde But I in vaine doe breathe my winde Finis E. O. ¶ His mynde not quietly setled he writeth this EVen as the waxe doeth melt or dewe consume awaie Before the Sonne so I behold through careful thoughts decaie For my best lucke leads me to suche sinister state That I doe wast with others loue that hath my self in hate And he that beats the bushe the wished birde not getts But suche I see as sitteth still and holds the foulyng netts The Drone more honie sucks that laboureth not at all Then doeth the Bee to whose most pain least pleasure doth befall The Gardner sowes the seeds whereof the flowers doe growe And others yet doe gather them that tooke lesse paine I knowe So I the pleasaunt grape haue pulled from the Vine And yet I languish in greate thirst while others drinke the wine Thus like a wofull wight I woue my webb of woe The more I would wede out my cares the more thei seme to grow The whiche betokeneth hope forsaken is of me That with the carefull culuer climes the worne withered tree To entertaine my thoughts and there my happe to mone That neuer am lesse idle lee then when I am alone Finis E. O. ¶ Of the mightie power of Loue. MY meanyng is to worke what wondes loue hath wrought Wherwith I muse why meÌ„ of wit haue loue so derely bought For loue is worse then hate and eke more harme hath doen Record I take of those that rede of Paris Priams sonne It semed the God of slepe had mazed so muche his witts When he refused witt for loue whiche cometh but by fitts But why accuse I hym whom yearth hath couered long There be of his
posteritie aliue I doe hym wrong Whom I might well condempne to be a cruell iudge Vnto my self who hath the crime in others that I grudge Finis E. O. ¶ Beyng disdained he complaineth IF frendlesse faithe if giltlesse thought maie shield If simple truthe that neuer ment to swerue If dere desire accepted frute doe yield If greedie lust in loyall life doe serue Then maie my plaint bewaile my heauie harme That sekyng calme haue stombled on the storme My wonted cheare ecclipsed by the cloude Of deepe disdaine through errour of reporte If wearie woe enwrapped in thy shroude Lies slaine by tonge of the vnfrendly sorte Yet heauen and yearth and all that nature wrought I call to vowe of my vnspotted thought No shade I seke in parte to shilde my taint But simple truthe I hunt no other sute On that I gape the issue of my plaint If that I quaile let iustice me confute If that my place emongs the giltles sort Repaie by dome my name and good report Goe heauie verse persue desired grace Where pittie shrinde in cell of secret brest Awaits my hast the rightfull lott to place And lothes to see the giltles man opprest Whose vertues great haue crouned her more with fame Then kyngly state though largely shine the same Finis L. Vaux ¶ Of the meane estate THe higher that the Ceder tree vnder the heauens doe growe The more in danger is the top when sturdie winds gan blowe Who iudges then in princely throne to be deuoide of hate Doeth not yet knowe what heapes of ill lies hid in suche estate Suche dangers greate suche gripes of minde suche toile doe thei sustaine That oftentimes of God thei wishe to be vnkyngde againe For as the huge mightie rocks withstande the ragyng seas So kyngdoms in subiection be whereas dame Fortune please Of brittle ioye of smilyng cheare of honie mixt with gall Allotted is to euery Prince in fredome to be thrall What watches longe what stepps vnsure what grefes and cares of minde What bitter broiles what endles toiles to kyngdoms be assingde The subiect then maie well compare with prince for plesant daies Whose silent might bryngs quiet rest whose might no storme bewraies How muche be we then bounde to God who suche prouision maks To laye our cares vpon the Prince thus doeth he for our saks To hym therefore let vs lift vp our harts and praie a maine That euery Prince that he hath plast maie long in quiet raigne Finis L. V. ¶ Of a contented mynde VVHen all is doen and saied in the ende thus shall you finde The moste of all doeth bathe in blisse that hath a quiet minde And clere from worldly cares to deame can be content The swetest tyme in all his life in thinkyng to be spent The bodie subiect is to fickle Fortunes power And to a million of mishapps is casuall euery hower And death in tyme doeth chaunge it to a clodde of claye When as the mynde whiche is deuine runnes neuer to decaie Companion none is like vnto the mynde alone For many haue been harmde by speache through thinking fewe or none Fewe oftentymes restraineth words but maks not thoughts to cease And he speaks best that hath the skill when for to holde his peace Our wealth leaues vs at death our kinsmen at the graue But vertues of the mynde vnto the heauens with vs we haue Wherefore for vertues sake I can be well content The swetest tyme of all my life to deme in thinkyng spent Finis L. Vaux ¶ Trie before you trust TO counsell my estate abandonde to the spoile Of forged frendes whose grosest fraude it set with finest foile To verifie true dealyng wights whose trust no treason dreads And all to deare thacquaintance be of suche moste harmfull heads I am aduised thus who so doeth frende frende so As though to morrowe next he feared for to become a fo To haue a fained frende no perill like I finde Oft fleryng face maie mantell best a mischief in the mynde A paire of angels eares oft tymes doeth hide a serpents harte Vnder whose gripes who so doeth come to late cōplaines the smart Wherefore I doe aduise who so doeth frende frende soe As though to morrowe next he should become a mortall foe Refuse respectyng frends that courtly knowe to faine For gold that winnes for gold shall lose the self same frend againe The Quaile needs neuer feare in foulers netts to fall If he would neuer bende his eare to listen to his call Therefore trust not to sone but when you frende frende soe As though to morrowe next ye feard for to become a foe Finis L. Vaux ¶ He renounceth all the affectes of loue LIke as the Harte that lifteth vp his eares To heare the hounds that hath hym in the chafe Doeth cast the winde in daungers and in feares With fliyng foote to passe awaie apace So must I fly of loue the vaine pursute Whereof the gaine is lesser then the friute And I also must lothe those learyng looks Where loue doeth lurke still with a subtill slaight With painted mocks and inward hidden hooks To trapp by trust that lieth not in waite The ende whereof assaie it who so shall Is sugred smart and inward bitter gall And I also must flie suche Sirian songs Wherewith that Circes Vlisses did enchaunt These wilie Watts I meane with filed tongs That harts of steele haue power to daunt Who so as hauke that stoppeth to their call For moste desart receiueth least of all But woe to me that first behelde those eyes The trapp wherein I saie that I was tane An outward salue whiche inward me destroies Whereto I runne as Ratt vnto her bane As to the fishe sometyme it doeth befall That with the baite doeth swallowe hooke and all Within my breast wherewith I daiely fedd The vaine repast of amorous hot desire With loytryng lust so long that hath me fedd Till he hath brought me to the flamyng fire In tyme at Phenix ends her care and carks I make the fire and burne my self with sparks Finis L. Vaux ¶ Beyng in sorrowe he complaineth MIstrust misdemes amisse whereby displeasure growes And time delaied finds frēds afraied their faith for to disclose Suspect that breede the thought and thought to sighes conuarte And sighs haue sought a floud of teares wher sobbs do seke the hart Thus harte that meanes no harme must feede on sorrowes all Vntill suche tyme as pleaseth the iudge the truth in question call Though cause of greate mistrust before that iudge appeare My truthe and mercie of my iudge I trust shall set me cleare Report these rimes at large my truthe for to detecte Yet truthe in tyme shall trie it self and driue awaie suspecte Beleue not euery speache nor speake not all you heare For truthe and mercie of the iudge I trust shall set me cleare Finis L. V. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth ENforst by loue and feare to please and not offende Within the
words you would me write a message must I sende A wofull errande sure a wretched man must write A wretched tale a wofull head besemeth to endite For what can he but waile that hath but all he would And yet that all is nought at all but lacke of all he should But lacke of all his minde what can be greater greif That haue lacke that likes him best must neds be most mischief Now foole what maks thee waile yet some might saie full well That hast no harme but of thy self as thou thy self canst tell To whom I aunswere thus since all my harmes doe growe Vpon my self so of my self some happ maie come I trowe And since I see bothe happ and harme betids to me For present woe my after blisse will make me not forget thee Who hath a field of golde and maie not come therein Must liue in hope till he haue forse his treasure well to winne Whose ioyes by hope of dreade to conquere or to lose So greate a wealth doeth rise and for example doeth disclose To winne the golden flese stoode Iason not in drede Till that Medeas hope of helpe did giue hym hope to spede Yet sure his minde was muche and yet his feare the more That hath no happ but by your helpe maie happ for to restore The ragyng Bulls he dread yet by his Ladies charme He knewe it might be brought to passe thei could doe little harme Vnto whose grace yelde he as I doe offer me Into your hands to haue his happ not like hym for to be But as kyng Priamus did binde hym to the will. Of Cressed false whiche hym forsooke with Diomede to spill So I to you commende my faithe and eke my ioye I hope you will not be so false as Cressed was to Troye For if I be vntrue her Lazares death I wishe And eke to thee if I be false her clapper and her dishe Finis R. L. ¶ Beyng in trouble he writeth thus IN terrours trapp with thraldome thrust Their thornie thoughts to tast and trie In conscience cleare from case vniust With carpyng cares did call and crie And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Thus tremblyng there with teares I trodd To totter tide in truthes defence With sighes and sobbs I saied O God Let right not haue this recompence Lest that my foes might laugh to see That thou wouldest not deliuer me Bis. My soule then to repentaunce ranne My ragged clothes berent and torne And did bewaile the losse it wanne With lothsome life so long forlorne And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Then comfort came with clothes of ioye Whose semes were faithfull stedfastnesse And did bedecke that naked boye Whiche erst was full of wretchednesse And saied be glad for God is he That shortly will deliuer thee Bis. Finis T. M. ¶ Beyng troubled in mynde he writeth as followeth THe bitter sweate that straines my yelded harte The carelesse count that doeth the same embrace The doubtfull hope to reape my due desarte The pensiue path that guids my restlesse race Are at suche warre within my wounded brest As doeth bereue my ioye and eke my rest My greedie will that seks the golden gaine My luckles lot doeth alwaie take in worthe My mated mynde that dredes my sutes in vaine My piteous plaint doeth helpe for to set forthe So that betwene twoo waues of ragyng seas I driue my daies in troubles and desease My wofull eyes doe take their chief delight To feede their fill vpon the pleasaunt maze My hidden harmes that growe in me by sight With pinyng paines doe driue me from the gaze And to my hope I reape no other hire But burne my self and I to blowe the fire Finis I.H. ¶ Looke or you leape IF thou in suertie safe wilt sitt If thou delight at rest to dwell Spende no more words then shall seme fitt Let tonge in silence talke expell In all thyngs that thou seest men bent Se all saie nought holde thee content In worldly works degrees are three Makers doers and lookers on The lookers on haue libertie Bothe the others to iudge vpon Wherefore in all as men are bent Se all saie nought holde thee content The makers oft are in fault founde The doers doubt of praise or shame The lookers on finde surest grounde Thei haue the fruite yet free from blame This doeth persuade in all here ment Se all saie nought holde thee content The prouerbe is not South and West Whiche hath be saied long tyme agoe Of little medlyng cometh rest The busie man neuer wanteth woe The best waie is in all world 's sent Se all saie nought holde thee content Finis Iasper Haywood ¶ He bewaileth his mishappe IN wretched state alas I rewe my life Whose sorrowes rage torments with deadly paine In drowned eyes beholde my teares be rife In doubtfull state a wretche I must remaine You wofull wights enured to like distresse Bewaile with me my wofull heauinesse What stonie harte suche hardnes can retaine That sharpe remorse no rest can finde therein What ruthlesse eyes so carelesse can remaine That daiely teares maie pitie winne For right I seeke and yet renewe my sore Vouchsalfe at length my saftie to restore My loue is lost woe worthe in woe I dye Disdainfull harte doeth worke suche hatefull spite In losse of loue a wretche must ioye to dye For life is death now hope is banisht quite O death approche bereue my life from me Why should I liue opprest with woe to be Finis R. H. ¶ The complaint of a Synner O Heauenly God O Father dere cast doune thy tender eye Vpon a wretche that prostrate here before thy trone doeth lye O powre thy precious oyle of grace into my wounded harte O let the dropps of mercie swage the rigour of my smarte My fainting soule suppressed sore with carefull clogge of sinne In humble sort submitts it self thy mercie for to winne Graunt mercie then O sauiour swete to me moste wofull thrall Whose mornfull crie to thee O Lorde doeth still for mercie call Thy blessed will I haue despised vpon a stubborne minde And to the swaie of worldly thyngs my self I haue enclinde Forgettyng heauen heaueÌ„ly powers where God and saincts do dwel My life had likt to tread the path the leads the waie to hell But now my lorde my lode starre bright I will no more doe so To thinke vpon my former life my harte doeth melt for woe Alas I sigh alas I sobbe alas I doe repent That euer my licencious will so wickedly was bent Sith thus therefore with yernfull plain I doe thy mercie craue O Lorde for thy greate mercies sake let me thy mercie haue Restore to life the wretched soule that els is like to dye So shall my voyce vnto thy name syng praise eternally Now blessed be the Father first and blessed be the Sonne And blessed be the holie Ghoste by whom all thyngs are doen Blesse me O blessed Trinitie with thy eternall grace That after death my soule maie haue in heauen a dwellyng place Finis F.K. ¶ The fruite that sprynges from wilfull wites is ruthe and ruins rage And sure what heedelesse youth committes repentaunce rues in age I Rage in restlesse ruthe and ruins rule my daies I rue to late my rechlesse youthe by rules of reasons waies I ran so long a race in searche of surest waie That leasure learnde me tread the trace that led to leud decaie I gaue so large a raine to vnrestrained bitt That now with proofe of after paine I waile my want of witt I trifeled forthe the tyme with trust to self conceiptes Whilst pleÌ„ties vse prickt forth my prime to search for sugred baites Wherein once learnde to finde I founde so sweete a taste That dewe foresight of after speede self will estemed waste Whiche will through wilfulnesse hath wrought my witlesse fall And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse hath lapt my life in thrall Whereby by proofe I knowe that pleasure breedeth paine And he that euill seede doeth sowe euill frute must reape againe Let suche therefore whose youth and pursses are in Prime Foresee shun the helplesse ruthe whiche fews misspence of time For want is nexte to waste and shame doeth synne ensue Euil speding proofe hath hedeles hast my self hath proued it true When neighbours next house burnes t is tyme thereof take hede For fortunes whele hath choise of turnes which change of chaÌ„ses breds My saile hath been aloft though now I beare but lowe Who clims to high selde falleth soft dedst ebbe hath highest flowe Finis ê™ Yloop. ¶ Imprinted at London by Henry Disle dwellyng at the Southwest doore of S. Paules Churche 1576.