Selected quad for the lemma: lord_n
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A18745
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A myrrour for man where in he shall see the myserable state of thys worlde
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Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.
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1552
(1552)
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STC 5241; ESTC S105032
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3,021
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8
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¶ A Myrrour for man where in he shall see the myserable state of thys worlde O Man remember from hence thou shalte passe Lyke as thy fygure ones sene in a glasse Doeth vanysshe awaye yea so shall thy breath Bring earth vnto earth wheÌ„ strike the doth death Thys world wyse men cal a thorow fayre to the Folowe thou it not from vyce do thou flee Seke after knowledge the trueth to auaunce Desyre not to see thy neyghbours myschaunce Beware of thre thynges print them well in mynde The deuyl the fleshe the worlde that is blynde Feare God and thy Prince be looth to offende Take nothing in hande but thincke on the ende Let wysdom the rule and knowledge wyth al Than thou shalt stand fast wher other men fall Yf thou wyll auoyde greate aduersytie Let other mens fautes be myrrour to the Or yf thou wylt leade a lyfe wyth great ease Do as most men do thou shalt feawe displease Desire not to haue no more than thy owne For corne is not had but wher sede is sowen Thorowe coueteousnes is all out of turne And many riche realmes it hath brought to ruyne Some men haue treasure and hartes ease at wyll Yet euer wyshinge and neare hath theyr fyll Soch fylthy lucre enbraceth theyr harâ—es So that thei may haue thei force not who smartes And though they haue all yet for more they gape They drinke both the wyne lokes for the grape Whych maketh the poore ryght sore to lament For they haue nothing but for dobble rent They wold wyn theyr fode wyth labour and sweat Yet all wyl not helpe theyr rent is so great And wher they were wont to vpholde a plowe Now skarce can they fynd the grasse for a cowe Theyr chyldreÌ„ do watche as haukes for their praye Yet can they not get one good meale a daye Soch woful morninge as is in Englande Was neuer before I dare take in hande In euery place where as I do walcke I heare men complayne and thys is thayr talcke O Lord God they saye now heare our requeste And comfort the poore that are sore oppreste The riche that fares well and hath nothing skant Doth neuer conceaue what the poore doeth want But yf that some men on them take no rueth They are all vndone this is the playne trueth I wold this were knowen among the best forte ThaÌ„ shuld the poore men soone haue some coÌ„forte The rich are fayre flowres the poore ar but weedes Yet God shal take count of euery mans dedes And when that the Lord shall syt in Iudgement Than they that dyd wronge ryght sore shal repeÌ„t Therfore o thou man that fayne wold do well Lyue thou according to Christes gospell Folowe not theyr steps whose dedes are vniust Remembre thys world shal turne vnto dust Yf conscyence be slayne wyth pompe and ryches Wysdome is turned to greate folyshnes Of no kynd of thyng desyre not to myche Yf thou be contente than sure thou arte ryche Better is lyttel wyth ease to posses Than with moche trouble to haue greate ryches As sycknes and health can neuer agre So golde wythout rest is but mysere Beholde wel thys world take warnynge in tyme And marke how they fall that vseth to clyme Euen nowe a dayes soche wonders are sene As many men thought coulde neuer haue bene Some men from honor are brought to great care And endeth theyr lyues ryght naked and bare Some men from nothynge do come to estate And yet at the lengthe are infortunate Some men lyueth in welth and pleasure long whyll Yet sodaynely gone and put in exyll Syns wealth nor honor on earth hath no rest A poore godly lyfe I thynke it is best Amonge all degrees a faute may be spyed Whych maketh thys worlde to lye a tonesyed Lordes were ones liberal but nowe waxe they harde The poore and nedye they lytle regarde Iudges geue Iudgement sometimes not with right Lawyers for money hyedes truâ—th out of syght Byshops and preachers seke lyuynges agayne And whan they waxe ryche they take lytle payne Marchantes crafâ—es meÌ„ selles al thynges to deare And tell them who â—â—yst that wyl they not heare Great bankets are kepte where good is plente To noryshe theyr lustes nothynge is deynte Baylyfs and sheryfs one faute they punyshe And seeth a hundreth encrease and floryshe Gentyl men were wont examples to geue Whych caused poore men ryght well for to lyue But now who lyues worse than men of renowne O howe is vertue so sone layde downe Women do wander wyth euery doctryne And some do dyspute moche lyke a deuyne Yong men are blynded so wyth vayne glory That wyse men do laghe at theyr great folly Men shoulde learne wysedome at men graue saege Who doteth so moche as men doeth in aege Thus vpon hye thynges I wyll geue no saute It may be well sene that fewe is wythout faute But sens that the lorde thys world dyd begynne Was neuer yet sene so moche vyce and synne As is now vpon earth amonge more and les Whos 's dedes yf you mark may beare good witnes The father doth now dysceaue hys owne chylde Who trusteth hys brother is oft tymes be gylde Dysceyt and falshed puts ryght out of place Trueth kepeth sylence thys is a sore case Sweryng and whoredome dysemblaunce and crafte For all theyr preachynge yet wyl not be lafte Usery is held wyth them that seme wyse Nowe for a ryght trade of good marchaundyse All thynges are turned so farre oute of frame That men lyue now lyke beastes wythout shame Now those that do well is worne out of thoughte But pryuye pyckthankes are made vp of nought Flatterers wyth tales doeth worke men moche woo Whose wordes are as swyft as shaft out of boo Defame and sklander are busy ryght ofte About all estates wyth wordes fayre an softe Yf vertue come not and vanyshe all thys Thys word can not last not longe as it is I truste ones to se that men shal abore Theyr vycyous lyues and repente it sore Than god shall sende grace from heuen aboue To set vs in rest and brotherlye loue Than we shal se peace wher now is dyscorde And syng psalmes wyth hert in prayse of the lorde The poore shall lyue well the ryche shall reioyce Than god shall haue laude of euery mans voyce The earth shal encrease and bringe forth moch sede Than shall we not wante no good thing we nede In euery kyngdom shal be rest and peace All maner of plagues at that tyme shall seace So that al vyces both braunches and rote Shall wyther away and lye vnder fote Than we shal prospere and lyue in good health And all thynges shall turne vnto our owne wealth God shall so loue vs yf we do bewayle Ther shall no daunger agaynst vs preuayle Nor no mysfortune shall make vs afrayed For God shall so be oure succour and ayde Ryght happye is he that lyueth tyll than To see soch great loue betwene God and man ¶ Here haue I set forth after a playne sorte The state of thys worlde in sentens ryght shorte For the thou blynde man that goeth astraye I lyghten thys lampe to learne thee the waye Now here is two wayes do those which thou wylte Ether to be safe or els to be spylte I can do no more but shewe thee the ryght To chaunge the yll lyfe lyes not in my myght I wold that my wordes were grauen in stone That al the whole worlde myght loke them vppon Althoughe they haue heard as moch as I know Yet think they on wartes wheÌ„ troÌ„pets doth blowe The oftner they se a thynge that is yll The lesse cause they haue to beare it good wyll Yf I could thonder in euery mans eares I wold them exhort wyth wepynge and teares Yet many do teache and fewe do amende They take lytle hede what tyme they do spende Though plage vpoÌ„ plage doth shew them gods yre Yet for to lyue wel they haue no desyre Nowe what shulde I more on soche thynges deffyne Man hath no more grace than god doeth assyne Therfore vnto god I wolde haue them crepe And for theyr great synnes to morne wayle wepe He wyl them receaue and geue them a place Wher angels do lyue by syght of hys face Finis quod Thomas Churschard God saue the Kyng ¶ Imprynted at London by Roberte Toye dwellynge in Paules churche yarde at the sygne of the Bell. Cum priuilegio ad Imprimendum Solum