neuer can haue â—nd It is the Throne ofhigh 〈◊〉 sweete The God of power of glorie and of grace Where vertue dweâ—s and her adherents meete In ioyful feare to see his heauenly face Where holy saints and higheâ—â— Angels sing An Alleluia to their heauenly King There is the day and there is neueâ— night There euer ioy and there is neuer sorrow There neuer wrong buâ— there is euer right There eueâ— haue and neuer need to borrow There euer loue and there is neuer hate Neuer but there was euer such a state There all the graces doe agree in one There liueth brethren in one â—inke of loue There all the saints doe ferue one King alone Who giues the blis of highest hearts behoue There is the place of perfect paradice Where conscience liues and comfort neuer dieâ— There is the Sun the beautie of the skie The Moone and Starres the candles of the night Thâ—re is the essence of that heaâ—enly eye That blinds the proud and giues the humble light There is the rainâ—bow bended by his hand Who doth both heauen earth seâ— hel coÌ„mand There sitteth God in glorie of hiâ— throne With Virgins saints and Angels all attended Who in his â—re hath Kingdomes ouerthrowen And in his loue hath little things defended Whose glorie more then may by man be knowen And glorie most is in his mercy showen There doth he sit in highest of his power Calling the poore vnto his â—ich reliefe Sowing the sweete that killeth euerie sower Giuing the salue that healeth euery griefe Makieg them liue that loâ—g were dead before And liuing â—o that they can die no more By him alone the dumbe doe speake agâ—ine Oâ— him alone the blinde receiue their seeing With him alone is pleasure without pain In him alone haue blessed hearts their beeing To him alone and onely but vnto him All glorie due that al the world may doe hiâ— Now haue I writ though far beneath the worth Of highest Hâ—auen what happie hart conceiuetâ— Now wil I trie in order to set forth Direction such â—s neuer hope deceiueth How care may climbe the hill of happines Where is the heauen of highest blessednesse Grace is the groâ—â—d of euery good that is The ground once good how can the work be ill Then that the minde may not be lead amisse Beseech the helpe of his most blessed will Whose onely word â—â—ts downe the paâ—â—age beâ—â— Of humble soules â—o their deâ—iâ—ed â—est Begin to leaue and make an end to loue Such wanton thoughts as wofull sorrow giue Be once resolu'd and neuer doe remoue To liue to die as thou mayst die to liâ—â— Which hell to hate and seeke for heauenly bliâ— Read of the world and tell me what it is The world in â—rueth is bâ—â—â— wofâ—ll vale Where griefe for grasse and siâ—nes doe grow for feed Where substance sence and sâ—ules are set to sale While hoorders heape that naked people need And for the gaine but of a simple groat One man wil seeke to cut anothers throate What is theâ—e here that can conâ—ent the hart That knowes content or what it doth containe What thought so sweeâ— but brings as sower a smart What pleasure such but breeds a greater paine What thing so good but prooues in fine so euill As but for God would beaâ—e men to the deuill What is the earth the labour of the life What is the sea a gulfe of grislie lakes Whâ—t is the ayre a stuffe of filthie strife What is the fire the spoyle of that it takes Since these are al whence euerie thing doth spring What is the world buâ— euen a woful thing What thing is man a clod of mirie clay Slime of the earth a slaue to filthie sinne Springs like a weed and so doth weare away Goes to the earth where first he did begin Thinke with thy selfe when thou thy selfe art sucâ— What is in man that man should be so much What hath the world to leade thy minde to loue In true effect a fardle full of toyes For wey the pith what euerie man doth prooue The perfect Gems are most vnperfect ioyes Consider all what fancie bringeth forth The best conceit will fall out nothing worth What worldlie thinges doe follow fancie most Wealâ—h beautie loue fine diet honour fame What finds affâ—ct both loue and labour lost Dâ—sdaiâ—e disease dishonour death and shame Where care and sorrow death and deadâ—ie strife Doo rule the roste in this accursed life What thing is beautie a colour puâ—cklie gone And what is wealth when riches fall to rust What thing is loue a toy to thinke vpon Fine diet drosse to feede a filthie lust What worldlie honor oft vnworthie praise What ease the cause whereby the life decayes What is disdaine the scorne of proud conceit And what disease the death of discontent Dishonor next the fruit of fond deceit And what is death the end of ill intent Now what is shame a shamefull thing to tel What is the world but wickeds way to hel For beasts for birds for fishes flowers and trees And all such thinges created for our vse What thing is man to take such things as these By want of grace to turne vnto abuse Oh wretched world when man that shuld be best In beastly thingâ— proouâ—s worse then all the rest Thus haue I shew'd the world and whâ—t is A wicked place and ful of wretched woes A sincke of sinne shut out from heauenly blis Where lacke of grace doth wit and râ—ason loose So vile a thing as who in kinde doth prooue it Will soone confesse he hath no cause to loue it Now how to leaue this loath some life of outs The hâ—tefull hel the ground of euerie griefe Implore the helpe of those assured powers Who neuer faile the faithfull soule reliefe Lay by these thoughts that are to be abhord And set thy heart vpon the heauenlie Lord. First know thy God and what a God he is Without beginning and can haue no end Who in his loue created onely his And by his hand doth eueâ— his defend Whose glorious essence of his excellence Makes highest powers to tremble at his presence He made the world and what it doth containe Onely but man he made vnto his loue And mans good will was his desired gaine Till proud attempt did high displeasure mooue He plagu'd his pride yet when he saw his paine He gaue the salue that heald the wound againe He gaue the rules to guide the soule aright VVhat it should doe and what it should not doe He shew'd the suâ—me of his desires delight And what the heart should set it selfe vntoo And in tâ—e good of his most gracious will He shew'd the good that healed euerie ill He gaue the sunne the moone and starres a course That they obserue according to his will He makes the tides to take their due recourse And sets the earth where it doth settle stilâ— He made the substance of each element And sets his foote vpon the firmament He giues vs
hath his course and vertue her intent H Honor her selfe when other fancies dies A A wonder lasts but onely for a day R Reason regards but honors worthines I In vertues loue can honor not decay N Nothing but heauen is perfect happines R Rare is the eye that neuer lookes awry A And sweet the thought that neuer â—ounds amis T True is the heart that guideth such an â—ye C Careful the minde where such discretion is L Long is the life where loue doth draw the line I Ioyfull the hope that such a heart vpholdeth T Time is the threed no fancie can vntwine F Faire is the hap that such a face beholdeth Finis Another C CVrtesie carries all the world to loue A Affection serues where vertue fauour giues N Neere to the heauens of highest hearts behoue D Deer is the thought whereby discretion liues I Ioy of the eye and Iewel of the heart S Saint of the shape that seruice doth adore H High of the honor of Mineruaes art E Except exrepted but one there is no more Finis Another S SWeet is the flower that neuer fadeth hue V Vnmatcht the mind that neuer means amis T Tresure the heart thaâ— cannot prooue vntrue H High such a saint in whom such honor is W Where such a flower as faire as sweet doth spring E Except but one behold the onely ground L Loue such a ground a Garden for a King L Looke in the world the like is hardly found Finis A pretie Poeâ—e A Trembling hand but not a traitors hearâ— Writing for feare and fearing for to write Loath to reueale yet willing to impart Such secret thoughts as â—it not euery sighâ— Must leaue to you in sweet conceit to know â—heâ— For I haue sworne that I will neuer shew them I know not what but sure the griefe is greene I know not when but once it was not euer I know not how but secretly vnseene And make no care if it be ended neuer And yet a wound that wastes me all with woe And yet I would not that it were not so But oh sweete God what doe theâ—e humoâ—s moue Alas I feare God shield it be not loue Finis A Louer in despaire BVrne burne desi e while thy poore fuel lasteth Young wood enflam'd doth yeeld the brauest fire Though long before in smothering heat it wasteth With froward will to conquer his desire But fire supprest once breaking into flame Doth rage till all be wasted in the same Most tyrannous and cruel element So to Enuie the Substance of thy life As to consume thy vital nourishment Till death it selfe doe end this mortal strife Yet worke thy wil on me O raging fire And leaâ—e no coales to kindle new desire Ne let the glowing heat of asheâ— left Yeeld to my fainting sences fresh reliefe But as my soule from comfort thou hast reâ—t So end my life in this consuming griefet For wel I see nor wit nor wil now serueth To recompence desire as he deserueth Finis A Dreame of the arraâ—gnement oâ— Desirâ— A Court was lately kept in secret of conceit To cal desire vnto his death or cleare â—im of deceit â—ayre Beautie was the Queene and loue was all her Lawes Who had appoynted perâ—em sence to sit vpon the cause The wretches that accus'd desire of ill desart Where Enuie packt with Iniurie to kil a careful heart The whole Inditemen read against desire was this That where he most auowed best he ment not least amis The Lawyers that did plead against this poore desire Where wicked wit with eloquence whom hate and wrong did hire But to defend desire was plaine simplicitie Who knew the bounds and kept the bonds of perfect amitie A grand Inquest in haste was panneld by the Court. Of whom Tom-troth was foreman made and so begun the sport Suspect did halfe affirme that witnes should not neede And yet selfe-will would faine haue sworne that al was true indeed But reason wild regard the treason should be tryed And deepe conceit should be the man that should the trueth decide Suspect in Natures sence layd shrewdly to his charge But care had brideled Natures course loue neuer liu'd at large And conscience plaine replyed in reasons secrete thought That good wines need no Iuie-bush and eloquence is naught â—o sound the depth of all did sences all assemble And poore goodwill came swearing in that loue could not dissemble When patience fully heard the pleading of the case She call'd to reason to reueale who had deserud diâ—grace Good-wil was earnest still and â—ware that liue or die Suspect did sore abuse desire for louers could noâ— lie With that the people laught and reason chargd Tom-troth To giue vp vnto perfect â—ence the verdict of his oath The Iurors were the thoughts that did posse the minde Where flatterie was but fancies foole while faith did fauour finde Who when they had at ful considered of the cause Gaue Enuiâ— vp for enimie to loue and al his lawes And wit was but a foole to follow false suspect And eloquence was little worth to carrie such effect And hate and Enuie both were had in great disgrace And eloquence for taking parte was hissed out of place And sweet desire was cleare in Reasons secret sence And perfect sence gaue iudgement so and quit him of offence And beautie that before was thought did quite disdaine him Did graunt him fauour by desert and loue did entertaine him Suspect to silence put good Nature gâ—n to smile To heare them iudge to loues disdaine that would desire beguile And sweet desire the force of enuies ouerthrow And therewithal the Court brake vp I awaked so Finis Brittons Diuinitie FRom worldly cares and wanton loues conceit Begun in griefe and ended in deceit I am coniur'd by hope of happie blis VVhere heauenly faith and highest fauour is To call my wits and all my thoughts together To write of heauen and of the high-way thither The holy spirit of eternall power Vouchsafe his grace to guide my soule aright That patient heart may finde the happie hower VVhen I may see the glorie of that sight That in conceit so fully may content me As nought on earth be able to torment me I aske no ayde of any earthly muse Far be my fancie from such fonde affect But in the heauen where highest Angels vse To sing the sweet of faithful loues effect Among those spirits of especiall grace I wish my soule might haue a â—itting place VVhere first the teares of true repentant hart VVith faithful hope may happy fauour moue And sighing sobs of sorroweâ— bitter smart May see the life of vndeserued loue Thence would I craue some excellence deuine To set my foote in this discourse of mine To iudge of heauen it is a place of ioy VVhere happy soules haue their eternall rest VVhere sweet delights doe suffer no annoy But all things good and onely on the best Where comfotts moer then â—an can comprehend And such contents as
WEare happie I as others are Then might I liue as others doe But fortune giues a sundrie share And more to one then others too The mind doth yet content it selfe What euer fortune doe befall And makes no count of cankred pelfe Nor cares for any care at all For health it is the gift of God And giue him thankts and so haue done And want of wealth a heauenly rod To punish natures eldest sonne Is freinds doe frowne then farewel they This worldlie loue wil neuer last And if it be a rainie day The sunne wil shine when storme is past If troubles come a thwart thy minde Why t is a rule there is no rest And he that seekes and cannot finde Must take a little for a feast If Ladies loue then laugh for ioy And if they doe not farewell loue If thou be lost t is but a toy And if it hold it will not mooue Faire bâ—aâ—tie soone will fade a way And riches qâ—icklie fall to rust Thy youthfull yeares will soone decay And age will soone giue ouer lust The greatest horse is but a beast The highest Hâ—wk is but a bird The sweetest bâ—nquet but a feast The brauest man is but his word To promise much doth please thâ— eare Bâ—t to performe contents the heart And where performance commeth there A vowed loue can neuer parte But they that haue the world at will And shrinketh at a shower of raine May hâ—p to wish and want there will Vnles their hands haue greater gaine But hap what will my heart is sette I am resolu'd of this conceit If by desert I cannot get I loath to liue vpon deceit For stayed minde is of that state As euerie fortune cannot finde For hope nor feare nor loue nor hate Can euer change an honest minde â—ut either die in secrete griefe Wheâ—e care shall euer be conceald Then send abroad to seeke reliefe And haue a hurt vnkindely heald And onely trust in God on high For in the world there is no friend And loath to liue and long to die And know the world shâ—ll haue an end But if I die and you doe mis The sweet conâ—ention might command Then thinke but what a death it is To want dâ—sert without demand And thinke vpon tâ—â— nights and dayes When beatâ—n braines and broken heart Did râ—adie serue at al assayes For to discharge an honest part And if that you doe hap to neede As other men doe now and than Thinke wâ—en that vertue stood in steede I. R. was a right honest man The time draweth on I heare the bell That calleth for death my dearest friend But liue or die I wish you well Though your vnkindnes were my end Finis A Poeme vpon this word trueth IN trueth is trust distrust not then my trueth Let vertue liue I aske no greater loue Of such regard repentance not ensueth And hope of heauen doth highest power prooue In trueth somtime it was a sweete conceit To see how loue and life did dwell together But now in trueth there is so much deceit That trueth in deede is gone I know not whither Yer liueth trueth and hath her secret loue And loue in trueth deserues to be regarded And loues regard in reason doth appeare Approued trueth can neuet be discharged Then try me first and if that true you proue me In trueth you wrong me if you doe not loue me Finis A Poeme vpon the word sweet SWeet is the life that is the sweet of loue â—weet is the loue that is the sweet of life Sower the conceit that doth vnkindenes mooue But kinde the sweete that endeth such a strife Then for the sweet of sweetest louers vaine Sweet if thou louest me sweetlie come againe Oh sweet and sweet where nothing is but sweet Sweet be thy motions and sweeter be thy minde Which shewâ—◠〈◊〉 sweet where sweet affections meet In sweet content that cannot prooue vnkinde Then sweetest hart that to this humor moouest me Sweete come againe that I may see thou louest me Sweet I began and so with sweet I end There is no sweet vnto the sweet of loue Nor loue so sweet as in so sweet a friend Which shewes the sweet no sowernesse can remooue Let thaâ— sweet thought vnto this sweetnesse mooue thee Sweet come againe for by my sweet I loue thee Finis A Louer finding â—is loue vnconstant maketh his lact farewell NO faith on earth sweet fancie then aduâ— No fancie firme why then there is no friend No friend but fained what vice will then ensue Since trust doth prooue bâ—t treason in the end Farewell false loue thy tryall is not iust No faith on earth there is no friend to trust Fancie farewell which I haue loued so And farewell loue that makes me loath my life And life adue which bred me all my woe And farewel woe the forger of all strife And spite adue which breedeth all contempt Contempt adue whose mischiefe I repent And thus I end repenting still my life Crauing for death to make a speedie end To rid me soone from all this cursed strife And ease my heart which sorrow still doth rend With some contempt to shoulder off my paine Whose faith still stands in spite of all disdaine Finis A Poeme LOue makes me loath my life Yet doe I liue by loue This life brings death and death brings life Both these and that I prooue I sigh and sing for ioy I laugh in paine to lie Thus moane workes mirth and mirth weaues woe Twixt both I liue and die My colour shewes my care My care doth worke my paine My paine my griefe my griefe my death My death mine endles gaine In vaine is beauties blaze If beautie want her meede The blossome fruit the fruit his flower The flower wil haue his seed My youth doth shew my yeares My yeares should shew my ioy I haste to wed I haue no will I stoope yet am I coy Though outward face doth shew Mine inward heart not payn'd Yet doth mine inward hart well know Mine outward face is fayn'd I fast I pray I play What diet can I prooue But ah I see the ripest wittes Are soonest thrall to loue Sith so it is I sigh And to my selfe I sing Heygho my hart heigho alas Loue is a cruell thing Finis The moane of a Louer in despaire GOe paper all be blurd be blurd with bootles teares in vaine Goe tell goe tell the heauie newes Of my consuming paine Goe tell goe tell vnto my friends But if they aâ—ke thee why Let this suffice it is enough I am reâ—olâ—â—d to die My head can take â—o qâ—iet rest Mine eyes receiâ—e no sigâ—ht My mouth no taste my nose no sâ—ell Mine eares heare no delight My silly panting heart doth faynt but if they aske thee why Let tâ—is suffice it is enough I am resolu'd to die My feeble hanâ—s with-hold their helpe mâ— feete doe let me fall My tâ—â—gue caâ— harbor no delight to comfort me at all My wit and sences
beene seene Dead men brought to life againe The complaint of a â—orsaken Louer Let me goe seeke some solitarie place In craggie rocks where comfort is vnknowne Where I may sit and waile my heauie case And make the heauens acquainted with my mone Where onelie Eccho with her hallow voyce May â—ound the sorrow of my hidden sence And cruel chance the crosse of sweetest choyse Doth breed the paine of this experience In mourning thoughts let me my minde attire And clad my care in weedes ofdeadlie woe And make disgrace the graue of my desire Which tooke his death wh ereby his life did growe And ere I die engraue vpon my tombe Take heede of Loue for this is Loâ—ers doome A pretie fancie WHo takes a friend and trusts him not Who hopes of good and hath it not Who hath a Item and keepes it not Who keepes a Ioy and loues it not The first wants wit the second will Carelesse the third the fourth doth ill An Epitaph on the death of a noble Gentleman SOrrow come siâ— thee downe and sigh and sob thy fill And let these bleeding bitter teareâ— be witnesse of thine ill See see how Vertue siâ—s what passions she doth prooue To thinke vpon the losse oâ— him that was her dearest loue Come Pallâ—â— carefull Qâ—eene let all thy Muses waite About the graue where buried is the grace of your conceit Poets lay downe your pennes or if you needs will write Confesse the onely day of loue hath lost her dawning light And you that know the Court ank what beseemes the place With griefe engraue vpoÌ„ his tombe he gaue al Courts a grace And you that keepe the fields and know what valure is Say all too soone was seene in this vntimelie death of his Oh that he liu'd in earth that could but halfe conceiue The honour that his rarest heart was worthie â—o receiue Whose wisdome farre aboue the rule of Natures teach Whose workes are extant to the world that al the world may teach Whose wit the wonder-stone that did true wisdome tuch And such a sounder of conceipt as few or neuer such Whose vertue did exceed in Natures highest vaine Whose life a â—anthorne of the loue that surelie liues againe Whose friendship faith so fast as nothing could remooue him Whose honourable curtesie made all the world to loue him What Language but he spake what rule but he had read What thought so high what sence so deep but he had in his head A Phoenix of rhe world whom fame doth thus commend Vertue is life Valâ—r his loue and Honour was his end Vpon whose toâ—be be writ that may with teares be red Heere lies the flower of chiualrie that euer England bred Oh heauens vpon the earth was neuer such a day That all conceiâ—s of all contents should al consume away Me thinkes I see a Queene come couered with a vaile The Court al stricken in a dumpe the Ladies weepe waile The Knights in careful sighes bewaile their secret losse And he that best coÌ„ceales his griefe bewraies he hath a crosse Come Scholers bring your bookes let reason haue his right Doe reuerence vnto the câ—rse in hâ—nour of the Knight Come souldiâ—rs see the Knight that leâ—t his life so nâ—ere ye Giue him a volley oâ— your harts that al the 〈◊〉 mâ—y â—â—are ye And ye that liue at â—ome and passe your time in pâ—â—câ— To helpe ye sing his â—oleâ—ull dirge let sorrow neuer câ—ase Oh could I mourne enough that aâ—l the world may see The griefe of loue for such a lâ—sse as greater câ—nnot bee Our Court hath lost a fâ—â—end ouâ— Countrie such a Knight As with the toâ—mâ—â—t oâ— the thought hath turned day to night A man so rare a man did neuer England breed â—o excellent in euerie thing that all men did exceed So full of all effects that wit and sence may sâ—an As in his heart did want no part to make a perfect man Perfection farre aboue the rule of humâ—ine sence Whose heart was onely set on heauen and had his honor thence Whose maâ—ke of hiest aime was honor of the minde Who both â—t once did worldlie â—ame and heauenlie fauour find Whom vertue so did loue and learning so adore As commendations of a man was neuer man had more Whom wise men did admire whom good men did affect Whom honest men did loue and serue and all men did reâ—pect VVhose care his Countriâ—s loue whose loue his Countries care Whose careful loue considered wel his Countrie could not spare Oh Christ what ruthâ—ull cries about the world doe ring And to behold the heaâ—ie sighs it is a hellish thing The campe the dolefull campe comes home with all a Mort To see the Captaine of thâ—ir â—are come home in such a sort The Court the solemnâ— Câ—uâ—t is in a sudden trance And what is â—e but is amazde to heare of this mischance Tâ—e Cittie shakâ—s 〈◊〉 head as it had lost a piller And kind affect is in such care a little more would kill her 〈◊〉 Oxford sits and weâ—pes and Cambridge cries outright To loose the honour oâ— their loue and loue of their delight The Cleargie singing Psalmes with teares beblot â—heir booke And all the schollers follow on with sad and heauie lookes The Muses and the Nimphes attired all in blacke With teaâ—ing â—eares wringing hands as if their hearts would cracke The father wife and friends and seruants in degrees 〈◊〉 blubbred eyes bewaile the life that faithfull loue did leese My selfe that lou'd him more then he that knew him much VVil leaue the honour ofhis worth for better wits to tutch And said but what I thiâ—ke and that a number know He was a Phoenix of a man I feare there are no moe To set him downe in praise with men of passed fame Let this suffice who more deseru'd I neuer read his name For this he was in right in briefe to shew his praise For Vertue Learning Valor VVit the honour of our dayes And so with honor ende let all the world goe seeke So young a man so rare a man the world hath not the like VVhose onelie corps consumes whose Vertue neuer dies VVhose sweetest soule enioyes the sweet ofhighest Paradice The sum of the former in foure lines GRace Vertue Valor VVit Experience Learning Loue Art Reason Time Conceite Deuise Discretion Trueth All these in one and but one onely prooue Sorrow in age to see the end of youth In the praise of his Mistresse POets lay downe your pennes let fancie leaue to faine Bid al the Muses goe to bed or get a better vaine There musicks are to base to sound that sweet consaite That on the wonder of the world with wonder may awaite But if as yet vâ—knowne there be some daintie Muse That can doe more then al the rest and will her cunning vse Let her come whet her wits to see what she can doe To that the best that euer wrote came neuer neere vntoo For Venus vvas a toy and onely feigned fable And Cresed but a Chawcers â—east and Helen but a bable My tale shal be of trueth that neuer treason taught My Mistresse is the onelie svveet that euer Nature vvrought Whose eyes are like those starres that keepe the highest skies Whose beautie like the burning Sunne that blinds the clearest eies Whose haires are like those beames that hang about the Sunne When in the morning forth he steps before his course be runne And let me touch those lips by loue by leaue or lucke When sweet affect by sweet aspect may yet some fauour sucke They are those little foldes of Natures finest wit That she sat smoothing while she wrought wil be smacking yet And for that purest red with that most perfect white That makes those cheeks the sweetest chains of louers high delite What may be sayd but this Behold the onely feature That al the world that sees the face may woÌ„der at the creature I wil not stand to muse as many writers doe â—o seeke our Natures finest stuffe to like her lims vntoo Foe if thou wert on earth that could in part compare With euerie part of euerie part wherin her praises are Either for Natures gifts or Vertues sweetest grace I would confesse a blinded heart were in vnhappie case But what doth Nature Sence and Reason doth approue She is the onely saint on earth whom God and man doth louâ— Let this in summe suffice for my poore Muse and mee She is the Goddesse of the earth and there is none but shee FINIS