will I loue though she be coye H. A foole hym self will still anoye M. Who will not die for suche a one H. Be wise at length let her alone M. I can not doe so H. then be thy owne foe M. Alas I die H. what remedie Finis E. S. ¶ 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 anoye I hate not without cause alas yet loue I knowe not why I thought to hate I can not hate although that I should die A foe moste swete 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 sourse of sorie paines What is it then that I doe seke what ioye would I aspire A thyng that is deuine belike to high for mans desire Finis FK ¶ The iudgement of desire THe liuely Larke did stretche her wyng The messenger of mornyng bright And with her cherefull voyce did syng The daies approche dischargyng night When that Aurora blushyng redd Discride the gilt of Thetis bedd Laradon tan tan Tedriton teight I went abroad to take the aire And in the meadds I mett a knight Clad in carnation colour faire I did salute the youthfull wight Of hym I did his name enquire He sight and saied I am desire Laradon tan tan Tedriton teight Desire I did desire to staie A while with hym I craued talke The courteous wight saied me no naie But hande in hande with me did walke Then in desire I askte againe What thing did please and what did pain Laradon tan tan He smild and thus he answered me Desire can haue no greater paine Then for to see an other man The thyng desired to obtaine No ioye no greater to then this Then to inioye what others misse Laridon tan tan Finis E. O. ¶ The complaint of a louer wearyng Blacke and Tawnie. A Croune of Bayes shall that man weare That triumphs ouer me For blacke and Tawnie will I weare Whiche mournyng colours be The more I folowed on the more she fled awaie As Daphne did full long agone Apollos wishfull praie The more my plaints resounde the lesse she pities me The more I saught the lesse I founde that myne she ment to be Melpomeney alas with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng bis wo worthe on me â–ª forsaken man Then Daphnes baies shal that man weare that triumphs ouer me For Blacke Taunie will I weare which monrnyng colours be Droune me you tricklyng teares you wailefull wights of woe Come help these haÌ„ds to reÌ„t my heares my rufull happs to showe On whom the scorchyng flames of loue doeth feede you se Ah a lalalantida my deare dame hath thus tormented me Wherefore you Muses nine with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng Bis wo worthe on me forsaken man Then Daphnes Baies shall that man weare that triumps euer me For Blacke Taunie will I weare which mourning colours be An Ancres life to leade with nailes to scratche my graue Where earthly Wormes on me shall fede is all the ioyes I craue And hid my self from shame sith that myne eyes doe see Ah a alantida my deare dame hath thus tormented me And all that present be with dolefull tunes helpe than And syng Bis woe worthe on me forsaken man. Finis E.O. ¶ He complaineth thus LO heare the man that must of loue complaine Lo heare that seas that feeles no kinde of blisse Lo here I seke for ioye and finde but paine Lo what despite can greater be then this To freze to death and stande yet by the fire And she that shonneth me moste I doe desire L. But shall I speake alas or shall I die A. By death no helpe in speache some helpe doeth lie L. Then from that breast remoue a Marble minde A. As I see cause so are ye like to finde L. I yelde my self what would you more of me A. You yelde but for to winne and conquer me L. Saâ—e and kill not madame A. Forsake your sute for shame No no no no not so O happie man now vaunt thy self That hath this conquest gainde And now doeth liue in greate delight That was so lately painde Triumph triumph triumph wholouers be Thrise happie is that woyng That is not long a doyng Triumph triumph triumph that hath like victorie Finis ¶ Findyng no relief he complaineth thus IN quest of my relief I finde distresse In recompence of loue moste depe disdaine My langour is suche words maie not expresse A shower of teares my watrishe eye doeth raine I dreame of this and doe deuine of wo I wander in the thoughts of my swete fo I would no peace the cause of warre I flie I hope I feare I burne I chill in froste I lye alowe yet mounts my minde on hie Thus doubtfull stormes my troubled thoughts haue toste And for my paine this pleasure doe I proue I hate my self and pine in others loue The worlde I graspe yet holde I nought at all At libertie I seme in prison pent I taste the sweete more lower then bitter gall My shipp semes sounde and yet her ribbs be rent And out alas on Fortune false I crie Looke what I craue that still she doeth denie Bothe life and death be equall vnto me I doe desire to die yet craue I life My witts with sondrie thoughts doe disagre My self am with my self at mortall strife As warmth of sonne doeth melte the siluer Snowe The heate of loue beholde consumes me so Finis R.H. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth VVHat dome is this I faine would knowe That demeth all by contraries What God or whether height or lowe Now would I learne some warrantise Some saie the blinded God aboue Is he that woorketh all by loue But he that stirreth strife the truthe to tell I alwaies feele but knowe not well Some saie Alecto with her mates Are thei whiche breedeth all anoye Who sitts like Haggs in hellishe gates And seeks still whom thei maie destroye Some saie againe t is destinie But how it comes or what it is I let it passe before I misse Despite doeth alwaies worke my wo And happ as yet holds hardly still For feare I set my frendshipp so And thinke againe to reape good will. I doe but striue against the winde For more I seeke the lesse I finde And where I seeke moste for to please There finde I alwaies my desease And thus I loue and doe reape still Nothyng but hate for my good will. Finis L. V. A louer disdained complaineth IF euer man had loue to
they doe once begin It teacheth vs to frame our life while vitall breth we haue When it dissolueth earthly masse the soule from death to saue By feare of God to rule our steppes from sliding into vice A wisedome is which we neglect although of greater price A poynt of wisedome also this we commonly esteeme That euery man should be in deede that he desires to seeme To bridle that desire of gaine which forceth vs to ill Our hawtie stomackes Lord represse to tame presuming will This is the wisedome that we should aboue eache thing desire O heauenly God from sacred throne that grace in vs inspire And print in our repugnant hearts the rules of wisedome true That all our deedes in worldly life may like thereof insue Thou onely art the liuing spring from whome this wisedome flowes O washe therewith our sinfull heartes from vice that therin growes Finis M. Edwardes 30 A frendly admonition YE stately wightes that liue in quiet rest Through worldly wealth which God hath giuen to you Lâ—ment with teares and sighes from dolefull brest The shame and power that vice obtaineth now Behold how God doth daily profer grace Yet we disdaine repentance to embrace The suddes of sinne doe sucke into the mind And cancred vice doth vertue quite expell No chaunge to good alasse can resting finde Our wicked hearts so stoutly doe rebell Not one there is that hasteth to amend Though God from heauen his daily threates doe send We are so slow to chaunge our blamefull life We are so prest to snatche aluring vice Such greedie hartes on euery side be rife So few that guide their will by counsell wise To set our teares lament the wretched case And call to God for vndeserued grace You worldly wightes that haue your fancies sixt On slipper ioy of terreine pleasure here Let some remorse in all your deedes be mixt Whiles you haue time let some redresse appere Of sodaine Death the houre you shall not know And looke for Death atthough it seemeth slow Oh be no iudge in other mens offence But purge thy selfe and seeke to make thee free Let euery one applie his diligence A chaunge to good with in him selfe to see O God direct our feete in such a stay From cancred vice to shame the hatefull way Finis R. Hill. 31. Sundrie men sundrie affectes IN euery wight some sondrie sort of pleasure I doe finde Which after he doth seeke to ease his toyling minde Diana with her training chase of hunting had delight Against the fearefull Deare shee could direct her shotte aright The loftie yeares in euery age doth still imbrace the â—ame The sport is good if vertue doe assist the chearefull game Minerua in her chattering armes her courage doth aduaunce In triall of the bloudie warres shee giueth luckie chaunce For sauegard men imbrace the same which doe so needefull seeme That noble heartes their cheefe delights in vse therof esteeme In warlike games to ride or trie the force of armes they vse And base the man we doe accompt that doth the same refuse The siluer sound of musickes cordes doth please Apollos wit A science which the heauens aduaunce where it deserues to sit A pleasure apt for euery wight releefe to carefull minde For woe redresse for care a salue for sadnesse helpe we finde The soueraigne praise of Musicke still doth cause the Poetes faine That whliring Spheres and eke the heauens do hecmonie retaine I heard that these three powers at variaunce lately fell Whiles eache did praise his owne delight the other to excell Then Fame as one indifferent iudge to ende the case they call The praise pronounced by her to them indifferently doth fall Diana health and strength maintaine Minerua force doth tame And Musicke geues sweete delight to further other game These three delightes to hawtie mindes the worthiest are estemed If vertue be anexed to them they rightly be so demed With ioy they doe releeue the witte with sorrow oft opprest And neuer suffer solempne greefe too long in minde to rest Be wise in mirth and seeke delight the same doe not abuse In honest mirth a happie ioy we ought not to refuse Finis R. Hill. 32. Time giues experience WE reade what paines the powers deuine Through wrath conceiued by some offence To mortall creatures they assigne Their due desartes for recompence What endlesse paine they must endure Which their offences did procure A Gripe doth Titius Liuer teare His greedie hungrie gorge to fill And Sisiphus must euer beare The rowling stone against the hill A number moe in hell be found Which thus to endlesse paine are bound Yet all the woe that they sustaine Is nothing to the paine of me Which cometh through the proude disdaine Of one that doth to loue repine Therefore I crie woe worth the houre Since first I fell in Venus power The gnawing gripes of irksome thought Consumes my heart with Titius griefe I also haue full vainly wrought With Sisiphus without reliefe Euen when I hope to ende my paine I must renue my sute againe Yet will I not seeme so vntrue To leaue a thing so late begone A better happe may yet insue The strongest towres in time be wonne In time therefore my trust I place Who must procure desired grace Finis R. H. 33 Of sufferance cometh ease TO seeme for to reuenge eache wrong in hastie wise By proofe we see of guiltlesse men it hath not bene thâ— guise In slaunders lothsome brute where they condemned bee With ragelesse moode they suffer wrong where truth shal trie theÌ„ free These are the patient panges that passe within the brest Of those that feele their cause by mine where wroÌ„g hath right opprest I know how by suspect I haue bene iudgd awrie And graunted gâ—ltie in the thing that cleerely I denie My faith may me defend if I might loued be God iudge me so as from the guilt I know me to be free I wrote but for my selfe the griefe was all mine owne As who would proue excremitie by proofe it might be knowne Yet are there suche that say they can my meaning deeme Without respect of this olde trothe things proue not as they seeme Whereby it may befall in iudgement to be quicke To make them selues suspect therewith that needed not to kicke Yet in resisting wrong I would not haue it thought I do amisse as though I knew by whome it might be wrought If any suche there be that heerewithall be vext It were their vertue to beware and deeme me better next Finis E. S. 34 Being trapped in Loue be complayneth THe hidden wees that swelleth in my hart Brings forth suche sighes as filles the aire with smoke Tâ—e golden beames thorow this his fierie dart Dâ—re not abide the answere of the stroke Which stroke although it dazed me some dele Yet nature taught my hand to worke his kinde Wherewith I taught to pull away the stele But to my paine it left my head behinde That fastned hath my
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
with sobbing voice besought the king of grace That he would licens hym with speede to depart out of that place And saied that he full long enough had tried now with feare What t is to be a happie man and princly rule to beare This deede of thyne oh Dionise deserues immortall fame This deede shall alwaies liue with praise though thou didst liue with shame Whereby bothe kyngs be put in minde their dangers to be great And subiects be forbid to clime high stepps of honours seate Finis 48. Fortitude A yong man of Aegipt and Valerian EChe one deserues great praise to haue but yet not like I think Bothe he that can sustain the yoke of paines doeth not shrink And he whom Cupids couert crafte can nothyng moue at all Into the harde and tangled knotts of Venus snares to fall Besturre you then who so delights in vertues race to ronne The fliyng boye with bowe ibent by strength to ouercome As one did once when he was yong and in his tender daies Whose stout and noble deede of his hath got immortall praise The wicked Romaines did pursue the sely Christians than What tyme Valerian Emperour was a wicked cruell man. Who spared not with bloudy draughts to quēche his owne desire Dispatchyng all that stucke to Christ with hotte consumyng fire At length a man of tender yeres was brought before his sight Suche one as Nature semed to make a witnesse of her might For euery parte so well was set that nothyng was depraued So that the cruell kyng hym self would gladly haue hym saued So loth he was to see a woorke so rare of Naturs power So finely built so sodainly destroied within an hower Then meanes he sought to ouercome or winne hym at the lest To slip from Christe whom he before had earnestly profest A bedde preparde so finely deckt suche diuers pleasaunt smels That well it might appeare a place where pleasure onely dwells By hym he laied a naked wenche a Venus darlyng sure With sugred speache louely toyes that might his minde allure Such wanton lewres as these he thought might eassy him entise Which things he knewe with lustie youth had alwaies been in prise Suche waies I thinke the Gods themselues could haue inuented none For flatteryng Venus ouercoms the senses euery chone And he hym self was euen at point to Venus to consent Had not his stout and manly mynde resisted his entent When he perceiued his fleshe to yelde to pleasures wanton toyes And was by sleight almoste prouoked to tast of Venus ioyes More cruell to hym self then those that glad would hym vndoo With bloudie tooth his tēder tong bote quite and cleane in twoo Thus was the paine so passyng greate of this his bloudie bitte That all the fire and carnall lust was quenched euery whitte Doe ill and all thy pleasures then full sone will passe awaie But yet the shame of those thy deedes will neuermore decaie Do well though thy paines be great yet sone eche one wil cease But yet the praise of those thy deedes will euermore increase Finis 49. iustice Zaleuch and his Sonne LEt rulers make most perfect lawes to rule both great smal If thei them selues obeye them not it boteth not at all As lawes be nought but rulers dome cōteining egall might So rulers should be speakyng lawes to rule by line of right Zaleuch the Prince of Locrine once appointed by decree Eche lecherer should be punished with losse of either eye His sonne by chaunce offended first whiche when his father sawe Lorde God how earnest then was he to execute the lawe Then ran the people all by flocks to hym with wepyng eyes Not one emong the rout therewas but pardon pardon cries By whose outcries and earnest sute his sonne in hope did stande That he thereby should then obtaine some pardon at his hande But all in vaine for he is founde to be the man he was And maketh hast so muche the more to haue the lawe to passe The people yet renued their sute in hope of some relief Whose faces all besprent with teares did testifie their grief And cried all for pities sake yelde now to our request If all you will not cleane remit yet ease the paine at lest Then somewhat was the father moued with all the peoples voice And euery man did giue a shoote to shewe thei did reioyce Well then quoth he it shal be thus the lawe shal be fufilde And yet my sonne shall fauour haue accordyng as you wilde One eye of his shal be pulde out thus hath his leudnesse got And likewise so shall one of myne though I deserue it not This worde no soner was pronoūcde but strait the deede was doen Twoo eyes no mo were left betwene the father and the sonne Saie now who can and on my faithe Apollo he shal be Was he more gentle father now or iuster Iudge trowe ye This man would not his lawes belike the webbs the spiders weue Wherein thei lurke when thei entende the simple to deceiue Wherewith small flies full sone be caught tangled ere thei wist When greate ones flie and scape awaie breake them as thei list Finis 50. Temperaunce Spurina and the Romaine Ladies IF nature beare thee so great loue the she in thee haue beautie plast Full harde it is as we doe proue to kepe the body cleane chast Twixt comelinesse and chastitie A deadly strife is thought to be For beautie whiche some men suppose to be as t were a golden ill Prouoketh strief and many foes that seke on her to worke her wil Assaults to tounes if many make No toune so strong but maie be take And this Spurina witnesse can who did for beautie beare the bell So cleane a wight so comly made no dame in Rome but loued wel Not one could cole her hote desire So burnyng was the flame of fire Like as when baite caste in the floud forthwith doeth cause the fishes come That pleasantly before did plaie now presently to death to runne For when thei see the baite to fall Straight waie thei swallowe hooke and all So when Spurina thei did see to hym thei flocked out of hande She happest dame was thought to be that in his fauour moste did stande Not knowyng vnder sweete deceits How Venus hids her poysoned baits But whē he sawe them thus to rage whom loue had linked in his chain This means he sought for to aswage these ladies of their greuous pain His shape intendyng to disgrace With many wounds he skotch his face By whiche his deede it came to passe that he that semed an angel bright Euen now so cleane disfigured was that he became a sothsom wight And rather had be foule and chast Then faire and filthie ioyes to tast What pen cā write or tōg expresse the worthy praises of this deede My think that God can do no lesse then graunt him heauen for his meede Who for to saue hym self vpright Hym self hath first destroyed
toyle the Seas Life ledd with losse of paines no lacke In stormes to winne muche restlesse case A bedlesse horde in seas vnrest Maie happ to hym that chaunseth best How sundrie sounds with lead and line Vnto the depe the shipman throwes No foote to spare he cries oft tymes No nere when how the master blowes If Neptune frown all be vndoen Strait waie the shipp the wrack hath won These daungers greate doe oft befall On those that there vpon the sande Iudge of their liues the best who shall How vile it is fewe vnderstande Alacke who then maie iudge their game Not thei whiche haue not felt the same But thei that fall in stormes and winde And daies and yeres haue spent therein Suche well may iudge since profe thei find In rage no rest till calme begin No more then those that loue doe faine Giue iudgement of true louers paine Finis W. H. No pleasure without some paine HOw can the tree but wast and wither awaie That hath not sometyme comfort of the Sonne How can that flower but fade and sone decaie That alwaies is with darke clouds ouer ronne Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knoweth no ioye at all What foodles beast can liue long in good plight Or is it life where sences there be none Or what auaileth eyes without their light Or els a tonge to hym that is alone Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knowes no ioye at all Whereto serue eares if that there be no sounde Or suche a head where no deuise doeth growe But all of plaints since sorrowe is the grounde Whereby the harte doeth pine in deadly woe Is this a life naie death you maie it call That feeles eche paine and knows no ioye at all Finis L. Vaux ¶ The fruites of fained frendes IN choise of frends what happy had I to chuse one of Cirenes kinde Whose harpe whose pipe whose melodie could feede my eares make me blinde Whose pleasant noise made me forget that in sure trust was great deceit In trust I see is treason founde and man to man deceitfull is And whereas Treasure doeth abounde of flatterers there doe not misse Whose painted speache and outward showe doe seme as frends and be not so Would I haue thought in thee to be the nature of the Crokadill Whiche if a man a slepe maie see with bloudy thirst desires to kill And then with teares a while gan wepe the death of hym thus slaine a slepe O flatterer false thou traitor borne what mischief more might thou deuise Then thy deare frende to haue in scorne and hym to wounde in sondrie wise Whiche still a frende pretends to be and art not so by profe I se Fie fie vpon suche trechery Finis W. H. Beyng importunate at the length he obtaineth A. SHall I no waie winne you to graunt my desire B. What woman will graunt you the thyng you require A. You onely to loue me is all that craue B. You onely to leaue me is all I would haue A. My deare alas now saie not so B. To loue you best I must saie no A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. The swifter I followe then you fly awaie B. Swift hauks in their fliyng oft times misse their pray A. Yet some killeth dedly that flie to the marke B. You shall touche no feather thereof take no carke A. Yet hope shall further my desire B. You blowe the coales and raise no fire A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. To loue is no daunger where true loue is ment B. I will loue no ranger lest that I repent A. My loue is no ranger I make God auow B. To trust your smoth saiyngs I sure knowe not how A. Moste truthe I meane as tyme shall well trie B. No truthe in men I oft espie A Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. Be shrewe me than A. Some women maie saie naie and meane loue moste true B. Some women can make fools of as wise men as you A. In tyme I shall catche you I knowe when and where B. I will sone dispatche you you shall not come there A. Some speds at length that oft haue mist B. I am well armed come when you list A. Yet will I not flitt B. then plaie on the bitt A. I will B. doe still A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. beshrewe me than A. Yet worke your kinde kindly graunt me loue for loue B. I will vse you frendly as I shall you proue A. Moste close you shall finde me I this doe protest B. Then sure you shall binde me to graunt your request A. O happie threde now haue I sponne B. You syng before the conquest wonne A. Why then will you swarne B. euen as you deserue A. Loue still B. I will A. yet kill not B. I will not A. Make me your man B. come to me than Finis M. B. ¶ Requiryng the fauour of his loue She aunswereth thus M. WHat death maie be compared to loue H. What grief therein now doest thou proue M. My paines alas who can expresse H. I see no cause of heauinesse M. My Ladies looks my wo hath wrought H. Then blame thyne eyes that first haue sought M. I burne alas and blowe the fire H. A foole consumes by his desire M. What shall I do than H come out and thou can H. Alas I die M. what remedie M. My sugred sweete is mixed with gall H. Thy Ladie can not doe with all M. The more I seeke the lesse I finde H. Then striue not with the streame and winde M. Her must I loue although I smarte H. With thy owne sworde thou slaiest thy harte M. Suche pleasaunt baites who can refraine H. Suche beats will sure brede the greate paine M. What shal I do than H. Come out and thou can H. Alas I die M. what remedie M. Her golden beames myne eyes doe daze H. Vpon the Sonne thou maiest not gaze M. She might reward my cruell smarte H. She thinks thou bearest a fained harte M. She laughs to heare my wofull cries H. Forsake her then in tyme be wise M. No no alas that maie not bee H. No wise man then will pitie thee M. What shall I do than H. come out and thou can M. Alas I die H. what remedie M. A liuyng death loe thus I proue H. Suche are the fruts of froward loue M. O that I might her loue once againe H. Thy gaine would not halfe quite the paine M. Her
loue and leaue is all that I entend And yf you prooue in part and finde my counsell true Then wyshe me well for my good wyll t is all I craue adewe Finis My lucke is losse The perfect tryall of a faythfull freend NOt stayed state but feeble stay Not costly robes but bare aray Not passed wealth but present want Not heaped store but sclender skant Not plenties purse but poore estate Not happy happe but froward fate Not wyshe at wyll but want of ioy Not harts good health but hartes annoy Not freedomes vse but prisons thrall Not costly seate but lowest fall Not weale I meane but wretched woe Dooth truely trye the freend from foe And nought but froward fortune proues Who fawning faines or simply loues Finis Yloop. No pleasure without some payne SWeete were the ioyes that both might like and last Strange were the state exempt from all distresse Happy the lyfe that no mishap should tast Blessed the chaunce might neuer change successe Were such a lyfe to leade or state to proue Who would not wyshe that such a lyfe were loue But O the sowry sauce of sweete vnsure When pleasures flye and flee with wast of winde The trustlesse traynes that hoping hartes allure When sweete delightes doo but allure the minde When care consumes and wastes the wretched wight Whyle fancy feedes and drawes of her delight What lyfe were loue yf loue were free from payne But O that payne with pleasure matcht should meete Why dyd the course of nature so ordayne That sugred sowre must sause the bitter sweete Which sowre from sweete might any meanes remoue What happe what heauen what lyfe were lyke to loue Finis E. S. 1. Our pleasures are vanities BEhold the blast which blowes the blossomes from the tree The end whereof consumes and comes to nought we see Ere thou therefore be blowen from life that may not last Begin for grace to call for time mispent and past Haue mind on brittle life whose pleasures are but vayne On death likewyse bethinke how thou maist not remaine And feare thy Lord to greene which sought thy soule to saue To synne no more be bent but mercie aske and haue For death who dooth not spare the kinges on earth to kill Shall reape also from thee thy pleasure life and will. That lyfe which yet remaynes and in thy brest appeares Hath sowne in thée sutch seedes you ought to weede with teares And life that shall succeede when death is worne and past Shall spring for euer then in ioy or paine to last Where death on life hath power ye see that life also Hath mowen the fruites of death which neuer more shall growe FINIS D. S. 2. M. Edwardes MAY. WHen MAY is in his prime then MAY eche hart reioyce When MAY bedeckes eche branch with greene eche bird streines forth his voyce The liuely sappe creepes vp into the bloming thorne The flowres which cold in prison kept now laughes the frost to scorne All natures Impes triumphes whyles ioyfull May dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasant time is past MAY makes the cherfull hue MAY breedes and bringes newe blood MAY marcheth throughout euery limme MAY makes the mery moode MAY pricketh tender hartes their warbling notes to tune Ful strange it is yet some wee see doo make their MAY in Iune Thus thinges are straungely wrought whyles ioyfull MAY doth last Take MAY in time when MAY is gone the pleasant time is past All ye that liue on earth and haue your MAY at wyll Reioyce in MAY as I doo now and vse your MAY with skill Vse MAY whyle that you may for MAY hath but his time When all the fruite is gone it is to late the tree to clime Your liking and your lust is freshe whyles MAY dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasaunt time is past Finis 3. Faire woordes make fooles faine IN youthfull yeeres when fyrst my young desyres began To pricke mee foorth to serue in Court a sclender tall young man. My Fathers blessing then I askt vpon my knee Who blessing me with trembling hand these woordes gan say to me My sonne God guide thy way and shielde thee from mischaunce And make thy iust desartes in Court thy poore estate to aduaunce Yet when thou art become one of the Courtly trayne Thinke on this prouerbe olde qd he that faire woordes make fooles faine This counsell grauely geuen most strange appeares to me Tyll tract of time with open eyes had made me plainely see What subtill sleightes are wrought by painted tales deuise When hollowe hartes with freendly shoes the simple doo entise To thinke al golde that shines to feede their fonde desire Whose shiuering cold is warmd with smoke in stead of flaming fire Sith talke of tickle trust dooth breede a hope most vaine This prouerbe true by proofe I finde that faire woordes make fooles faine Faire speache alway doeth well where deedes insue faire woordes Faire speache againe alway dooth euil that busshes geues for birdes Who hopes to haue fayre woordes to trye his luckie lot If I may counsel let him strike it whyle the iron is hotte But them that feede on cloddes in steade of pleasaunt grapes And after warning often geuen for better lucke still gapes Full loth I am yet must I tell them in woordes plaine This prouerbe old proues true in them that faire words makes fooles faine Wo woorth the time that woordes so slowly turne to deedes Wo worth the time that faire sweete floures are growē to rotten weedes But thrise wo woorth the time that trueth away is fled Wherein I see how simple hartes with woordes are vainely fed Trust no faire woordes therefore where no deedes doo ensue Trust words as skilful Falkeners doo trust Haukes that neuer flew Trust deedes let wodrdes be woordes which neuer wrough me gaine Let my experience make you wyse and let woordes make fooles faine M. Edwardes 4. In his extreame sycknesse What greeues my bones and makes my body faint What prickes my flesh and teares my head in twaayne Why doo I wake when rest should me attaynt When others laugh why doo I liue in paine I tosse I turne I change from side to side And stretche me oft in sorowes linkes betyde I tosse as one betost in waues of care I turne to flee the woes of lothsome lyfe I change to spie yf death this corps might spare I stretche to heauen to ridde me of this strife Thus doo I stretche and change and tosse and turne Whyle I in hope of heauen by life doo burne Then holde thee still let be thy heauinesse Abolishe care forgeat thy pining woe For by this meanes soone shalt thou finde redresse When oft betost hence thou to heauen must goe Then tosse and turne and tumble franke and free O happy thryse when thou in heauen shalt be Finis L. Vaux 5. For Christmas day Reioyce reioyce with hart and voyce In Christes birth this day
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
What greuous crimes to God he doeth commit What plagues what panges what perill thereby spryng With no sure hower in all his daies to sit He would sure thinke and with greate cause I doo The daie of death is happier of the twoo Death is the doore whereby we drawe to ioye Life is a lake that drowneth all in paine Death is so dole it seaseth all awaie Life is so leude that all it yelds is vaine And as by life in bondage man is brought Euen so by death is freedome likewise wrought Wherefore with Paule let all men wishe and praie To be disolued of this foule fleshly masse Or at the least be armed against the daie That thei be founde good souldiers prest to passe From life to death from death to life againe And suche a life as euer shall remaine Finis D. S. 44. Beyng asked the occasion of his white head he aunswereth thus WHere sethyng sighes and sower sobbs Hath slaine the slipps that nature sett And skaldyng showers with stonie throbbs The kindly sappe from them hath fett What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where thought hath thrild and throne his speares To hurt the harte that harmth hym not And gronyng grief hath grounde for the teares Myne eyne to staine my face to spot What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where pinchyng paine hym self hath plaste There peace with pleasures were possest And walles of wealth are fallen to waste And pouertie in them is prest What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee Where wretched woe doeth weaue her webbe There care the clewe can catche and caste And floudds of ioye are fallen to ebbe So loe that life maie not long laste What wonder then though you doe see Vpon my head white heere 's to bee These heere 's of age are messengers Whiche bidd me fast repent and praie Thei be of death the harbingers That doeth prepare and dresse the waie Wherefore I ioye that you maie see Vpon my head suche heere 's to bee Thei be the line that lead the length How farre my race was for to ronne Thei saie my yongth is fledde with strength And how old age is well begonne The whiche I feele and you maie see Vpon my head suche lines to bee Thei be the stryngs of sober sounde Whose Musicke is hermonicall Their tunes declare a tyme from grounde I came and how thereto I shall Wherefore I ioye that you maie see Vpon my head suche stryngs to bee God graunt to those that white heere 's haue No worse them take then I haue ment That after thei be laied in graue Their soules maie ioye their liues well spent God graunt likewise that you maie see Vpon my head suche heere 's to bee Finis L. V. I Would to God I were Acteon that Diana did disguise To walke the Forest vp and doune whereas my ladie lies An Harte of heere and hewe I wishe that I were so So that my Ladie knewe me onely and no mo The shalyng Nutts and Maste that falleth from the tree Should well suffice for my repast might I my ladie see It should not greue me there in frost to lye vpon the grounde Delite should easly quite the coste what euill so that I founde Sometyme that I might saie when I sawe her alone Beholde see yonder slaue aldaie that walketh the woodds alone Finis M.B. WHy should I lenger long to liue In this desease of fantasie Sins fortune doeth not cease to giue Things to my mynde moste contrarie And at my ioyes doeth lowre and froune Till she hath tourned them vpsidoune Affrende I had to me moste dere And of long tyme faithfull and iuste There was no one my harte so nere Nor one in whom I had more truste Whom now of late without cause why Fortune hath made my enemie The grasse me thinks should growe in skie The starres vnto the yearth cleaue faste The water streame should passe awrie The winds should leue their streÌ„gt of blast The Sonne and Moone by one assent Should bothe forsake the firmament The fishe in ayer should flie with sinne The foules in floud should bryng forth fry All thyngs me thinks should erst beginne To take their course vnnaturally Afore my frende should alter so Without a cause to bee my foe But suche is Fortunes hate I saie Suche is her will on me to wreake Suche spite she hath at me alwaie And ceasseth not my harte to breake With suche dispite of crueltie Wherefore then longer liue should I. Finis E. S. 47. Prudens The historie of Damacles Dionise WHoso is set in princly trone and craueth rule to beare Is still beset on euery side with perill and with feare High trees by stormie winds are shakt rent vp froÌ„ the grouÌ„d and flashy flaks of lightnings flames on turrets do robouÌ„d When little shrubs in sauetie lurke in couert all alowe And freshly florishe in their kynde what euer winde doe blowe The cruell kyng of Scisily who fearyng Barbars hands Was wont to singe his beard hym self with cole and fire brands Hath taught vs this the proofe whereof fuâ—l plainly we maye see Was neuer thyng more liuely touched to shewe it so to bee This kyng did seme to Damacles to be the happiest wight Because he thought none like to hym in power or in might Who did alone so farre excell the rest in his degree As doeth the Sunne in brightnes cleare the darkest starre we see Wilt thou then said this cruell kyng proue this my present state Possesse thou shalt this seate of myne and so be fortunate Full gladly then this Damacles this proferd honour tooke And shootyng at a princely life his quiet rest forsooke In honours seate then was he plast accordyng to his will Forthwith a banquet was preparde that he might feast his fill Nothyng did want wherein t was thought that he would take delite To feede his eye to fill his mouthe or please the appetite Suche store of plate I thinke in Grece there scarsly was so much His seruitours did Angels seme their passyng shape was suche No daintie dishe but there it was and thereof was suche store That throughout Grece so princly chere was neuer seen before Thus while in poÌ„pe and pleasures seate this Damacles was plast And did beginne with gladsome harte eche daintie dishe to taste At length by chaunce cast vp his eyes and gan the house to vewe And sawe a sight that hym enforst his princly state to rewe A sworde forsoth with dounward point that had no stronger thred Then one horse heere that peised it direct vpon his head Wherewith he was so sore amasde and shooke in euery parte As though the sworde that hong aboue had stroke hym to the hart Then all their pleasures toke their leaue sorowe came in place His heauie harte the teares declared that trickled doune his face And then forthwith
braine Could kepe thee from their trecherie Suche Sirens haue we now adaies That tempt vs by a thousande waies Thei syng thei daunce thei sport thei plaie Thei humbly fall vpon their knees Thei sigh thei sobb thei prate thei praie With suche dissemblyng shifts as these Thei calculate thei chaunt thei charme To conquere vs that meane no harme Good ladies all letts ioyne in one And banishe cleane this Siren kinde What nede we yelde to heare their mone Since their deceipt we daiely finde Let not your harts to them apply Defie them all for so will I. And if where Circes now doeth dwell You wisht you witt aduise to learne Loe I am she that best can tell Their Sirens songes and them discerne For why experience yeldeth skill To me that scapt that Sirens ill Finis M. Bew. 55. Findyng no ioye he desireth death THe Cony in his caue the Feret doeth anoye And fleyng thence his life to saue him self he doeth destroye His Berrie rounde about besett with hunters snares So that when he to scape starts out is caught therein vnwares Like choise poore man haue I to bide and rest in loue Or els from thence to start and still as bad a death to proue I see in loue to rest 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 perse so my life it taks Thus then to fly or bide harde is the choise to chuse Since death hath caÌ„pde treaÌ„hed 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 request that faithfull loue professe When carcas cased is in chest and bodie laied on hears Your brinishe teares to saue suche as my corse shall moue And therewith write vpon my graue behold the force of loue W. H. Hope well and haue well IN hope the Shipman hoiseth saile in hope of passage good In hope of health the sickly man doeth suffer losse of bloud In hope the prisoner linckt in chaines hopes libertie to finde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mynd In hope desire getts victorie in hope greate comfort spryngs In hope the louer liues in ioyes he feares no dreadfull flyngs In hope we â—iue and maie abide suche stormes as are assignde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mind In hope we easely suffer harme in hope of future tyme In hope of fruite the pain semes swete that to the tree doeth clime In hope of loue suche glory growes as now by profe I finde That hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled minde W. H. He repenteth his folly WHeÌ„ first mine eyes did vew marke thy beautie faire for to behold And wheÌ„ myne eares gan first to harke the pleasant words that thou me told I would as theÌ„ I had been free froÌ„ eares to heare eyes to se And when my hands did handle oft that might thee kepe in memorie And when my feete had gone so softe to finde and haue thy companie I would eche hande a foote had been and eke eche foote a hand so seen And when in minde I did consent to followe thus my fansies will And when my harte did first relent to tast suche baite my self to spill I would my harte had been as thine or els thy harte as soft as myne TheÌ„ should not I suche cause haue fouÌ„d to wish this moÌ„strus sight to se Ne thou alas that madest the wounde should not deny me remedy Then should one will in bothe remain to grauÌ„t one hart whiche now is twaine W. H. 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 blast The pleasaunt herbe that euery where a fragrant smell doeth cast The Lyons forse whose courage stout declares a princlike might The Eagle that for worthinesse is borne of kyngs in fight The Serpent eke whose poisoned waies doeth belche out venim vile The lothsome Tode that shunneth 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 vade from forme to claie But my true harte and seruice vowed shall last tyme out of minde And still remaine as thine by dome as Cupid hath assignde My faithe loe here I vowe to thee my trothe thou knowest right well My goods my frends my life is thine what nede I more to tell I am not myne but thine I vowe thy hests I will obeye And serue thee as a seruaunt ought in pleasyng if I maie And sith I haue no fliyng wings to see thee as I wishe Ne finnes 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 that I maie greetyng 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 M. Edwards He complaineth his mishapp SHall rigor raigne where youth hath ron shall fansie now forsake Shall fortune lose that fauour wonne shall not your anger flake Shall hatefull harte be had in you that frendly did pretende Shall slipper thoughts and faithe vntrue that harte of yours defende Shall nature shewe your beautie faire that gentle semes to be Shall frowardnesse your fancies ayer be of more force then she Shall now disdaine the dragg of death direct 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 last Shall I receiue rigor for ruth and be from fauour cast Shall I therefore berent my harte 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 your helpe hereto purtende Giue place to witt let reason seme your enemie to defende Lest that you thinke as I haue thought your self to striue in vaine And so to be in thraldome brought with me to suffer paine Finis M.H. 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 craft with smilyng cheare creps into bloudy brest I heare how fained speache speaks faire where hatred is possest I se the Serpent lye and Iurck vnder the grene alowe I see hym watche a tyme to worke his poyson to bestowe In frendly looks suche fraude is founde as faithe for feare is fleade
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
words you would me write a message must I sende A wofull errande sure a wretched man must write A wretched tale a wofull head besemeth to endite For what can he but waile that hath but all he would And yet that all is nought at all but lacke of all he should But lacke of all his minde what can be greater greif That haue lacke that likes him best must neds be most mischief Now foole what maks thee waile yet some might saie full well That hast no harme but of thy self as thou thy self canst tell To whom I aunswere thus since all my harmes doe growe Vpon my self so of my self some happ maie come I trowe And since I see bothe happ and harme betids to me For present woe my after blisse will make me not forget thee Who hath a field of golde and maie not come therein Must liue in hope till he haue forse his treasure well to winne Whose ioyes by hope of dreade to conquere or to lose So greate a wealth doeth rise and for example doeth disclose To winne the golden flese stoode Iason not in drede Till that Medeas hope of helpe did giue hym hope to spede Yet sure his minde was muche and yet his feare the more That hath no happ but by your helpe maie happ for to restore The ragyng Bulls he dread yet by his Ladies charme He knewe it might be brought to passe thei could doe little harme Vnto whose grace yelde he as I doe offer me Into your hands to haue his happ not like hym for to be But as kyng Priamus did binde hym to the will. Of Cressed false whiche hym forsooke with Diomede to spill So I to you commende my faithe and eke my ioye I hope you will not be so false as Cressed was to Troye For if I be vntrue her Lazares death I wishe And eke to thee if I be false her clapper and her dishe Finis R. L. ¶ Beyng in trouble he writeth thus IN terrours trapp with thraldome thrust Their thornie thoughts to tast and trie In conscience cleare from case vniust With carpyng cares did call and crie And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Thus tremblyng there with teares I trodd To totter tide in truthes defence With sighes and sobbs I saied O God Let right not haue this recompence Lest that my foes might laugh to see That thou wouldest not deliuer me Bis. My soule then to repentaunce ranne My ragged clothes berent and torne And did bewaile the losse it wanne With lothsome life so long forlorne And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Then comfort came with clothes of ioye Whose semes were faithfull stedfastnesse And did bedecke that naked boye Whiche erst was full of wretchednesse And saied be glad for God is he That shortly will deliuer thee Bis. Finis T. M. ¶ Beyng troubled in mynde he writeth as followeth THe bitter sweate that straines my yelded harte The carelesse count that doeth the same embrace The doubtfull hope to reape my due desarte The pensiue path that guids my restlesse race Are at suche warre within my wounded brest As doeth bereue my ioye and eke my rest My greedie will that seks the golden gaine My luckles lot doeth alwaie take in worthe My mated mynde that dredes my sutes in vaine My piteous plaint doeth helpe for to set forthe So that betwene twoo waues of ragyng seas I driue my daies in troubles and desease My wofull eyes doe take their chief delight To feede their fill vpon the pleasaunt maze My hidden harmes that growe in me by sight With pinyng paines doe driue me from the gaze And to my hope I reape no other hire But burne my self and I to blowe the fire Finis I.H. ¶ Looke or you leape IF thou in suertie safe wilt sitt If thou delight at rest to dwell Spende no more words then shall seme fitt Let tonge in silence talke expell In all thyngs that thou seest men bent Se all saie nought holde thee content In worldly works degrees are three Makers doers and lookers on The lookers on haue libertie Bothe the others to iudge vpon Wherefore in all as men are bent Se all saie nought holde thee content The makers oft are in fault founde The doers doubt of praise or shame The lookers on finde surest grounde Thei haue the fruite yet free from blame This doeth persuade in all here ment Se all saie nought holde thee content The prouerbe is not South and West Whiche hath be saied long tyme agoe Of little medlyng cometh rest The busie man neuer wanteth woe The best waie is in all world 's sent Se all saie nought holde thee content Finis Iasper Haywood ¶ He bewaileth his mishappe IN wretched state alas I rewe my life Whose sorrowes rage torments with deadly paine In drowned eyes beholde my teares be rife In doubtfull state a wretche I must remaine You wofull wights enured to like distresse Bewaile with me my wofull heauinesse What stonie harte suche hardnes can retaine That sharpe remorse no rest can finde therein What ruthlesse eyes so carelesse can remaine That daiely teares maie pitie winne For right I seeke and yet renewe my sore Vouchsalfe at length my saftie to restore My loue is lost woe worthe in woe I dye Disdainfull harte doeth worke suche hatefull spite In losse of loue a wretche must ioye to dye For life is death now hope is banisht quite O death approche bereue my life from me Why should I liue opprest with woe to be Finis R. H. ¶ The complaint of a Synner O Heauenly God O Father dere cast doune thy tender eye Vpon a wretche that prostrate here before thy trone doeth lye O powre thy precious oyle of grace into my wounded harte O let the dropps of mercie swage the rigour of my smarte My fainting soule suppressed sore with carefull clogge of sinne In humble sort submitts it self thy mercie for to winne Graunt mercie then O sauiour swete to me moste wofull thrall Whose mornfull crie to thee O Lorde doeth still for mercie call Thy blessed will I haue despised vpon a stubborne minde And to the swaie of worldly thyngs my self I haue enclinde Forgettyng heauen heaueÌ„ly powers where God and saincts do dwel My life had likt to tread the path the leads the waie to hell But now my lorde my lode starre bright I will no more doe so To thinke vpon my former life my harte doeth melt for woe Alas I sigh alas I sobbe alas I doe repent That euer my licencious will so wickedly was bent Sith thus therefore with yernfull plain I doe thy mercie craue O Lorde for thy greate mercies sake let me thy mercie haue Restore to life the wretched soule that els is like to dye So shall my voyce vnto thy name syng praise eternally Now blessed be the Father first and blessed be the Sonne And blessed be the holie Ghoste by whom all thyngs are doen Blesse me O blessed Trinitie with thy eternall grace That after death my soule maie haue in heauen a dwellyng place Finis F.K. ¶ The fruite that sprynges from wilfull wites is ruthe and ruins rage And sure what heedelesse youth committes repentaunce rues in age I Rage in restlesse ruthe and ruins rule my daies I rue to late my rechlesse youthe by rules of reasons waies I ran so long a race in searche of surest waie That leasure learnde me tread the trace that led to leud decaie I gaue so large a raine to vnrestrained bitt That now with proofe of after paine I waile my want of witt I trifeled forthe the tyme with trust to self conceiptes Whilst pleÌ„ties vse prickt forth my prime to search for sugred baites Wherein once learnde to finde I founde so sweete a taste That dewe foresight of after speede self will estemed waste Whiche will through wilfulnesse hath wrought my witlesse fall And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse hath lapt my life in thrall Whereby by proofe I knowe that pleasure breedeth paine And he that euill seede doeth sowe euill frute must reape againe Let suche therefore whose youth and pursses are in Prime Foresee shun the helplesse ruthe whiche fews misspence of time For want is nexte to waste and shame doeth synne ensue Euil speding proofe hath hedeles hast my self hath proued it true When neighbours next house burnes t is tyme thereof take hede For fortunes whele hath choise of turnes which change of chaÌ„ses breds My saile hath been aloft though now I beare but lowe Who clims to high selde falleth soft dedst ebbe hath highest flowe Finis ê™ Yloop. ¶ Imprinted at London by Henry Disle dwellyng at the Southwest doore of S. Paules Churche 1576.