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A18748
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A musicall consort of heauenly harmonie (compounded out of manie parts of musicke) called Churchyards charitie; Churchyards charitie
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Churchyard, Thomas, 1520?-1604.
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1595
(1595)
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STC 5245; ESTC S105039
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29,766
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66
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A MVSICALL CONSORT OF HEAuenly harmonie compounded out of manie parts of Musicke called CHVRCHYARDS CHARITIE Imprinted at London by Ar. Hatfield for William Holn 5. 1595. TO THE RIGHT HONORAble ROBERT DEVEREVX Earle of Essex and Eâ—e Vâ—count of Hereford Lord Ferrer of Chartley Borâ—her and Louâ—ine Master of the Queenes Maiesties horse Knight of the noble order of the garter and one of hir Maiesties honorable priuie Counsell Thomas Churchyard wisheth increase of all wished honor happines of life worlds good will and euerlasting fame A Greater boldnes cannot be committed Right Honorable than to present Pamphlets and Poetrie to noble Counsellors that gouernes a publike state though in all ages reasonable writers that kept an orderly compasse were suffered in verse or prose so their inuentions were not farced ful of vanitie to shew good will in the dedication of some honest labors to such honorable personages as was woorthie of any good volumes or in the woorth of vertue excelled the waight and value of numbers that neither merits laudation nor shew no sufficiency to be saluted with a booke But what I see and the world reports of your Lordship makes me somwhat hardie to offer a present yet simplenes of spirit and want of profound learning hath so muffled my muses that they dare not speake nor I presume to write neuertheles thinking on your twenty fold honorable father my great good Lord matchlesse in our world that caried in his breast the feare of God and wan with his life the loue of men so noble was his minde I stood nothing discouraged bicause a soldier like noble sonne of his is left aliue to follow the steps of so stately a father and to shine aboue and beyond the course of thousands in this time or is likely to come after this age To treate of particulars in that behalfe I should presume too far and vnaduisedly come too short of matter fit for this cause Wherefore I am to leaue those deepe considerations and drop into the shallownes of mine owne studies that brings foorth a booke of the coldnes of charitie bicause a great noble man told me this last wet sommer The weather was too colde for Poets On which fauorable words I bethought me that charitie in court and all the world ouer was become so cold that neither hot sommer feruent fire nor heate of sunne could make warme againe in that comfortable sort as our forefathers haue felt it so my good L. following that onely theame of cold weather being apt to take any theam to write on in as sweete a phrase and termes as I may deuise putting in the praise of Poets withall I smoothly passe ouer without bitter speeches the corruption of this world and disguised maners of men riding by the new fanglenes of a multitude and not dashing any ones infirmitie with blot of disgrace or blemish of credit hoping the best sort shall stand pleased with howsoeuer the woorst happily may be touched do of meere malice wrest awry the honest meaning of a plaine writer For the dutifull regard towards the purchasing of your L. fauor hath so sifted euery word and sentence that no one verse or line shall bee offensiue to a sounde iudgement and good construction And for that now by reason of great age my wits and inuentions are almost wearied with writing of bookes this being one of the last I tooke this taske in hand at large to dilate somewhat of Charitie which would to God I had as great power to reuiue as the world hath occasion to remember Thus ouer-bold to trouble your L. so long with the reading of so simple an Epistle I proceed vnder your honorable supportation to my purposed matter wishing your L. euerlasting fame credit and honor most humbly at commandement THOMAS CHVRCHYARD AN EVERLASTING MEMORIE OF CHRISTIAN comfort to the Queenes most excellent Maiestie O Grashous dame in whose graue iudgment great The heauens hie lies open plaine to sight The earth belowe takes from thy regall seat In darkest daies his hope and cleerest light For at thy feet a world of woorthies fall ELIZABETH a monarke to them all An Empresse heere three kingdoms showes vs plaine On which three realms our Queen may rightly raine O treble Queen the sweete and highest part That we like best and shrillest voice doth sound The onely meane to shew deepe musicks art Where all the skill of well set song is found Grant silly man a grace that meanes to sing Of heaunly loue and of none other thing He sings of peace a song should lull asleepe The fellest feends and fearfull bugs below Peace charms with words the wolfe that wearies sheep That neither lambe nor kid astraie shall goe For as the hen hir chickens keepes from kite So charitie doth saue hir children all From common plagues and wicked worlds despite And all the wrath that from the clouds can fall She spreds hir wings to keepe hir birds from cold And learns poore chicks to picke vp graines of gold This charitie so checkles ore hir broode She scrapes the earth to make hir yoong ones feed And freely from hir selfe doth spare them foode She takes in hart such care for those that neede If charitie were not the onely nurse To nourish vp each thing that life doth beare This backward world would grow from ill to woorse And brutish â—olke would banish loue and feare Warme Christian loue as long as life doth last Doth bide the shocke and brunt of eurie blast And kindled once in any princely hart It burnes and flames as hot as Aethna hill Creepes throw the vains and nerues in euerie parâ— Cannot be quencht with water wit nor skill A heaunly grace maintains a heaunly loue Each thing diuine diuinely is set foorth Planted like rocke that nothing may remoue Garnisht like gold or perle of greatest woorth The charitie I meane is garded so And for hir saith through fire and aire may goe But what is that to him that sings a song â—f twenty parts when he one voice must sound Presumes to tell a tale perchance too long To sacred eares whose iudgement is profound Sing hie or lowe how ere the tune he takes For one small iar the song begins againe No shift may serue for concord musicke makes Most harmonie consists in pricksong plaine Diuision doth but teare in peeces small The minnems long and little crotchets all Full softly blowes a quiet calmie winde A still milde voice doth please the hearers well No note nor ring so much contents the mind As solemne sound of cleere sweet siluer bell O that my muse might get so great a grace As credit win throw any sound it shoes I die to see one fearfull frowne of face VVhere these meeke words and humble verses goes Now mirthles song begin thy new found note As strange a straine as any eare hath hard If world would learne to sing the same by rote Good charitie should grow in more regard Play well thy part so
throte ere we be ware Cold poison â—onke a quicke dispatch it giues Cold craâ—â—s dries vp the sences where they are Cold lims waxe lame and breeds diseases rare Thus cold mars all then warmth God send vs now That eurie part of man feele comfort throw Cold food is faint vnto weake stomacks still Warme broths keeps health in perfect sound estate Warme daies we wish cold bitter aire is ill Cold blasts be nought sharpe blustring storms we hate Sweetly sun shines in world earlie or late Cold quicklie caught goes seldome soone away And long cold nights kils some before the day Cold drie hard froâ—â— makes thousands seeke for fire Warme meate giues spreet to either sicke or sound Cold hungrie baites makes many a horse to tire Warme clouts and clothes doth comfort eurie wound No fruit thriues well where cold doth much abound The warmth doth ioy both spring and fall of leafe Makes dead things quicke delights both dum deafe Yea blind and lame and all that life doth beare Are glad of heate then cold is out of grace Cold words God wot when meaning scarce is there Kils many a man in court or any place O wold to God warme deeds did show his face That charitie hir whole effect may show On those that needs which knows not where to goe A colder time in world was neuer seene The skies do lowre the sun and moone waxe dim Sommer scarce knowne but that the leaues are greene The winters waste driues water ore the brim Vpon the land great flotes of wood may swim Nature thinks scorne to do hir dutie right Because we haue displeasde the Lord of light Cold works cold words cold world and al things cold Showes death drawes neer and then a deep cold graue Such hard cold hap may make a yoong man old Or old gray beard become a gallâ—e slaue Well let them loose that can neâ— in nor saue The state of man on strange hap hazard lies As one fals downe so doth another rise If charitie would once bespread hirraies As Phoebus showes abroad his shining beames Or winter cold would bring some sommer daies And rid vs soone from all these great extreames Then shee dies not but haplie sleeps and dreames Now waken hir that haue most powre to speake I haue tane cold and so my voice growes weake You whose cleer speech doth loud as trumpet sound And may command the world the skies and stars And rules at beck the massie earth so round Sets orders downe and can make peace and wars And hath the force to breake big iron bars Call charitie fot loue once home againe That shee may heare hir people poore complaine My breath but bores a hole within the aire My date neer don cals for a shrouding sheet My darke dim daies lookes for no weather faire Mine eies can scarce look to my stumbling feet My wounted muse forsakes my drowping spreet My books and scroules and all that I haue wrot Hides now their heads as I were cleane forgot When aged yeers showes death amid my face My words are of small credit in this plite My hap and hope is in a better place Wherefore of world I plainly speake and write And ere I goe discharge my conshence quite To win the wise and loose the fonder sort That vnto quicke nor dead yeelds good report The wise well won waies ech thing as it ought Mistakes no terme nor sentence wrests awrie The fond will read awhile but cares for nought Yet casts on ech mans works a frowning eie This neither treats of matters lowe not hie But finds a meane that ech good meaning might In all true meanes take charitie aright FINIS A PRAISE OF POETRIE Imprinted at London by Ar. Hatfield for William Holme 1595. A praise of Poetrie some notes therof drawen out of the Apologie the noble minded Knight sir Phillip Sidney wrate WHen world was at the very woorst And vice did much abound And for offence the earth was curst Yet charitie was found Among the wise and woorthie sort Who euer had good chance with treble fame by their report True vertue did aduance The Poets and Philosophers Stept first on stately stage And plaid their parts with hazards great In euery world and age In eury age while wits of men Could iudge the good from bad Who gat the gift of toong or pen Of world great honor had Good Poets were in hie esteeme When leaâ—ning grew in price Their vertue and their verse did seeme A great rebuke to vice With blunt base people of small sence They fall now in disdaine But Sydneyes booke in their defence Doth raise them vp againe And sets them next Diuines in ranke As members meete and fit To strike the worlds blinde boldnes blanke And whet the bluntest wit Heere followes Histories good store That much thereof shall tell If paines may purchase thanks therefore My hope is answerd well AMphyons gift and grace was great In Thebes old stories saie And beasts and birds would leaue their meatâ— To heare Orpheus plaie In Rome were three of peereles fame That florisht in their daies Which three did beare the onely name Of knowledge skill and praise In Italy of yore did dwell Three men of spechall spreete Whose gallant stiles did sure excell Their verses were so sweete In France three more of fame we finde Whose bookes do well declare They beautifide their starely minde With inward vertues rare In England liued three great men Did Poetrie aduance And all they with the gift of pen Gaue glorius world a glance In Scotland finde we other twaine Were writers of good woorth Whose studies through their Poets vaine Brought many verses foorth In Ireland to this present time Where learning is not mich With Poetrie in verse or rime Their language they inrich In Wales the very remnant yet Of Brittaine bloud and race They honor men of speshall wit And giues a Poet grace Albinus long that rained heere Made verses in his youth And in his age as doth appeere With verse auancst the truth Among the sauage Indians still Who knowes no ciuill thing They honor writers of some skill Their parents liues to sing Among the anshent noble Danes And Saxsons long ago We read of many Poets names Whose woorthy wits did flo The graue wise learned men of Greece Durst neuer shew their art Till those Philosophers presumd To plaie the Poets part Some sang in verse their naturall Philosophie we finde And in sweete songs heroicall Exprest their secret minde So morall counsels vttred were In that same selfe sweete sort Thus Poets flourisht eury where As stories makes report And marshall matters in those daies Were song and set aloft So some the art of warre did raise Vnto the skies full oft Sibillas prophesies in verse Were alwaies vttred well The oracels of Delphos to In verse