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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A21162	The paradyse of daynty deuises Conteyning sundry pithy preceptes, learned counsels, and excellent inuentions, right pleasant and profitable for all estates. Deuised and written for the most part, by M. Edwardes, sometimes of her Maiesties Chappell: the rest, by sundry learned gentlemen, both of honor, and worship, whose names hereafter folowe.; Paradise of daynty devises	Edwards, Richard, 1523?-1566.	1578 (1578)	STC 7517; ESTC S111775	54,585	90

numbred freendes forgoe them al he must The fairest flesh and liuelest bloud is turnd at length to dust Experience giues a certen ground That certen here is nothing found Then trust to that which aye remaines the blisse of heauens aboue Which Time nor Fate nor Wind nor Storme is able to remoue Trust to that sure celestial rocke that restes in glorious throne That hath bene is and must be stil our anker hold alone The world is but a vanitie In heauen seeke we our suretie FINIS F. K. 44. A Vertuous Gentlewoman in the praise of hir loue J Am a Virgin faire and free and freely doe reioyce I sweetely warble sugred notes from siluer voyce For which delightful ioyes yet thanke I curtesie loue By whose almighty power such sweete delightes I proue I walke the pleasant fieldes adornd with liuely greene And view the fragrant flowers most louely to be seene The purple Columbine the Couslippe and the Lillie The Violet sweete the Daizie and Daffadillie The Wodbines on the hedge the red Rose and the white And each fine flowres els that rendreth sweete delight Among the which I choose al 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 loftye skie vpliftes Whom louing me I loue onely for vertues sake When vertuously to loue al onely care I take Of al which fresh faire flowers that flower that doth appeare In my conceit most like to him I hold so deare I gather it I kisse it and eake deuise with it Such kind of louely speach as is for louers fit And then of all my flowres I make a garlond fine With which my golden wyer heares togither I do twine And sette it on my head so taking that delight That I would take had I my louer stil in sight For as in goodly flowres mine eyes great pleasure find So are my louers giftes most pleasant to my mind Vpon which vertuous giftes I make more sweete repast Then they that for loue sportes the sweetest ioyes do tast FINIS F. K. 45. Oppressed with sorow he wisheth death JF Fortune may enforce the careful hart to cry And griping griefe constraine the wounded wight lament Who then alas to mourne hath greater cause then I Against whose hard mishap both Heauen and earth is bent For whom no helpe remaines for whom no hope is left From whom all happy happ is fled and pleasure quite bereft Whose life nought can prolong whose health nought can procure Whose passed proofe of pleasant ioy Mischaunce hath chaunged to greefes anoy And loe whose hope of better day Is ouer whelmd with long delay Oh hard mishap Each thing I plainly see whose vertues may auaile To ease the pinching paine which gripes the groning wyght By Phisicks sacred skill whose rule doth seldome fayle Through labours long inspect is playnly brought to light I know there is no fruite no leafe no roote no rind No hearbe no plant no iuyce no gumme no metal deepely mind No Pearle no precious stone ne Ieme of rare effect Whose vertues learned Gallens bookes at large do not detect Yet al their force can not appease The furious fittes of my disease Nor any drugge of phisickes art Can ease the greefe that gripes my hart Oh strange disease I heare the wise affirme that Nature hath in store A thousand secrete salues which Wisedome hath out found To coole the scorching heate of euery smarting sore And healeth deepest scarce though greeuous be the wound The auncient prouerbe sayes that none so festred greefe Doth grow for which the gods them selues haue not ordayned releefe But I by proofe do know such prouerbs to be vaine And thinke that nature neuer knew the plague that I sustaine And so not knowing my distresse Hath left my greefe remedilesse For why the heauens for me prepare To liue in thought and dye in care Oh lasting paine By chaunge of ayre I see by hant of healthful soyle By dyet duely kept grose humors are expeld I know that greefes of mind and inwards harts turmoile By faithful freendes aduise in time may be repeld Yet al this nought auailes to kil that me anoyes I meane to stop these flouds of care that ouerflow my ioyes No none exchange of place can change my lucklesse lot Like one I liue and so must dye whom Fortune hath forgot No counsel can preuaile with mee Nor sage aduise with greefe agree For he that feeles the panges of hel Can neuer hope in heauen to dwel Oh deepe despaire What liues on earth but I whose trauaile reapes no gaine The wearied Horse and Oxe in stal and stable rest The Ante with sommers toyle beares out the winters paigne The fowle that flyes al day at night returnes to rest The Ploughmans weary worke amid the winters mire Rewarded is with sommers gaine which yeeldes him double hire The silly laboring soule which drudges from day to day At night his wages truely payd contented goth his way And comming home his drowsie head He cowcheth close in homely bed Wherein no sooner downe he lyes But sleepe hath straight possest his eyes Oh happy man. The Souldier biding long the brunt of mortall warres Where life is neuer free from dint of deadly foyle At last comes ioyful home though mangled all with scarres Where frankly voyde of feare he spends the gotten spoyle The Pirate lying long amid the fooming floods With euery flaw in hazard is to loose both life and goods 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 mind In seeking rest vnrest doth find Oh lucklesse lotte Oh cursed caitife wretch whose heauy hard mishappe Doth wish tenne thousand times that thou hadst not ben borne Since fate hath thee condemned to liue in sorrowes lappe Where waylings waste thy life of all redresse forlorne What shal thy griefe appease who shal thy torment stay Wilt thou thy selfe with murthering hands enforce thy owndecay No farre be thou from me my selfe to stoppe my breath The gods forbid whom I beseech to worke my ioyes by death For lingring length of lothsome life Doth stirre in me such mortal strife That whiles for life and death I cry In death I liue and liuing dye Oh froward fate Loe here my hard mishap loe here my strange disease Loe here my deepe despaire loe here my lasting paine Loe here my froward fate which nothing can appease Loe here how others toyle rewarded is with gaine While lucklesse loe I liue in losse of labours 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 trthlesse trust to times

sonne no whit my harte should paine Eye Where fancie beareth swaye there Cupid will bee bolde And reason flies awaie from Cupids shafte of golde If you finde cause thereby some deale of painfull smarte Alas blame not your eye but blame consent of harte Auctour My harte must I excuse and laye the fault on thee Because thy sight did chuse when harte from thought was free Thy sight thus brought consente consent hath bred my grief And grief bids bee content with sorrowe for relief FINIS M. Hunnis 64. Fyndyng no ioye he desireth death THe Conie in his caue the Feret doeth annoye And fleyng thence his life to saue hym self he doeth destroye His Berrie rounde about beset with Hunters snares So that when he to scape starts out is caught therein vnwares Like choise poore man haue I to bide and reste in Loue Or els from thence to flie as badde a death to proue I see in Loue to reste vnkindnesse doeth pursue To rent the harte out of his breast whiche is a Louer true And if from Loue I starte as one that Loue forsaks Then pensiue thoughts my harte doeth pearce and so my life it taks Then thus to flie or bide hard is the choise to chuse Since death hath campd and trenched eche side saith life now refuse Content I am therefore my life therein to spende And death I take a salue for sore my wearie daies to ende And thus I you require that faithfull Loue professe When carcas cased is in cheste and bodie laied on hearse Your brinishe teares to saue suche as my corse shall moue And therewith write vpon my graue beholde the force of Loue. FINIS M. Hunnis Hope well and haue well IN hope the Shipman hoiseth saile in hope of passage good In hope of healthe the sicke man doeth suffer losse of blood In hope the prisoner linckt in chaines hopes libertie to finde Thus hope breds health and health breds ease to euery troubled mind In hope desire getts victorie in hope greate comfort spryngs In hope the Louer liues in ioyes he feares no dreadfull styngs In hope we liue and maie abide suche stormes as are assignde Thus hope breds health health breds ease to euery troubled mynde In hope we easely suffer harme in hope of future tyme In hope of fruite the paine semes sweete that to the tree doeth clime In hope of Loue suche glorie growes as now by propfe I finde That hope breds health health breds ease to euery troubled mynde FINIS M. Hunnis He requesteth some frendly comfort affirmyng his constancie THe mountaines hie whose loftie topps doeth mete the hautie sky The craggie rocke that to the sea free passage doeth deny The aged Oke that doeth resist the force of blustryng blaste The pleasaunt hearbe that euery where a fragrant smell doeth caste The Lions force whose courage stout declares a princelike might The Eagle that for worthinesse is borne of kyngs in fight The Serpent eke whose poisoned iaws doeth belche out venime vile The lothsome Tode that shumeth light and liueth in exile These these I saie and thousands more by trackt of tyme decaie And like to tyme doe quite consume and bade from tyme to claie But my true harte and seruice vowed shall laste tyme out of minde And still remaines as thyne by dome as Cupid hath assingde My faithe loe here I vowe to thee my trothe thou knowest right well My goods my frends my life is thyne what neede I more to tell I am not myne but thyne I vowe thy hests I will obeye And serue thee as a seruaunt ought in pleasyng if I maie And sithe I haue no fliyng wyngs to see thee as I wishe Ne sinnes to cut the siluer streames as doeth the glidyng fishe Wherefore leaue now forgetfulnesse and sende againe to me And straine thy azured vaines to write then I maie gretyng see And thus farewell more deare to me then chiefest frende I haue Whose Loue in harte I minde to shrine till death his fee doe craue FINIS M. Edwardes His complaneth his mishapp SHall rigour raigne where ruth hath run shall fansie now forsake Shall fortune lose that fauour wonne shall not your anger slake Shall hatefull harte be had in you that frendly did pretende Shall slipper thought and faithe vntrue that harte of yours defende Shall nature shewe your beautie faire that gentle semes to bee Shall frowardnesse your fancies heire be of more force then she Shall now disdaine the dragg of death directe and leade the waie Shall all the imps vpon the yearth reioyce at my decaie Shall this the seruice of my youth haue suche reward at laste Shall I receiue rigour of ruthe and be from fauour caste Shall I therefore berent my heares with wights that wishe to dye Or shall I bathe my self with teares to feede your fickle eye No no I shall in paine lye still with turtle Doue moste true And vowe my self to witt and will their counsels to ensue Good Ladies all that Louers be and that to be pretende Giue place to witt let reason seme your enemie to defende Lest that you thinke as I haue thought your self to stroue in vaine And so to be in thraldome brought with me to suffer paine FINIS M. Hunnis No foe to a flatterer I Would it were not as I thinke I would it were not so I am not blinde although I winke I feele what winds doe blowe I knowe where crafte with smilyng cheare creps into boldned breaste I heare how fained speache speaks faire where hatred is possesse I see the Serpent lye and lurcke vnder the greene alowe I see hym watche a tyme to worke his poyson to bestowe In frendly lookes suche fraude is founde as faithe for feare is fled And frendship hath receiude suche wounde as he is almoste ded And hatefull harte with malice greate so boiles in cankred mynde That flatterie flearyng in the 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 proofe I trye Though secret spight by crafte hath made a coate of Panter skin And thinks to finde me in the shade by sleight to wrapp me in Yet God bee praised my eye is cleare and can beholde the Sunne When falshood dare not once appeare to ende that he begunne Thus tyme shall trie the thyng amisse whiche God saue shortly sende And tourne the harte that fained is to bee a faithfull frende FINIS M. Hunnis His comparison of Loue. THe Spider with greate skill doeth trauell daie by daie His lymmes no tyme lye still to set his house in state And when he hath it wrought thinkyng therein to raigne A blaste of winde vnthought doeth driue it doune againe The proofe whereof is true to make his worke indure He paines hym self a newe in hope to dwell more sure And in some secret place a corner of a wall He frameth hym self a pace to builde and rest

withall His pleasure sweete to staie when he to rest is bent An vgly shamble Flee approcheth to his tent And htere entendes by force 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 endlesse paine vnknowne So suche as Louers bee like trauell doe attaine Those endlesse works ye see are alwaies full of paine FINIS M. Hunnis A Louers ioye I Haue no ioye but dreame of ioye and ioye to thinke on ioye A ioye I withstoode for to enioye to finishe myne annoye I hate not without cause alas yet Loue I knowe not why I thought to hate I can not hate although that I should dye A foe moste sweete a frende moste sower I ioye for to embrace I hate the wrong and not the wight that workt my wofull case What thyng it is I knowe not I but yet a thyng there is That in my fancie still perswads there is no other blisse The ioyes of life the pangs of death it make me feele eche daie But life nor death this humour can deuise to weare awaie Faine would I dye but yet in death no hope I see remaines And shall I liue since life I see a course of sorie paines What is it then that I doe seeke what ioye would I aspire A thyng that is deuine belike to high for mans desire FINIS F. K. Euill to hym that euill thinketh THe subtill stilie sleghts that worldly men doe woorke The friendly showes vnder whose shade moste craft doeth often lurke Enforceth me alas with yernfull voyce to saie Wo worthe the wilie heads that seeks the simple mans decaie The birde that dreads no guile is sonest caught in snare Eche gentle harte deuoide of crafte is sonest brought to care Good nature sonest trapt whiche giues me cause to saie Wo worthe the wilie heads that seeks the simple mans decaie I see the Serpent vile that lurkes vnder the grene How subtilly he shroods hym self that he maie not be sene And yet his fosters bane his leryng lookes bewraie Wo worthe the wilie heads that leeks the simple mans decaie Wo worthe the feinyng looks on fauour that we doe waite Wo worthe the feined frendly harte that harbours deepe deceite Wo worthe the Vipers broode oh thrise wo worthe I saie All worldlie wilie heads that seeks the simple mans decaie FINIS M. Edwardes He assureth his constancie WIth painted speache I list not proue my cunnyng for to trie Nor yet will vse to fill my penne with gilefull flatterie With pen in hand hart in brest shall faithful promise make To loue you beste and serue you moste by your greate vertuts sake And sure dame Nature hath you deckt with gifts aboue the reste Let not Disdaine a harbour finde within your noble breste For Loue hath lead his lawe alike to men of eche degrre So that the Begger with the Prince shall Loue as well as he I am no Prince I muste confesse nor yet of Princes line Nor yet a brutishe Begger borne that feeds emong the Swine The fruite shall trie the Tree at laste 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 woorde or deede let Lightnyng Thunder fall And Furies fell with franticke fi●ts bereue and stay my breathe For an example to the reste if I shall breake my faithe FINIS M. Hunnis Complainyng his mishapp to his frende he complaineth wittely A. THe fire shall freze the frost shall frie the frozen moūtains hie B. What straunge things hath dame natures force to turne her course awrie A. My Loue hath me left and taken a newe man B. This is not straunge it happes ofte tymes the truthe to scan 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 this not straunge B. light Loue will chaunge A. By skilfull meanes I here reclaime to stoope vnto my lure B. Suche haggard Haukes will soare awaie of them who can be sure A. With siluer bells and hoode my ioye was her to decke B. She was full gorgde 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 chirpyng lips should chirpe to me swete words of her desire B. Suche chirpyng birdes who euer sawe to preach still on one brire A. She saied she loued me beste and would not 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 choise 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 Sith slipper gaine falles to my lot farewell that glidyng praie B. Sith that the dice doeth runne awrie betymes leaue of thy plaie A. I will no more lamente 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 FINIS M. Edwardes No paines comparable to his attempt LIke as the dolefull Doue delights alone to bee And doeth refuse the bloumed branche chusyng the leaflesse tree Whereon wailyng his chaunce with bitter teares besprent Doeth with his bill his tender breaste ofte pearse and all to rent Whose greeuous gronyngs tho whose grips of pinyng paine Whose gastly lookes whose bloudie streams out flowyng frō ech vain Whose fallyng from the tree whose pantyng on the grounde Examples bee of myne estate tho there appere no wounde FINIS W. Hunnis He repenteth his follie A Lacke when I looke backe vpon my youth thatz paste And deepely pouder youthes offence and youths reward at laste With sighes and teares I saie O God I not denie My youth with follie hath deserued with follie for to die But yet if euer synfull man might mercie moue to ruthe Good Lorde with mercie doe forgiue the follies of my youthe In youth I rangde the feelds where vices all did growe In youth alas I wanted grace suche vise to ouerthrowe In youth what I thought swéete moste bitter now do finde Thus hath the follies of my youth