than that Man account Whose well directed Lyfe Can fly those yls which fancy stirs And lyue from Bondage free A Phoenix ryght on yearth no doubte A Byrde full rare to see ¶ To M. Henrye Cobham of the most blessed state of Lyfe THe happyest lyfe that here we haue My Cobham yf I shall desyne The goodlyest state twyxte byrth and graue Most gracious dayes and swetest tyme. The fayrest face of fadynge Lyfe Race ryghtlyest ronne in ruthfull wayes The safest meanes to shun all stryfe The surest Staffe in fyekle Dayes I take not I as some do take To gape and gawne for Honoures hye But Court and 〈◊〉 to forsake And lyue at home full quyetlye I well do mynde what he once sayde Who had Courte not in any case For Vertue is in Courtes decayed And Vyce with States hath chyefest place Not Courte but Countreye I do iudge Is it wheare lyes the happyest lyfe In Countreye growes no gratynge grudge In Countreye standes not sturdye stryfe In Countreye Bacchus hath no place In Countreye Venus hath defecte In Countreye Thraâ—â— hath no grace In Countreye fewe of Gâ—atoes Secte But these same foure and many moe In Courte thou shalt be sure to fynde For they haue vowed not thence to goe Bycause in Courte dwels ydle mynde In Countreye mayste thou safelye rest And flye all these yf that thou lyste The Countrey â—herfore iudge I bâ—st Where godly lyfe doth vyce resyste Where vertuous exercyse with ioye Doth spende the yeares that are to run Where Vyces fewe maye the annoye This lyfe is best whan all is done ¶ To Alexander Neuell of the blessed Sate of him that feeles not the force of Cupids flames AS ofte as I remembre with my self The Fancies fonde that flame by foolysh Loue And marke the Furyes fell the blynded elfe And Venus she that raynes so sore aboue As ofte as I do se the wofull state Of Louers all and eake their myserye The ones desyryng mynde the others hate Trothe with the one with the other Trecherye So ofte saye I that blessed is the wyght Yea Neuell blest and double blest agayne That can by reason rule his mynde a ryght And take suche foolysh fadynge toyes for vayne ¶ Alexander Neuells Awnswere to the same THe pluÌ„ged mind in fluds of griefs The Sences drowned quyght The Hart opprest The flesh consumed The chauÌ„ged state outright The Body dryed by broylyng blase Of preuy schorchyng Flame The doulfull Face The couÌ„tnauÌ„ce sad The drowping Courage tame The Scaldyng syghes The greuous groones The burning rage of fyre The ernest sute The fruitles Toyle The deepe and hot Desyre The Braynes quight brusd crusht w t Cares The euer duryng soore The very paynes of Hell it self with thousande mischyefes moore Which wounded Harts enflamd with Loue with Gryefe do ouerflow And works theyr endles plage spight Tyll Death from thence do growe All these conclude him blest my Googe and trible blest agayne That taught bi tract of Time can take Such fadyng Toyes for vayne ¶ To Maystresse A. SYnce I so long haue lyved in pain and burnt for loue of the O cruel hart doste thou no more esteame the Loue of me Regardst thou not the health of hym that the aboue the rest Of Creatures all and next to God hath dearest in his brest Is pytie placed from the so farre is gentlenes exylde Hast thou ben fostred in the Caues of Wolues or Lyons wylde Hast thou ben so why then no force the lesse I meruayle I Suche as the DaÌ„me suche is the yong experyence trewe doth trye Syth thou art of so fyerce a mynde why dyd not God then place In the with suche a Tygers Harte a fowle yll fauerde face Sure for no other ende but that he lykes no Louers trade And the therfore a ragynge Fende an Angels face hathe made Suche one as thou was Goâ—gon ones as auncient Poets tell Who with her Beautie mazâ—d men and nowe doth raygne in Hâ—ll But mercye yet of the I craue yf ought in the remayne And let me not so long the force of flamyng fyre sustayne Let pytie ioynde with beautie be so shall I not dysdayne My blud my hart my lyfe to spende with toyle with stryfe and payne To do the good my breath to loose yf nede shall so requyre But for my seruyce and my paynes thou gyuest me hate for hyre Well now take this for ende of all I loue and thou doste hate Thou lyuest in pleasures happely and I in wretched staie Paynes can not last for euermore but tyme and ende wyll trye And tyme shall tell me in my age How youth led me awrye Thy face that me tormented so in tyme shall sure decaye And all that I do lyke or loue shall vanysh quyte awaye Thy face in tyme shall wrynckled be at whiche I shall be glad To see thy forme transformed thus that made me once so sad Than shall I blame my foly moch and thanke the mightyest kyng That hath me saued tyll such a daye to se so fonde a thyng And tyll that tyme I wyll keepe close my flames and let them blase All secretly within my brest no man on me shall gase I wyll not trespasse synfully for God shall geue me grace To se the tyme wherin I shall neglecte thy folysh face And tyll that tyme adieu to thee God keepe thee far from me And sende thee in that place to dwell that I shall neuer see ¶ To George Holmeden of a ronnynge Heade THe greatest vyce that happens vnto men And yet a vyce that many comon haue As aunciâ—nt Wryters waye with sobre Pen Who gaue theyr doome by force of wysdom graue The sorest mayme the greatest euyll sure The vylest plague that Students can sustayne And that whiche moste doth ygnoraunce procure My Holmeden is to haue a ronnyng Brayne For who is he that leades more restles lyfe Or who can euer lyue more yll bestead ¶ The Harte absent SWete muse tell me wher is my hart becom For well I feele it is from hence a way My Sences all doth sorrow so benumme That absent thus I can not lyue a Day I know for troth there is a specyall Place Wher as it most desyreth for to bee For Oft it leaues me thus in Dolfull case And hether coÌ„mes at length a gayne to me Woldest thou so fayne be tolde where is thy Hartâ— Sir Foole in place wher as it shuld not be Tyed vp so fast that it can neuer starte Tyll Wysdom get agayne thy Lybertye In place wher thou as safe maist dwel swet daw As may the harte ly by the Lyons paw And wher for thee as much be sure they passe As dyd the master ons for Esops Asse ¶ To Alexander Neuell IF thou canst banish Idlenes Cupidoes Bowe is broke And well thou mayst dyspyse hys bronds clean void of flame smoke What moued the kynge Agistus ons to Loue with vyle excesse The cause at haÌ„d doth streight apeare he lyued in Idlenes
Finis ¶ The Aunswere of A. Neuell to the same THe lack of labour mayms y t mind And wyt Reason quyght exiles And Reason fled Flames Fancy blind And Fancy she forthwith beguyles The Sensles wight that swiftly sails Through deepest fluds of vyle exces Thus vice aboūds Thus vertu quails By meanes of drowsy Idlenes ¶ To Maystresse D. NOt from the hye Cytherion Hyll nor from that Ladies throne Frō whēs flies forth y e winged boy y t makes some sore to grone But nearer hence this token coms from out the Dongeon deepe Where neuer Plutto yet dyd raygne nor Proserpyne dyd sleepe Wheras thy faithful Seruaunt liues whom duetie moues aryght To wayle that he so long doth lacke his owne deare Maystres syght ¶ Out of an olde Poet. FYe Fye I lothe to speake wylt thou my lust Compell me nowe to doo so foule an acte Nay rather God with Flame consume to dust My carry on vyle then I perfourme this facte Let rather thoughtes that long haue weryed me Or sycknes suche as Fancy fonde hath brought O gapyng Hell dryne me now downe to the Let boylyng syghes consume me all to nought ON s musynge as I sat and Candle burnynge bye When all were husht I myght discern a symple selye Flye ¶ That flewe before myne eyes with free reioysynge Hart And here there with wings did play as voyde of payne and smart ¶ Somtyme by me she sat when she had playde her fyll And euer when she rested had aboute she flyttered styll ¶ When I perceyud her well reioysyng in her place O happy Flye quoth I and eake O worme in happy case ¶ Whiche two of vs is best I that haue reason no But thou that reason art without and therwith voyde of woe ¶ I lyue and so doste thou but I lyue all in payne And Subiect am to her alas that makes my Gryefe her gayne WHen I do heare thy name alas my hart doth ryse And seekes fourthwith to se the salue that most contētes myne eys But when I se thy Face that hath procured my payne Then boyles my blud in euery part and beates in euery vayne Thy voice when I do heare then collour comes and goes Some tyme as pale as Earth I looke some tyme as red as Rose If thy sweete Face do smyle then who so well as I If thou but cast a scornefull looke then out alas I dye But styll I lyue in payne my fortune wylleth so That I shuld burne thou yet know no whytt of all my wo. VNhappye tonge why dydste thou not cōsent When fyrst myne eyes dyd vewe that Princely face To show good wyll that hart opprest than ment And whylst tyme was to sewe for present grace O fayntyng Hart why dydst thou then conceale Thyne inwarde Fyers that flamde in euery vayne Whan pytie and gentlenes were bent to heale Why dydst thou not declare thy ragyng payne When well thou mightst haue moued her gentle mynde Why dydste thou than kepe backe thy wofull playn Thou knewste full well redres is hard to fynde Whan in thy owne affayres thy corage faynts But synce she is gon bewaile thy grief no moore Synce thou thy selfe wart Causer of the Soore ¶ Oculi augent dolorem Out of syght out of mynd THe oftener sene the more I lust The more I lust the more I smart The more I smart the more I trust The more I trust the heauyer hart The heuy hart breedes myne vnrest Thy absence therfore lyke I best The rarer sene the lesse in mynde The lesse in mynde the lesser payne The lesser payne lesse gryefe I fynd The lesser gryefe tthe greater gayne The greater gayne the meryer I Therfore I wysh thy syght to flye The further of the more I ioye The more I ioye the happyer lyfe The happyer lyfe lesse hurts annoye The lesser hurts pleasure most ryfe Suche pleasures ryfe shall I obtayne Whē Distaūce doth depart vs twaine ¶ Finis ACcuse not God yf fancie fond do moue thy foolysh brayne To wayle for loue for thou thy selfe art cause of all thy payne ¶ Finis TWo Lynes shall tell the Gryefs that I by Loue sustayne I burne I flame I faynt I fryse of Hell I feele the payne ¶ Of the vnfortunate choyse of his Valentyne THe Paynes that all the Furyes fell can cast frō Lymbo lake Eche Torment of those Hellish brains wher crawleth mani a snake Eche mischiefe that therrin doth lye eche smart that may be founde Flye frō those feendish clawe◠a whyle with flames breake vp the grounde Lyght here vpon this cursed hand make here your dwellyng place And plague the part y e durst presume his Mayster to disgrace Whiche thrust amongst a nombre of so many princely names And wher thy Maistres had her place amongst the chiefest Dames Durste thus presume to leue her there and drawe a straunger wyght And by thyne owne vnhappy draught torment my pauled Spryght ¶ The vncertayntie of Lyfe NO vayner thing ther can be foūd amyd this vale of stryfe As Auncient men reporte haue made then truste vncertayne lyfe This trwe we dayly fynde by proofes of many yeares As answered well vnto thy vertuous fame The gentlenes that at thy handes I founde In staungers house all vnaquaynted I Good S. hath my Hart to the so bounde That from the can it not be forced to flye In pledge wherof my seruyce here I gyue Yf thou so wylte to serue the whylst I lyue ¶ Of Money GYue Money me take Frendshyp who so lyst For Frends are gon come once Aduersytie When Money yet remayneth safe in Chest That quickely can the bryng from myserye Fayre face showe frendes when ryches do habounde Come tyme of proofe farewell they must awaye Beleue me well they are not to be founde If God but sende the once a lowrynge daye Golde neuer starts asyde but in dystres Fyndes wayes enoughe to ease thyne heuynes ¶ Goyng towardes Spayne FArewell thou fertyll soyle that Brutus fyrst out founde Whē he pooresoule was driuen clean frō out his Coūtrey groūd That Northward layst thy lusty sides amyd the ragyng Seas Whose welthy Land doth foster vpp thy people all in ease While others scrape carke abroad theyr symple foode to gett And selye Soules take all for good that cōmeth to the Net Which they with painfull paynes dopych in barrain burning Realmes While we haue all with out restreint among thy welthy streames O blest of God thou Pleasaunt I le where welth her self doth dwell Wherin my tender yeares I past I byd thee now farewell For Fancy dryues me forth abrode and byds me take delyght In leuyng thee and raungyng far to se some straunger syght And sayth I was not framed heare to lyue at home with eas But passynge foorth for knowledge sake to cut the fomyng seas ¶ At Bonyuall in Fraunce O Fond affectyon wounder of my Hart When wylt thou Cease to breed my restles payne When comes the end of this my Cruell smart
cause to spring eche herbe and floure in fyelde Aâ—d forceth ground y â— spoyld of grene Old lye newe grene to yelde Let shepherds vs yelde also tales as best becoÌ„mes the tyme Suche tales as Winter stormes haue stayde in countrey Phets Ryme Begyn to synge Amintas thou for why thy wyt is best And many a laged sawe lies hyd within thine aged brest Ofte haue I heard of Shephards old thy fame reported true No Herdman liues but knowes the praise to olde Amintas due Bâ—gyn therfore and I gyue care for talke doth me delyght Go Boye go dryue the Beasts to fede whyle he his mynde resyght Thy prayses Daâ—â—nes are to great and more for me than meete Nor euer I suche saged sawes coulde synge in Verses sweete And now to talke of spring time tales my heares to hoare do growe Suche tales as these I tolde in tyme when youthfull yeares dyd flowe But synce I can not the denye thy Fathers loue doth bynde In symple Songe I wyll adresse my selfe to showe my mynde Longe hast thou Daphnes me requyred the state of Loue to tell For in my youth I knewe the force and passions all full well Nowe Loue therfore I wyll defyne and what it is declare which way poore souls it doth entrap and howe it them doth snare My Boie remoue my beasts froÌ„ hens and dryue them farther downe Vpon the Hylles let them go feade that ioyne to yender towne O Cupyde kynge of fyerye Loue ayde thou my syngynge Verse And teache me heare the cause case Of Louers to reherse Direct my tong in trothe to treade with Furye fyll my brayne That I may able be to tell the cause of Louers payne Opinions diuers coulde I showe but chiefest of them all I wyll declare and for the rest with silence leaue I shall A seruent Humour some do iudge within the Head doth lye Whiche yssuyng forth with poysoned beames doth rou froÌ„ eye to eye And taking place abrode in heads a whyle doth fyrmely rest Till Phrensie framde in Fancie fond â–ª discends from hed to brest And poison strong froÌ„ eies outdrawn doâ—h perce the wretched harte And all infectes the bloud aboute and boyles in euery parte Thus wheÌ„ the beames infected hath the wofull Louers blud Then Sences al do strayght decaye opprest with Furyes flud Then Lybertie withdrawes her self and Bondage beares the swaye Affection blynd then leades the hart and Wyt is wownde awaye O Daphnâ—s then the paines appeare and tormentes all of hell Then sekes the selye wounded soule the flames for to expell But all to late alas he stryues for Fancie beares the stroke And he must toyle no helpe there is in slauysshe seruyle yoke His blud corrupted all within doth boyle in euery vayne Than sekes he howe to sewe for salue that maye redresse his payne And when the face he doth beholde by whiche he shulde haue ayde And sees no helpe theÌ„ lookes he long aâ—d trembleth all afrayde And museth at the framed shape that hath his lyfe in handes Nowe fast he flies aboute the flames nowe styll amased standes Yet Hope relieues his hurtful Heate and Wyll doth Payne make lyght And al the griefes that then he feeles doth Presence styll requyght But when the Lyght absented is and Beames in hart remayne Then flames the Fyre fresh agayne and newe begyns his Payne Then longe he lookes his losse to se then sobbes and syghes abounde Then mourneth he to mys the marke that erst to soone he founde Then shadefull places oute he lookes and all alone he lyues Erylynge Ioye and myrth from him hymselfe to waylynge gyues And styll his minde theron doth muse and styll therof he prates O Daphnes here I swere to the no griefe to Louers state Yf he but ones beholde the place where he was wont to mete The pleasaunt forme y t hym enflamd and ioyfull Countnaunce swete The place a wonderous thing I tell his gryefe augmenteth newe Yet styll he sekes the place to se that moste he shulde escâ—ewe Yf but the name rehearsed be a thynge more straunge to heare Then Colour coÌ„mes and goes in hast then quaketh he for feare The verye name hath suche a force that it can dase the mynde And make the man amasde to stande what force hath Loue to bynde Affection none to this is lyke it doth surmownt them all Of greiâ—fes the greatest greif no doubt is to be Venus thrall And therfore Daphnes nowe beware for thou art yonge and fre Take heade of vewynge faces longe for losse of Lybertye I shall not nede I thynke to byd the to detest the Cryme Of wycked loue that Ioue did vse In Ganimedes tyme For rather wolde I thoo it be muche that thou shuldest seake the fyre Of lawfull Loue that I haue tolde than burne wyth suche desyre And thus an end I weryed am my wynde is olde and faynt Suche matters I do leaue to suche as finer farre can paint Fetche in the Gote that goes astraye and dryue hym to the folde My yeares be great I wyl be gone for spryngtyme nyghts be colde Great thankes to the for this thy tale Amintas here I gyue But neuer can I make amendes to the whilste I do lyue Yet for thy paynes no recompencâ— a small rewarde haue here A whistle framed longe ago wherwith my father deare His ioyfull beasts was wont to kepe No Pype for tune so swete Might shepharde euer yet poâ—ses a thynge for the full mete Finis Eglogae primoe Egloga secunda Dametas MY beasts go fede vpon y e plaine and let your herdman lye Thou seest her mind fearst y u nowe Dametas for to dye Why stayest y u thus why doste y u stayâ— thy lyfe to longe doth laste Accounte this flud thy fatall graue syth time of hope is paste What meanst thou thus to linger on thy life wolde fayne departe Alas the wounde doth fester styll of cursed Cupids darte No salue but this can helpe thy sore no thynge can moue her minde She hath decreed that thou shalt dye no helpe there is to finde Nowe syth there is no other helpe nor ought but this to tryâ— Thou seest her mind why fearste thou than Dametas for to dye Long hast thou serued serued true but all alas in vayne For she thy seruyce nought estemes but deales the griefe for gayne For thy good wyll a gay rewarde Disdayne for Loue she gyues Thou louest her while thy life doth last she hates the wile she liues Thou flamste when as y u seest her face with Heate of hye desyre She flames agayne but how alas with depe disdaynfull Ite The greatest pleasure is to the to se her voyde of Payne The greatest gryefe to her agayne to se thy Health remayne Thou couetste euer her to fynde she sekes from the to flye Thou seest her mynd why fearst thou than Dametas for to dye Doste thou accounte it best to kepe thy lyfe in sorowes styll Or thynkste thou
perceyue his Mayster to be gone He weepes wailes in piteous plight and forth he ronnes anone No Man knowes where he is becom some saye the wooddes he tooke Intendynge there to ende his lyfe on no Man more to looke The Courte lamentes the Princesse eke her selfe doth weepe for woe Loe Faustus fled and Claudia deade Valerius vanysshed soe ¶ Finis Egloge quinte Egloga sexta Felix Faustus O Faustus whom aboue the rest of Shephardes here that kepe Vpon these holts y e noÌ„bre great of waightye fleesed shepe I euer haue estemde and couÌ„ted eke the chiefest Frende of all What great mishap what scourge of minde or griefe hath the befall That hath the brought iÌ„ such a plight farre from thy wonted guyse What meanes this couÌ„tenauÌ„ce all bespreÌ„t w t teres these wretched eies This mournynge looke this Vesture sad this wrethe of Wyllow tree Vnhappy man why doste thou wepe what chaunce hath altered the Tell tell me soone I am thy frende Disclose to me thy gryefe Be not afrayde for frendes do serue to gyue theyr Frendes relyefe The wofull cause of all my hurte good Felix longe agoe Thou knewst full well I nede not now by wordes to double woe Synce that alas all hope is past synce gryefe and I am one And synce the Ladye of my lyfe my faute I haue forgone What woldst y u haue me do oh frend to Ioye in suche dystres Naye pleasures quyte I banish here and yelde to Heuynes Let gryefes torment me euermore let neuer Cares awaye Let neuer Fortune turne her wheale to gyue me blysfull daye Loue hath me scourged I am content lament not thou my state Let spyght on me take vengeaunce nowe let me be torne with hate Let her enioye her happye lyfe a Flowre of golden hewe That closeth when the Son doth set and spreads with Phebus newe Syth froÌ„ my Garlande now is falne this famouse Flowre swete Let Wyllows wynde aboute my hed a Wrethe for Wretches mete Fye Faustus let not Fancie fonde in the beare suche a swaye Expell Affections from thy mynde and dryue them quyght awaye Embrace thine Auncient Lybertie let Bondage vyle be fled Let Reason rule thy crased Brayne place Wyt in Folies steade Synce she is gone what remedye why shuldest thou so lament Wilt thou destroy thy self with tears and she to pleasures bent Gyue eare to me and I wyll showe the remedies for Loue That I haue learned longe agoe and in my youth dyd proue Such remedies as soone shall quenche the flames of Cupids Fyre Suche remedies as shall delaye the Rage of fonde Desyre For Faustus yf thou folow styll the blynded God to please And wylt not seke by Reasons Rule to purchase thyne owne ease Long canst thou not thy frends enioy but byd them all farewell And leaue thy lyfe and giue thy soule to depest fluds of Hell Leaue of therfore betymes and let Affection beare no swaye And now at fyrst the Fyre quench before it further straye Eche thyng is easely made to obaye whyle it is yong and grene The tender twyg that now doth bend at length refuseth cleane The feruent Fyre that flamyng fyrst may lytell water drenche When as it hath obtayned tyme whole Ryuers can not quenche Forsake the Town my Faustus deare and dwell vpon this playne And tyme shall heale thy festryng wouÌ„d Absence banysh Payne Aboue all thynges fly Idlenes For this doth dowble strength To Louers flams makes theÌ„ rage tyl all be lost at length Here in thes felds are pleasauÌ„t things to occupye thy brayn Be hold how spryng reuyues agayn that winter late had slayne Behold the plesaunt Hylles adournd with dyuers colours fayre Geue eare to Scillas lusty songes reioysynge in the ayr What pleasure caÌ„st thou more desyre then here is for to se Thy lusty yewes with many a lam Lo whear they wayt on the Thynke not vpon that cursed face that makes the thus her slaue But well regard the pleasaunt lyfe that here thou seest me haue Whan I long tyme a go did feale the flames of Cupids fyre These meanes Lo than I practised to cure my fond desyre I fyrst wayed with my selfe How fond a thyng it seamd To let my heart lye there in chaynes where I was nought esteamd And how with flames I burnt for her that passed nought for me And how these eyes encreast my harmes that fyrst her face did se With pensyfe heart full fraight with thoughts I fled froÌ„ thence away And though that Loue bad tourne my steppes yet wold I neuer stay But from that foule infectyue ayer wher first I tooke my sore I hyed in hast and shund the place to se for euer more Eache letter that I had receyued from her I cast away And tokens all I threw them down to my no small dysmay Then busyed I my selfe in thyngs that myght me moste delyght And sought the chiefst means I could to helpe my weryed spryght Somtyme I wold behold the fyelds and Hylles that thou doste se Somtime I wold betraye the Byrds that lyght on lymed tree Especially in Shepstare tyme when thicke in flocks they flye One wold I take and to her Leg a lymed Lyne wold tye And where y e slock flew thickest there I wold her cast awaye She strayght vnto the rest wold hye amongst her Mates to playe And preasyng in the mydste of them with Lyne and Lyme and all With cleuyng wyngs entangled fast they downe togyther fall Somtyme I wold the lytel Fysh with bayted Hooke beguyle Somtyme the craftye Fore I wold deceyue for all his wyle Somtyme the Wolfe I wold pursue somtyme the fomyng Boore And whan with labour all the daye my weryed Lyms were soore ThaÌ„ rest slepe I straightway sought no Dreames dyd me afraye Tormented nought with care I past the lyngryng nyght awaye And thus I cleane forgot in tyme the dotyng Dayes I sawe And freed my self to my great Ioye from Yoke of Louers Lawe More of this same I wyll the tell the next tyme here we mete And stroÌ„ger Medycines wyll I gyue to purge that Venym swete Beholde the Daye is slypt awaye and Starres do fast appeare Loe where Calicto Virgin ones doth shyne in Skies so cleare Loe where olde Cephâ—us walks about with twynyng Serpent bye We wyll no lenger heare abyde But hence wyll homwarde hye Finis Eglogae sextoe Egloga septima Siluanus Sirenus Seluagla SIrenus Shephard good and thou that hast yll lucke in loue The cause of al my hurt by whom my sutes could neuer proue God neuer let that I shuld seeke to be reuenged of the For whan I might haue ben with case yet wold not suffer me The Loue that I Duerda bare on the to showe my Spyte On the in whom my Ladye fayre had once her whole delyght If thy myshaps do not me greue my mischiefes neuer ende Thynke not sirenus that bycause Diana was thy frend I beare the worser wyl assure thy self
When shall my force beate backe thy force agayne When shall I saye this restles rage of myne By Reason ruld is banysht quyte a way And I escaped these cruell bondes of thyne O flamynge seend that seakest my decaye Safe thynkyng I â—haribdis Rage to flye On Scyll a Rocke in Bonyuall I dye ¶ Commynge home warde out of Spayne O Ragyng Seas and myghty Neptunes raynâ— â–ª In monstrous Hylles that throwest thy selfe so hye That wyth thy sludes doest beate the shores of Spayne And breake the Clyues that dare thy force enuie Cease now thy rage and laye thyne Ire a syde And thou that hast the gouernaunce of all O myghty God graunt Wether Wynd and Tyde Tyll in my Countreye Coast our Anker fall ¶ To L. Blundeston of Ingratitude THe lytell Byrde the tender Marlyon That vseth ofte vpon the Larke to praye With great reproche doth stayne the mynde of man If all be true that Wryters of her saye For she a Creature maymde of Reasons parte And framde to lyue accordynge to her kynde Doth seme to foster Reason in her Hart And to aspyre vnto Deuyner mynde When Hungers rage she hath exyled quyte And supped well as falleth for her state The selye Larke doth take by force of flyght And hyes to tree where as she lodged late And on the tremblyng Byrde all nyght she stondes To keepe her feete from force of nyppynge colde The amazed Wretche within her eÌ„nemyes handes And closed fast within the claspyng holde Awayteth Death with drowsye drowpyng Hart And all the nyght with feare drawes on her lyfe The gentle Byrde whan darkenes doth departe Doth not depryue the selye soule of lyfe Nor fylles with her her hungred egre brest But wayeng well the seruyce she hath done To spyll the Blud her Nature doth detest And from so great a Cryme her selfe doth shun She lets her go and more with stedfast eyes Beholds whiche way she takes with mazed flyght And in those partes that Daye she neuer flyes Leaste on that Byrde agayne she chaunce to lyght Loe Blundston heare how kyndenes doth habounde In selye Soules where Reason is exylde This Byrde alone suffyseth to confounde The Brutysh myndes of men that are defyled With that great Vice that vyle and haynous Cryme Ingratitude whiche some vnkyndenes call That Poyson strong that spryngeth styll with tyme Tyll at the length it hath infected all ¶ The Aunswere of L. Blundeston to the same THis Mirrour left of this thy Byrde I fynde Hath not suche force to enter in the Hert To roote away Vnthankefulnes of minde As others haue the Vertues to peruert so prone we are to Vice The Tenche by kynd hath Salue for euery Soore And heales the maymed Pike in his dystresse The Churlysh Pike fo Gentlenes therfore In his rewarde doth Crueltie expresse His murdring mynde his fylthy spotted fayth When hungre prickes to fyll his gredye Iawes He grypes his poore Chyrurgion vnto death Who late to hym of lyfe was onely cause Thy Merlians haue fewe Ayryes in our ground But Pikes haue Spawnes good stoore in euery Pound ¶ To the Tune of Appelles THe rushyng Ryuers that do run The valeys sweet adourned new That leans their sides against y e Sun w t Flours fresh of suÌ„dry hew Both Ashe and Elme and Oke so hye Do all lament my wofull crye while winter blak w t hydious stormes Doth spoil y e grouÌ„d of SoÌ„mers grene while springtime sweet y e leaf returns That late on tree could not be sene while soÌ„mer burns while haruest raiÌ„s Stil styl do rage my restles paynes No ende I find in all my smart But endles torment I sustayne Synce fyrst alas my wofull Hart By sight of the was forst to playne Synce that I lost my Lybertie Synce that thou madste a Slaue of me My Hart that once abroade was free Thy Beautie hath in durance brought On s reason rulde and guyded me And now is wyt coÌ„sumde w t thought On s I reioysed aboue the Skye And now for the I alas I dye On s I reioysed in Companye And now my chief and whole delyght Is from my frendes awaye to flye And keepe alone my weryed spryght Thy face deuyne and my desyre FroÌ„ flesh hath me transformed to fyre O Nature thou that fyrst dyd frame My Ladyes heare of purest Golde Her face of Crystall to the same Her lippes of precious Rubyes molde Her necke of Alablaster whyte Surmountyng far eche other Wight Why dydst thou not that tyme deuise Why dydst thou not forese before The mischyefe that therof doth ryse And grief on grief doth heap with stor To make her Hart of War alone And not of Flynt and Marble Stone O Lady showe thy fauour yet Let not thy Seruaunt dye for the Where Rygour rulde let Mercye syt Let Pytie Conquere Crueltie Let not Disdain a Feend of Hell Posses the place wher Grace shuld dwell ¶ Cupido Conquered THe sweetest time of al the yeare it was when as the Sonne Had newly entred Gemini and warmynge heate begun Whan euery tre was clothed greene and flowers fayre dyd show And when the whyt and blowmynge May on Hawthorns thicke did grow Whan sore I longd to seeke a broade to se some Pleasaunt syght A mid my woes and heauye happes that myght my Mynde delyght Care wold not let me byde within but forst me foorth to go And bad me seeke sume present helpe for to relyue my wo. Than forward went I foorth in haste to vew the garnysht trees What tyme the Son was mouÌ„ted vp twirt nyne and ten degrees From Flowers flew sweete ayers abroad delighting much my brayn With syght smels gaâ—â—orow fade and Ioy returne agayne So that in mynde I much reioyce to feele my self so lyght For gorgyous syghtes odours sweet had new reuyued my spryght Besyde the pleasaunt Harmonye that syngyng Byrdes did make Bad me pul vpp my Hart agayne and sorrow sone forsake For though quoth Reason she be gon on whom thy Lyfe dependes Yet fond it is to carke and care where there is none amendes Thus foorth I went in the grooues I raunged heare and theare Wheras I hard suche pleasauÌ„t tunes as Heauen had ben neare I thynke that if Amphion hadde ben present ther to playe Or if Sir Orphâ—us myght haue helâ— his Harp that present day Or if Apollâ— with his Lute had stryuen to excell None of them all by Musycke sholde haue borne away the Bell. I rather iudge the thracian wold his Harpe wherwiâ—h he played Haue cast a way as one whom Ire had vtterly dismayed Such passyng tunes of sundry Byrds I neuer herd before The further I went in the Woods the noyse resounded more O happy Byrdes quoth I what lyfe is this that you do leade How far from Care and mysery how far from Feare and dread With what reioysynge melodie passâ— you this fadyng Lyfe While Man vnhappiest creatur liues In wretched toyle and stryfe Styll foorth I went and wonderd at this plesaunt