And frendship hath receiued suche wounde as he is almoste deade And hatefull harte with malice greate so boyles in cankerd minde That flatteries flearyng in my face had almoste made me blinde But now I see all is not golde that glittereth in the eye Nor yet suche frends as thei professe as now by profe I finde Though secret spight by craft hath made a coate of Panters skin And thinks to finde me in the shade by sleight to wrapp me in Yet God be praised my eye is cleare and can beholde the Sonne When falshood dares not once appeare to ende that he begonne Thus tyme shall trie the thyng amisse whiche God sone shortly sende And turne the hatte that fained is to be a faithfull frende Finis THe Spider with greate skill doeth trauell daie by daie His limmes no tyme lye still to set his house in staie And when he hath it wrought thinkyng therein to raigne A blast of winde vnthought doeth driue it doune againe The profe whereof is true to make his worke indure He paines hym self a newe in hope to dwell more sure Or in some secret place a corner of the wall He trauaileth a spare to builde and rest with all His pleasure swete to staie when he to rest is bent An vgly shamble Flie approcheth to his tent And there entends by forse his labours greate to win Or els to yelde his corse by fatall death therein Thus is the Spiders nest from tyme to tyme throwne downe And he to labour prest with endles pains vnknowne So suche as louers be like trauell doe attaine Those endles works ye see â—er alwaies full of paine W. Hunis THe subtill â—â—â—y sleights that worldly men doe worke The freÌ„dly showes vnder whose shade most craft doth ofteÌ„ lurke Enforceth me alas with yernfull voice to saie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie The birde that dreds no guile is sonest caught in snare Eche gentle harte deuoide of craft is sonest brought to care Good nature sonest trapt whiche giues me cause to saie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie I see the serpent vile that lurks vnder the grene How subtelly he shrouds hym self that he maie not be sene And yet his fosters bane his leryng looks bewraie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie Wo worthe the fainyng looks one fauour that doe waite Wo worthe the fained frendly harte that harbours depe deceit Wo worthe the Vipers broode oh chrise wo worthe I saie All worldly wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie Finis M. Edwards WIth painted speache I list not proue my cunnyng for to trie Norâ—et will vse to fill my penne with gilefull flatterie With pen in hand and harte in breast shall faithfull promise make To loue you best and serue you moste for your great vertues sake And since dame Nature hath you deckt with gifts aboue the rest Let not disdaine a harbour finde within your noble brest For loue hath ledd his lawe alike to men of eche degree So that the begger with the prince shall loue as well as he I am no prince I must confesse nor yet of princes line Nor yet a brutishe begger borne that feeds among the Swine The fruite shall trie the tree at last the blossomes good or no Then doe not iudge of me the worse till you haue tried me so As I deserue so then reward I make you iudge of all If I be false in worde or deede let lightnyng thunder fall And furies fell with franticke fitts bereue and stopp my breathe For an example to the rest if I shall breake my faithe Finis M. B. Trie and then trust THe sainct I serue and haue besought full oft Vpon my knees to stande my Goddes good With hope did holde my head sometyme aloft And fed my faunyng frende with daintie foode But now I see that words are nought but winde The sweter meate the sowrer sauce I finde Thus while I helde the Ele by the taile I had some hope yet neuer wanted feare Of double dread that man can neuer faile That will presume to take the Wolfe by the eare I snatche for sothe muche like to Esops dogg I sought for fishe and alwaies caught a frogg Thus did I long bite on the fomyng bitt Whiche found me plaie enough vnto my paine Thus while I loued I neuer wanted fitt But liued by losse and sought no other gaine But why should I mislike with Fortunes fetters Since that the like haue hapt vnto my betters Richard Hill. Complainyng to his frende he replieth wittely A. THe fire shall freese the frost shall frie the frozen mountains hie B. what straÌ„ge thinges shal dame nature force to turne her course awrie A. My Ladie hath me left and taken a newe man B. This is not straunge it happes oft tymes the truthe to scan A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. ethe one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. By skilfull meanes I her reclaime to stope vnto my luer B. Suche hagard haukes will sore awaie of them who can be fuct A. With siluer bells and hoode my ioye was her to decke B. She was full gorgd she would the soner giue the checke A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Her chirping lippes would chirp to me swete wordes of her desire B. Suche chirping birdes who euer sawe to preach still â—n one brire A. She saied she loued me dests and would doe till she die B. She saied in wordes she thought it not as tyme doeth trie A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Can no man winne a woman so to make her loue endure B. To make the Foxe his wiles to leaue what man will put in vre A. Why then there is no choice but all women will chaunge B. As men doe vse so some women doe loue to raunge A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Sithe slipper gaine falles to my lot farwell that glidyng praie B. Sithe that the dice doeth runne a wrie betimes leaue of thy plaie A. I will no more lament the thyng I maie not haue B. Then by exchaunge the losse to come all shalt thou saue A. Loue will I refraine B. thereby thou shalt gaine A. With losse I will leaue B. she will thee deceiue A. That is not straunge B. then let her raunge M. Edwards No paines comparable to his attempt VVHat watche what we what want what wracke Is due to those that
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
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
full fraught of noble praise Of all the goodes that there may be possest A faithfull freend I iudge to be the best O freendly league although to late begunne Yet time shall try our troth is well imployed And that we both shall see that we haue wonne Such fastned faith as can not be destroyed By enuious rage or slaunders bitter blowe That seekes the good to ouerthrowe Finis R. Hill. 11. No woordes but deedes THE wrong is great the paine aboue my power That yeeldes such care in doutfull dennes to drowne Such happe is hard where fortune dooth so lower As freendly looke is turned to froward frowne Is this the trust that faithfull treendes can finde With those that yet haue promise broke By deedes in dout as though no woordes can binde A vowed freend to hold him to his yoke O faithlesse freend what can assure your minde That doutes so soone before you haue cause why To what hard happe dooth Fortune here me binde When woordes nor deedes can no way satisfye What can I write that hath not oft been saide What haue I saide that other hath not affyrmed What is approued that ought to be assayed Or what is vowed that shall not be performed Cast of mistrust in haste no credite giue To this or that that breedeth freendes vnrest No doubt at all but trust me if I liue My deedes shall prooue that all is for the best And this beleeue the Sea shall ceasse to flowe The Sunne to shine within the setled skie All thinges on earth shall leaue to spring and growe Yea euery foule shall want his winges to flye Eare I in thought shall seeme once to retyre If you my freend remaine as I desyre Nowe lose no time but vse that whyle you may Forget not this a dogge shall haue a day Finis R. D. 12. He desyreth exchange of lyfe THE day delayed of that I most doo wishe Wherewith I feede and starue in one degree With wishe and want still serued in one dishe Aliue as dead by proofe as you may sowe To whom of olde this prouerbe well it serues Whyle grasse dooth growe the seelly Horse he sterues Tweene these extreames thus doo I rome the race Of my poore life this certaynely I knowe Tweene would and want vnwarely that dooth passe More swift then shot out of the archers howe As Spider drawes her line in vayne all day I watch the net and others haue the pray And as by proofe the greedy dogge dâ—â—â— gnâ—â—â— The bared bone all onely for the taste So to and fro this lothsome life I drawe With fancies forst and fled with vaine repast Narsissus brought vnto the water brinke So aye thirst I the more that I doo drinke Loe thus I dye and yet I seeme not sicke With smart vnseene my selfe my selfe I weare With prone desire and power that is not quicke With hope aloft nowe drenched in dispaire Trayned in trust for no reward assignd The more I haste the more I come behinde With hurt to heale in frozen yse to frye With losse to laugh this is a woonderous case Fast fetred here is forste away to flye As hunted Hare that Hound hath in the chase With winges and spurres for all the haste I make As like to lose as for to drawe the stake The dayes be long that hang vpon desert The life is irke of ioyes that be delayed The time is short for to requite the smart That dooth proceede of promise long vnpaid That to the last of this my fainting breath I wishe exchange of life for happy death Finis L. Vaux 13. Of the instabilitie of youth WHEN I looke backe and in my selfe beholde The wandring wayes that youth could not descry And markt the fearefull course that youth did holde And mette in mind eache steppe youth strayed a wry My knees I bowe and from my hart I call O Lorde forget these faultes and follies all For nowe I see howe voyde youth is of skill I see also his prime time and his end I doo confesse my faultes and all my yll And sorrowe sore for that I did offend And with a mind repentant of all crimes Pardon I aske for youth ten thousand times The humble hart hath daunted the proud mind Eke wysedome hath geuen ignorance a fall And wit hath taught that folly could not finde And age hath youth her subiect and her thrall Therefore I pray O Lorde of life and trueth Pardon the faultes committed in my youth Thou that dydst graunt the wyse king his request Thou that in Whale thy prophet didst preserue Thou that forgauest the wounding of thy brest Thou that dydst saue the theefe in state to sterue Thou only God the geuer of all grace Wipe out of mind the path of youthes vaine race Thou that by power to lyfe didst rayse the dead Thou that of grace restorest the blinde to sight Thou that for loue thy life and loue out bled Thou that of fauour madest the lame goe ryght Thou that canst heale and helpe in all assayes Forgeue the gilth that grewe in youthes vayne wayes And nowe since I with faith and doubtlesse minde Doo fly to thee by prayer to appease thy yre And since that thee I onely seeke to finde And hope by faith to attayne my iust desyre Lorde minde no more youthes error and vnskill And able age to doo thy holy wyll Finis L. Vaux 14. Most happy is that state alone Where woordes and deedes agree in one BY painted woordes the silly simple man To trustlesse trappe is trayned now and than And by conseyte of sweete alluring tale He bites the baites that breedes his bitter bale To beawties blast cast not thy rolling eye In pleasaunt greene doo stinging Serpent lye The golden Pill hath but a bitter taste In glittering glasse a poyson ranckest plaste So pleasant woordes without perfourming deedes May well be deemed to spring of Darnel seedes The freendly deede is it that quickly tryes Where trusty faith and freendly meaning lyes That state therefore most happy is to me Where woordes and deedes most faithfully agree My freend yf thou wylt keepe thy honest name Fly from the blotte of barking slaunders blame Let not in woord thy promise be more large Then thou in deede art wylling to discharge Abhorred is that false dissembling broode That seemes to beare two faces in one hoode To say a thing and not to meane the same Wyll turne at length to lose of thy good name Wherefore my freend let double dealing goe In steade whereof let perfect plainenesse flowe Doo thou no more in idle woordes exceede Then thou intendes to doo in very deede So good report shall spreade thy woorthy prayse For being iust in woord and deede alwayes You worldly wightes that worldly dooers are Before you let your woord slip foorth to farre Consyder wel what inconuenience springes By breache of promise made in lawfull thinges First God mislikes where such deceite dooth swarme Next it redoundeth vnto thy neighbours
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
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
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