Selected quad for the lemma: end_n
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A18734
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The firste parte of Churchyardes chippes contayning twelue seuerall labours. Deuised and published, only by Thomas Churchyard Gentilman.
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Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.
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1575
(1575)
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STC 5232; ESTC S104983
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109,539
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236
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foe And sew to such as set our liues to sale We were shut vp they had the bounsing gale That blew their barke beyonde our compasse cleane With sailes aflaunte and had no mery meane They clapt on all and wente throw streme and flud When trew mens fete stode faste in mier and mud I was the man that moste of mischief had I was accusde and cald to counte in haste I founde moste cause to sighe and sit full sad I was laide vp and thereby clene disgraste Myn enmies said I did the treasure waste And held in hand the Souldiours money to I was so nipt I knew not what to do My frindes wext fainte or ferd the like mischaunce But I was he must leade the dolefull daunce A mitred head a Bishop bolde and braue Said I conueide away Saint Thomas shryne And that I mente the king of Beame should haue The same from me by priuy practise fyne To hoiste me vp he laid boeth hooke and syne And so by frindes he framd so flat a feate That I was cald to strait accounte in heate For this and more a libell long and large Of forgid faultes that he laide to my charge No clarke might come to make my reckning right No tale could serue to show my matter throw No depe discource could bring the trothe to light No man of law could canues cases now Strong hande did all I must both bende and bow The king knewe not of halfe the wrongs I felte Nor none could finde how finely cardes were delte A pack was made and one had got the ace And trimly robd the trumps before my face No boote to bid the players deale agayne The game was won and I had lost the stake These foisters fyen could nick both by and maine And kog out right when they the dice did shake And of swete spoyle a bitter banquet make They cald me in and I the only geste Was bidden then vnto this bluddy feeste I was compeld to taest what dishe they wolde And in great heete to drinke vp poison colde I meane my fate and fortune was so harde I could not scape their handes that sought my life Who wreackt their wrath on me without regarde Yet long in sheath they kept the murthering knife For on my hap at first rose all this strife And on the frinds that I by hap had wonne This end I had and mischief was begonne For taking parte with such as likt me well To ground full flat from top of tree I fell When in the tower my foes had clapt me faste Few frendes I founde the world began to winke And so at length in rerage was I caste And poste alone was lefte to swym or sinke And iudgement was as I was forste to thinke That I should paie twoo hundrith thousand frankes For all my toile lo here is all my thankes I did posses my chargis and my losse And paines abrode came home by weping crosse And wanting wealth to paie this heauy summe With billes and glaiues from prison was I led And so vnto the Towre hill did I cumme To suffer death where sone I loste my hed The king knew naught of this til I was ded Loo people here how thinges about were brought And what disdaine and mightie mallice wrought Lo here his ende and sodaine sliding downe That was both true to God and to the crowne As littill twigges oer toppes of houses grow Whose braunches big spredes out a mightie tree Or as smale brokes with seas do swell and flowe Yet hath no powre to passe their boundes you see Or as faire flowers that in gay gardins bee Sprouts out a while and when they are at height They fade and fall and then declineth streight So man doth mounte a whyle on stages hie And at the beste shottes downe like starre from skie When thinges are growen as farre as course is set And haue attaind â–ª the fulnes of their state They backewarde come and can no further get For cleane expierd ye see is then their date The life we beare of force must yeld to fate The slâ—ppes we crede weares out by track of tyme When ladder brekes we can no higher clyme Where Fortune sittes so faste doth grynde the mill The whele turns rounde and neuer standeth still Long is the toile or man to triumphe cummes Large is the plot where we our pagantes play Swete is the sap and sower are all the plummes That paine pluckes of the pleasane planted spray Shorte is the tyme of all our glorie gaye Uaine is the hope of hazardes here in earth Great are the greues of life from day of bearth No suerty growes of all is here posseste All comes to naught when people feareth leste Loo what it is to stande on tickell stayes Where hatred heaues the housholde out of square And when it faules the ioyntes fle seuerall wayes And ioyfull weights are cled with wo and care The seruauntes howle the wyfe and childe is bare The frends wring hands the foes do laugh and flyer Suche chaunges chaunce to those that do aspyre The grounde but gaps who first shall faule therein And who sekes moste at length the leste may wyn Loo Churchyarde now my mirthles tale is tould A mourning verse prepare thou straight for me And in thy ryme some stately order hould For that I sprong not out of base degree Let euery lyne a liuely sentence bee To wake the wittes of such as world would knoe And liste to marke how worldly matters goe And when thou comste to touch the gauled back Leape oer the horse or vse a ryders knack Bear euen hande and holde the bridell right Yet whiske the wande sometimes for pleasures sake Yea spice thy speache and tearmes with trifels light That lokers on may not thy mynde mistake When store is gone yet do thy budget shake Among the best and feede their fansies still No matter though a mouse crepe out of hill Smale toyes may brede great sporte in great estates And in great groundes men walke throw littill gates Do wisely warne and warely vse thy pen Speake Englishe plaine and roue about the but And shote at will and slante by wicked men Shale out the shell and bid them crack the nut Showe some delight and so the sentence shut And bid the world behold me in a glas That did to rewen from pompe and pleasure passe Now I am gone I wyshe the rest behinde As they desier may better fortune finde A TRAGICALL DIScourse of the vnhappy mans life COm courtiars all â–ª draw neer my morning hers Com heer my knell ear cors to church shall go Or at the least come read this wofull vers And last farewell the haples penneth so And such as doth his lief and manners kno Come shed some teares and se him painted out That restles heer did wander world about O pilgrims poer preace neer my pagent nowe And note full well the part that I haue playd And wyesly waye my