the first moouing heauen Three hundred and threscore in partes iustly deuided euen And yet there is another betwene those heauens two Whose mouing is so sly so slack I name it not for now The seuenth heauen or the shell next to the sâ—arry sky All those degrees that gatherth vp with aged pase so sly And doth performe the same as elders count hath bene In nine and twenty yeres complete and daies almost sixtene Doth carry in his bowt the starre of Saturne old A threatner of all liuing things with drought and with his cold The sixt whom this contâ—ins doth stalke with yonger pase And in twelue yere doth somwhat more then thothers vâ—age was And this in it doth beare the starre of Ioue benigne T'wene Saturns malice and vs men frendly defending signe The fift bears bloody Mars that in three hundred daies And twise eleuen with one â—ull yere hath finisht all those waies A yere doth aske the fourth and howers therto sixe And in the same the daies eye the sunne therin he stickes The third that gouernd is by that that gouerns mee And loue for loue and for no loue prouokes as oft we see In like space doth performe that course that did the tother So doth the next vnto the same that second is in order But it doth beare the starre that cald is Mercury That many a crafty secrete steppe doth tread as Calcars try That sky is last and fixt next vsâ— those waies hath gone In seuen and twenty common daies and eke the third of one And â—eareth with his sway the diuers Moone about Now bright now brown now beÌ„t now ful now her light is out Thus haue they of their own two mouinges all these seuen One wherein they be caried still eche in his seuerall heauen An other of them selues where their bodies be layd In by waies and in lesser rowndes as I afore haue sayd Saue of them all the Sunne doth stray lest from the streight The starry sky hath but one course that we haue cald the eight And all these moouinges eight are ment from West to East Although they seme to clime aloft I say from East to west But that is but by force of the first mouing sky In twise twelue houres from east to east that carieth them by by But marke we well also these mouinges of these seuen Be not about the axell tree of the first mouing heuen For they haue their two poles directly tone to the tother c. T. VVYATE the elder Songes and Sonettes of vncertain auctours The complaint of a louer with sute to his loue for pitie IF euer wofull man might moue your hartes to ruthe Good ladies here his woful plaint whose deth shal try his truth And rightfull iudges be on this his true report If he deserue a louers name among the faithfull sort Fiue hundred times the Sunne hath lodged him in the west Since in my hart I harbred first of all the goodlyest gest Whose worthynesse to shewâ— my wits are all to faynt And I lack cunning of the scooles in colours her to paynt But this I briefly say in wordes of egall weight So void of vice was neuer none nor with such vertues freight And for her beauties prayse no wight that with her warres For where she comes she shewes her self as sun among the starres But Lord thou wast to blame to frame such parfitenesse And puttes no pitie in her hart my sorowes to redresse For if ye knew the paines and panges that I haue past A wonder would it be to you how that my life hath last When all the Gods agreed that Cupide with his bow Should shote his arrowes from her eies on me his might to show I knew it was in vain my force to trust vpon And well I wist it was no shame to yelde to â—uch a one Then did I me submit with humble hart and mynde To be her man for euermore as by the Gods assinde And since that day no wo wherwith loue might torment Could moue me from this faithfull band or make me once repent Yet haue I felt full oft the hottest of his fire The bitter teares the scalding sighes the burning hote desireâ— And with a sodain sight the trembling of the hart And how the blood doth come and go to succour euery part When that a pleasant looke hath lift me in the ayer A frowne hath made me fall as fast into a depe despayer And when that I ere this my tale could well by hart And that my tong had learned it so that no word might start The sight of her hath set my wittes in such a stay That to be lord of all the world one word I could not say And many a sodayn cramp my hart hath pinched so That for the time my senses all felt neither weale nor wo. Yet saw I neuer thing that might my minde content But wisht it hers and at her will if she could so consent Nor neuer heard of wo that did her will displease But wisht the same vnto my self so it might do her ease Nor neuer thought that fayre nor neuer liked face Unlesse it did resemble her or some part of her grace No distance yet of place could vs so farre deuide But that my hart and my good will did still with her abide Nor yet it neuer lay in any fortunes powre To put that swete out of my thought one minute of an howre No rage of drenching sea nor woodnesse of the winde Nor cannoÌ„s w t their thundring cracks could put her froÌ„ my minde For when both sea and land asunder had vs set My hole delite was onely then my self alone to get And thitherward to looke as nere as I could gesse Where as I thought that she was theÌ„ that might my wo redresse Full oft it did me good that waies to take my winde So pleasant ayre in no place els me thought I could not finde I saying to my self my life is yonder way And by the winde I haue her sent a thousand sighes a day And sayd vnto the sunne great giftes are geuen thee For thou mayst see mine earthly blisse where euer that she be Thou seest in euery place would God I had thy might And I the ruler of my self then should she know no night And thus from wish to wish my wits haue been at strife And wanting all that I haue wisht thus haue I led my life But long it can not last that in such wo remaines No force for that for death is swete to him that feles such painesâ— Yet most of all me greues when I am in my graue That she shall purchase by my death a cruel name to haue Wherfore all you that heare this plaint or shall it see Wish that it may so perce her hart that she may pitie mee For and it were her will for both it were the best To saue my life to kepe her name and set my hart at rest Of the death of master Deuorox
the lord Ferres sonne VVHo iustly may reioyce in ought vnder the skye As life or lands as frends or frutes which only liue to dye Or who doth not well know all worldly works are vaine And geueth nought but to the lendes to take the same again For though it lift some vp as we long vpward all Such is the sort of slipper welth all thinges do rise to fall Thuncerteintie is such experience teacheth so That what things men do couer most them sonest they forgo Lo Deuorox where he lieth whose lâ—fe men held so deare That now his death is sorowed so that pitie it is to heare His birth of auncient blood his parents of great fame And yet in vertue farre before the formost of the same His king and countrye both he serued to so great gaine That with the Brutes record doth rest and euer shall remaine No man in warre so mete an enterprise to take No man in peace that pleasurde more of enmies frends to make A Cato for his counsell his hed was surely such Ne Theseus frendship was so great but Deuorox was as much A graffe of so small grothe so much good frute to bring Is seldome heard or neuer sene it is so rare a thing A man sent vs from God his life did well declare And now sent for by God again to teach vs what we are Death and the graue that shall accompany all that liue Hath brought him heueÌ„ though soÌ„what sone which life could neuer giue God graunt well all that shall professe as he profest To liue so well to dye no worse and send his soule good rest They of the meane estate are happiest IF right be rackt and ouerronne And power take part with open wrong If feare my force do yelde to soone The lack is like to last to long If God for goodes shalbe vnplaced If right for riches lose his shape If world for wisdome be embraced The gesse is great much hurt may hap Among good thinges I proue and finde The quiet life doth most abound And sure to the contented minde There is no riches may be found For riches hates to be content Rule is enmy to quietnesse Power is most part impacient And seldom likes to liue in pease I heard a herdman once compare That quiet nightes he had mo slept And had mo mâ—ry dayes to spare Then he which ought the beastes he kept I would not haue it thought hereby The Dolphin swimme I meane to teache Nor yet to learne the Fawcon fly I row not so farre past my reache But as my part aboue the rest Is well to wish and well to will So till my breath shall fail my brest I will not ceasse to wish you still Comparison of life and death THe life is long that lothsomly doth last The dolefull dayes draw slowly to their date The present panges and painfull plages forepast Yelde griefe aye grene to stablish this estate So that I feele in this great storme and strife The death is swete that endeth such a life Yet by the stroke of this strange ouerthrow At which conflict in thraldom I was thrust The Lord be praised I am well taught to know From whence man came and eke whereto he must And by the way vpon how feble force His terme doth stand till death doth end his course The pleasant yeres that seme so swift that runne The mery dayes to end so fast that flete The ioyfull nightes of which day daweth so soone The happy howers which mo domisse then mete Do all consume as snow against the sunne And death makes end of all that life begunneâ— Since death shall dure till all the world be wast what meaneth man to drede death then so sore As man might make that life should alway last Without regard the lord hath led before The daunce of death which all must runne on row Though howâ— or when the Lord alone doth know If man would minde what burdens life doth bring What greuous crimes to Goâ— he doth câ—mmiâ—t what plages what panges what perâ—iles thereby spring With no sure hower in all his daies to â—it He would sure think as with great cause I do The day of death were better of the two Death is a port wherby we passe to ioy Life is a lake that drowneth all in payn Death is so dere it ceaseth all annoy Life is so leude that all it yeldes is vayn And as by life to bondage man is braught Euen so likewise by death was fredome wraught Wherfore with Paul let all men wish and pray To be dissolude of this foule fleshly masse Or at the least be armde against the day That they be found good souldiers prest to passe From life to death from death to life again To such a life as euer shall remain The tale of Pigmalion with conclusion vpon the beautie of his loue IN Grece somtime there dwelt a man of worthy fame To graue in stone his cunning was PygmalioÌ„ was his name To make his fame endure when death had him bereft He thought it good of his own hand some filed worke were left In secrete studie then such worke he gan deuise â—s might his cunning best commend and please the lookers eyesâ— A courser faire he thought to graue barbd for the field And on his back a semely knight well armd with speare shield Or els some foule or fish to graue he did deuise And still within his wandering thoughtes new fansies did arise Thus varied he in minde what enterprise to take Till fansy moued his learned hand a woman fayre to make Wheâ—eon he stayde and thought such parfite fourme to frame Whereby he might amaze all Grece and winne immortall name Of yuorie white he made so faire a woman than That nature scornd her perfitnesse so taught by craft of man Wel shaped were her lims ful comly was her face Ech litle vain most liuely coucht eche part had semely grace Twixt nature Pigmalion there might appere great strife So semely was this ymage wrought it lackt nothing but life His curious eye beheld his own deuised work And gasing oft thereon he found much venome there to lurk For all the featurde shape so did his fansie moue That with his idoll whom he made Pygmalion fell in loue To whom he honour gaue and deckt with garlandes swete And did adourn with iewels rich as is for louers mete Somtimes on it he fawnd somtime in rage would cry It was a wonder to behold how fansy bleard his eye Since that this ymage dum enflamde so wise a man My dere alas since I you loue what wonder is it than In whom hath nature set the glory of her name And brake her moulde in great dispaire your like she coulde not frame The louer sheweth his wofull state and praieth pitie LYke as the Larke within the Marlians foote With piteous tunes doth chirp her yelden lay So sing I now seyng none other boote My rendering song and to your well obey
SONGES AND SONETTES written by the right honorable Lorde Henry Haward late Earle of Surrey and other Apud Ricardum Tottel Cum priuilegio ad imprimendum solum .1557 To the reder THat to haue wel writteÌ„ in verse yea and in small parcelles deserueth great praise the woorkers of diuers Latines Italians other doe proue sufficiently That our tong is able in that kinde to do as praise worthelye as the rest the honorable stile of the noble earle of Surrey and the weightinesse of the depe witted sir Thomas Wiat the elders verse with seueral graces in sondry good Englishe writers do show abuÌ„dantly It resteth now geÌ„tle reder y t thou thinke it not euil don to publishe to y e honor of the english tong and for prosit of the studious of Englishe eloquence those workes which the vngeÌ„tle horders vp of such tresure haue heretofore enuied the. And for this point good reder thine own profit and pleasure in these presentlye in moe hereafter shal answer for my defeÌ„ce If parhappes some mislike the statelinesse of stile remoued from the rude skil of coÌ„mon earee I aske help of the learned to defende their learned frendes the authors of this woork And I exhort the vnlearned by reding to learne to â—ee more skilfull and to purge that swinelike grossenesse that maketh the swete maierome not to smell to their delight Descripcion of the restlesse state of a louer with sute to his ladie to rue on his diyng hart THe suÌ„ne hath twise brought furth his tender grene Twise clad the earth in liuely lustinesse Ones haue the windes the trees despoiled ciene And ones again begins their cruelnesse Sins I haue hid vnder my brest the harm That neuer shal recouer healthfulnesse The winters hurt recouers with the warm The parched grene restored is with shade What warmth alas may serue for to disarm The frosen hart that mine in flame hath made What cold againe is able to restore My fresh grene yeres that wither thus and fade Alas I see nothing hath hurt so sore But time in time reduceth a returne In time my harm encreaseth more and more And semes to haue my cure alwaies in scorne Strange kindes of death in life that I do trie At hand to melt farre of in flame to burne And like as time list to my cure apply So doth eche place my comfort cleane refuse Al thing aliue that seeth the heauens with eye With cloke of night may couer and excuse It self from trauail of the daies vnrest Saue I alas against all others vse That then stirre vp the tormentes of my brest And curse eche sterre as causer of my fate And when the sunne hath eke the dark opprest And brought the day it doth nothing abate The trauailes of mine endlesse smart and pain For then as one that hath the light in hate I wish for night more couertly to plain And me withdraw from euery haunted place Lest by my chere my chaunce appere to plain And in my minde I measure pace by pace To seke the place where I my self had lost That day that I was tangled in the lace In semyng slack that knitteth euer most But neuer yet the trauaile of my thought Of better state coulde catch a cause to bost For if I found sometime that I haue sought Those sterres by whom I trusted of the port My sailes do fall and I aduance right nought As ankerd fast my sprites do all resort To stand agazed and sink in more and more The deadly harme which she doth take in sport Lo if I seke how I do finde my sore And if I flee I cary with me still The venomd shaft which doth his force restore By haste of flight and I may plaine my fill Unto my self vnlesse this carefull song Print in your hart some parcell of my tene For I alas in silence all to long Of mine old hurt yet fele the wound but grene â–ª Rue on my life or els your cruel wrong Shall well appere and by my death be sene Description of Spring wherin eche thing renewes saue onely the louer THe foote season that bud and blome forth brings With grene hath clad the hill and eke the vale The nightingale with fethers new she sings The turtle to her make hath tolde her tale Somer is come for euery spray now springs The hart hath hong his old hed on the pale The buck in brake his winter coate he flings The fishes flete with new repayred scale The adder all her slough away she slings The swift swallow pursueth the flies smalle The busy bee her hony now she minges Winter is worne that was the flowers bale And thus I see among these pleasant things Eche care decayes and yet my sorow springs Description of the restlesse state of a louer VVHen youth had led me half the race That Cupides scourge had made me runne I loked backe to mete the place From whence my wery course begonne And then I saw how my desire Misguidyng me had led the way Mine eyen to gredy of their hyre Had made me lose a better pray For when in sighes I spent the day And could not cloke my grief with game The boylyng smoke did still bewray The persant heat of secrete flame And when salt teares do bain my brest where loue his pleasant traines hath sowen Her beauty hath the frutes opprest Ere that the buds were sprong and blowne And when mine eyen did styll pursue The fliyng chace of their request Their gredy lokes did oft renew The hidden wound within my brest When euery loke these chekes might staine From deadly pale to glowyng red By outward signes appeared plaine To her for help my hart was fled But all to late loue learneth me To paint all kinde of colors new To blinde their eyes that els should see My specled chekes with Cupides hewe And now the couert brest I claime That worshipt Cupide secretely And nourished his sacred flame From whence no blasyng sparkes do flye Desciption of the fickle affections panges and sleightes of loue SUch waiward waies hath loue that most part in discord Our willes do stand whereby our harts but seldom do accord Deceit in his delight and to begile and mock The simple hartes whom he doth strike w t froward diuers stroke He causeth thone to rage with golden burning dart And doth alay with leaden cold again the other hart Whote glemes of burning fire and easy sparkes of flame In balaunce of vnegal weight he pondereth by aime From easy ford where I might wade and passe ful wel He me withdrawes and doth me driue into a depe dark hel And me withholdes wher I am cald and offred place And willes me that my mortall foe I doe beseke of grace He lettes me to pursue a conquest welnere wonne To folow where my paines were lost ere that my sute begonne So by this meanes I know how soone a hart may turne From warre to peace from truce to strife and so
my life away La. Yet for the best suffer some small delay Lo. Now good say yea do once so good a dede La. If I sayd yea what should therof ensue Lo. An hart in pain of succour so should spede Twixt yea and nay my doute shal still renewâ— My swete say yea and do away this drede La. Thou wilt nedes so be it so but then be trew Lo. Nought would I els nor other treasure none Thus hartes be wonne by loue request and mone why loue is blind OF purpose loue chose first for to be blinde For he with sight of that that I beholde Uanquisht had been against all godly kinde His bow your hand and trusse should haue vnfolde And he with me to serue had bene assinde But for he blinde and recklesse would him holde And still by chance his dedly strokes bestowe With such as see I serue and suffer wo. To his vnkinde loue WHat rage is this what furor of what kinde What power what plage doth wery thus my mindeâ— Within my bones to rankle is assinde What poyson pleasant swete Lo see myne eyes flow with continuall teares The body still away slepelesse it weares My foode nothing my fainting strength repaires Nor doth my limmes sustain In depe wide wound the dâ—dly stroke doth turne To cureles skarrâ— that neuer shall returne Go to triumph reioyce thy goodly turne Thy frend thou doest oppresse Oppresse thou doest and hast of him no cure Nor yet my plaint no pitie can procure Fierce Tigre fell hard rock without recure Cruel rebell to Loue Once may thou loue neuer beloued again So loue thou styll and not thy loue obtain So wrathfull loue with spites of iust disdainâ— May thret thy cruell hart The louer blameth his instant desire DEsire alas my master and my fo So â—ore altered thy self how mayst thou see Sometime thou sekest that driues me to and fro Sometime thou leadst that leadeth the and me what reason is to rule thy subiectes so By forced law and mutabilitie For where by thee I douted to haue blame Euen now by hate again I dout the same The louer complaineth his estate I See that chance hath chosen me Thus secertly to liue in paine And to â—n other geuen the fee Of al my losse to hane the gayn By chance assinde thus do I se rue And other haue that I deserue Unto my self sometime alone I do lament my woful case But what auaileth me to mone Since troth and pâ—tâ—e hath no place In them to whom I sue and serue And other haue that I deserue To seke by meane to change this mindeâ— Alas I proue it will not be For in my hart I cannot finde Once to refraine but styl agre As bound by force alway to serue And other haue that I deserue Such is the fortune that I haue To loue them most that loue me lesâ— And to my paine to seke and craue The thing that other haue possest So thus in vain alway I serue And other haue that I deserue And tyll I may apease the heate If that my happe wyll happe so well To waile my wo my hart shal freate Whose penâ—if pain my tong can tell Yet thus vnhappy must I serue And other haue that I deserueâ— Of his loue called Anna. VVHat word is that that changeth not Though it be turned made in twâ—inâ—â— It is mine Anna god it wot The only causer of my paine My loue that medeth with disdaine Yet is it loued what will you more It is my salue and eke my sore That pleasure is mixed with euery paine VEnemous thrones that are so sharp and kene Beare flowers we se full fresh and faire of hue Poison is also put in medicine And vnto man his helth doth oft renue The fier that all thinges eke consumeth cleane May hurt and heale then if that this be true I trust sometime my harme may be my health Sins euery woe is ioyned with some wealth A riddle of a gift geuen by a Ladie A Lady gaue me a gift she had not And I receiued her gift which I toke not She gaue it me willingly and yet she would notâ— And I receiued it albeit I could not If she giue it me I force not And if she take it againe she cares not Conster what this is and tel not For I am fast sworne I may not That speaking or profering bringes alway speding SPeake thou and spede where will or power ought helpâ—â—â— Where power doth want wil must be wonne by welth For nede will spede where will workes noâ— his kinde And gaine thy foes thy frendes shall cause thee finde For sute and golde what do not they obtaine Of good and bad the triers are these twaine He ruleth not though he raigne ouer realmes that is subiect to his own lustes IF thou wilt mighty be flee from the rage Of cruel will and see thou kepe thee free From the foule yoke of sensuall bondage For though thyne empyre stretche to Indian sea And for thy feare trembleth the fardest Thylec If thy desire haue ouer thee the power Subiect then art thou and no gouernour If to be noble and high thy minde be meued Consider well thy ground and thy beginning For he that hath eche starre in heauen fixed And geues the Moone her hornes and her ecsipsing Alike hath made the noble in his working So that wretched no way may thou bee Except foule lust and vice do conquer thee All were it so thou had a flood of gold Unto thy thirst yet should it not suffice And though with Indian stones a thousand folde More precious then can thy selfe deuise Yâ—harged were thy backe thy couiâ—ise And busy biting yet should neuer let Thy wretched life ne do thy death profet whether libertie by losse of life or life in prison and thraldom be to be preferred LYke as the birde within the cage enclosed The dore vnsparred her foe the Hawke without Twixt death and prison piteously oppressed whether for to â—hose standeth in dout Lo so do I which seke to bring about Which should be best by determinacion By losse of life libertie or life by prison O mischiefe by mischiefe to be redressed â—here pain is best there lieth but litle plâ—â—surâ— By short death better to be deliuered Than bide in painfull life thraldome and doler Small is the pleasure where much pain we suffer Rather therfore to chuse me thinketh wisdome By losse of lifâ— libertie then life by prison And yet me thinkes although I liue and sufferâ— I do but waite a time and fortunes chance Oft many thinges do happen in one houâ—r That which opprest me now may me adâ—ance In time is trust which by deathes greuance Is wholy lost Then were it not reason By death to chuse libertie and not life by prison But death wer deliueraÌ„ce wher life leÌ„gths painâ— Of these two ylles let see now chuse the best This bird to deliuer that here doth plain what say ye louers which shall
Your vertue mountes aboue my force so hye And with your beautie seased I am so sure That there auails resistance none in me But paciently your pleasure to endure For on your will my fansy shall attend My life my death I put both in your choyce And rather had this life by you to end Than liue by other alwayes to reioyce And if your crueltie do thirst my blood Then let it forth if it may do you good Vpon consideration of the state of this life he wisheth death THe lenger life the more offence The more offence the greater paine The greater paine the lesse defence The lesse defence the lesser gaine The losse of gaine long yll doth tryâ— Wherfore come death and let me dye The shorter life lesse count I fynde The lesse account the soner made The count soone made the merier mind The merier minde doth thought euade Short life in truth this thing doth trie Wherefore come death and let me dye Come gentle death the ebbe of care The ebbe of care the flood of lyfe The flood of life the ioifull fare The ioyfull faâ—e the end of strife The ende of strife that thing wishe I wherefore come death and let me dye The louer that once disdained loue is now become subiect being canght in his snare TO this my songe geue eare who list And mine â—ntent iudge as ye will The time is come that I haue myste The thing wheron I hoped styll And from the toppe of all my trust Mishap hath throwen me in the dust The time hath bene and that of late My hart and I might leape at large And was not shut within the gate Of looues desire nor toke no charge Of any thing that did pertaine As touching loue in any payn My thought was free my hart was lyght I marked not who lost who saught I playd by day I slept by night I forced not who wept who laught My thought from al such thinges was free And I my self at libertie I toke no hede to tauntes nor toys As leef to see them frowne as smyle where fortune laught I scornde their ioyes I founde their fraudes and euery wyle And to my selfe oft tymes I smiled To see howe loue had them begiled Thus in the net of my conceyt I masked still among the sort Of such as fed vpon the bayte That Cupide laide for his disport And euer as I saw them caught I them beheld and there at laught Tyll at the length when Cupide spied My scornefull wyll and spitefull vse And how I past not who was tyed So that my selfe myght still liue lose He set him self to lye in waite And in my way he threw a baite Such one as nature neuer made I dare well say saue she alone Such one she was as would inuade A hart more hard then marble stone Such â—ne she is I know it right Her nature made to shew her might Then as a man in a mase when vse of reason is away So I began to stare and gase And sodenly without delay Or euer I had the wit to loke I swalowed vp both baiâ— and hoke Whych dayly greues me more and more By sundry sortes of caâ—efull wo And none aliue may salue the sore But onely she tâ—at hurt me so In whom my lyfe doth now consist To saue or slay me as she list But seing now that I am caught And bounde so fast I cannot flee Be ye by myne ensample taught That in your fansies fele you free Despise not them that louers are Lest you be caught within his snare Of Fortune and fame THe plage is great where fortune frounes One mischiefe bringes a thousand woes Where trumpets gâ—ue their warlike sownâ—s The weke susteyne sharp ouerthrowes No better life they take and fele That subiect are to fortunes whele Her happy chaunce may last no time Her pleasure threatneth paines to come She is the fall of those that clime And yet her wheâ—e auanceth â—ome No force where that she hates or loues Her fickle minde so oft remoues She geues uo gift but craues as fast She sone repentes a thankfull dede She turneth after euery blast She helpes them oft that haue no nede Where power dwelles and riches rest False Fortune is a common gest Yet some affirme and proue by sayll Fortune is not a sleing fame She neyther can do good nor yll She hath no fourme yet beares a name Then we but striue against the stremes To frame such ioyes on fansies dreames If she haue shape or name alone Iâ— she do rule or beare no sway If she haue bodie life or none Be she a sprite I can not say But well I wot some cause there is That causeth wo and sendeth blisse The causes of thinges I will not blame Lest I offende the prince of peace But I may chide and braule with â—ame To make her crie and neuer cease To blow the trumpe within her eares That may appease my wofull teares Against wicked tonges O Euill tonges which clap at euery winde Ye slea the quicke and eke the dead defame Those that liue well some faute in them ye finde Ye take no thought in sclaundring their good name Ye put iust men oft times to open shame Ye ryng so loude ye sounde vnto the skyes Aâ—d yet in proofe ye sow nothing but lyâ—s Ye make great warre where peace hath ben of long Ye bring rich realmes to ruine and decay Ye pluck downe right ye enhaunce the wrong Ye turne swete mirth to wo and well away Of mischiefes all ye are the grounde I say Happy is he that liues on such a sort That nedes not feare such tonges of false report Hell tormenteth not the damned gostes so sore as vnkindnesse the louer THe restlesse â—age of depe deuouring hell The blasing brandes that neuer do consume The roring route in Plutoes den that dwell The fiery breath that from those ympes doth fume The dropsy dryeth that Tantale in the flood Endureth ay all hopelesse of reliefe He honger steruen where fruite is ready food So wretchedly his soule doth suffer griefe The liuer gnawne of gylefull Promethus Which Uultures fell with strained talant tire The labour lost of weried Sisiphus These hellish houndes with paines of quenchlesse fire Can not so sore the silly soules torment As her vntruth my hart hath all to rent Of the mutabilitie â—f the worlde BI fortune as I lay in bed my fortune was to finde Such faÌ„sies as my careful thought had brought into my minde And when eche one was gone to rest ful soft in bed to lye I would haue slept but than the watche did folow stil mine eye And sodenly I saw a sea of woful sorowes prest whose wicked wayes of sharpe repulse bred mine vnquiet rest I saw this worlde and how it went eche state in his degree And that from wealth I graunted is both life and libertie I saw how enuy it did raine and beare the greatest price Yet greater poyson is not founde
my life The misery that it hath felt That nought hath had but wo and strife And hotte desires my hart to melt O Lord how sodaine was the change From such a pleasant liberty The very thraldome semed straunge But yet there was no remedy But I must yeld and geue vp all And make my guide my chefist fo And in this wise became I thrall Lo loue and happe would haue it â—o I suffred wrong and held my peace I gaue my teares good leaue to ronne And neuer would seke for redresse â—ut hept to liue as I begonne For what it was that might me ease He liued not that might it know Thus dranke I all mine owne disease And all alone bewailde my wo. I here was no sight that mighte me pleaseâ— I fled from them that did reioyce And oft alone my 〈◊〉 to â—ase I would bewaile with wofull voyce My life my state my misery And curse my selfe al my daies Thus wrought I with my fantasie And sought my helpe none other waies Saue sometime to my selfe alone When farre of was my helpe God wot Lowde would I crye My life is gone My dere if that ye helpe me not Then wisht I streight that death might end These bitter panges and al this grief For nought methought might it amend Thus in dispaire to haue relief I lingred forth tyl I was brought with pining in so piteous case That al that sawe me sayd methought Lo death is painted in his face I went no where but by the way I saw some sight before mine eyes That made me sigh and oft times sayâ— My life alas I thee despyse This lasted well a yere and more Which no wight knew but onely I So that my life was nere for lore And I dispaired vtterly Til on a day as fortune would For that that shalbe nedes must fal I sat me down as though I should Haue ended then my lyfe and al. And as I sat to write my playnâ— Meanyng to shew my great vnrest With quaking hand and hart full faint Amid my plaintes among the rest I wrote with ynk and bitter teares I am not myne I am not mine Behold my life away that weares And if I dye the losse is thine Herewith a little hope I caught That for a whyle my life did stay But in effect all was for â—â—ught Thus liued I styl tyl on a day As I sat staring on those eyes Those shining eyes that first me bound My inward thought tho cryed Aryse Lo mercy where it may be found And therewithall I drew me nere With feble hart and at a braide But it was softly in her care Mercy Madame was all I sayd But wo was me when it was told For therwithall fainted my breath And I sate still for to beholde And heare the iudgement of my death But Loue nor Hap would not consent To end me then but welaway There gaue me blisse that I repent To thinke I liue to se this day For after this I plained styll So long and in so piteous wise That I my wish had at my will Graunted as I would it deuise But Lord who euer hard or knew Of halfe the ioye that I felt than Or who can thinke it may be true That so much blisse had euer man Lo fortune thus set me aloft And more my sorowes to releue Of pleasant ioyes I tasted oft As much as loue or happe might geue The sorowes old I felt before About my hart were driuen thenceâ— And for ech griefe I felt afore I had a blisse in recompence Then thought I all the time well spentâ— That I in plaint had spent so long So was I with my life content That to my self I sayd amoug Sins thou art ridde of al thine yll To shewe thy ioyes set forth thy voyce And sins thou haste thy wish at willâ— My happy hart reioyce reioyce Thus felt I ioyes a great deale 〈◊〉 Then by my song may well be tolde And thinking on my passed wo My blisse did double many folde Aud thus I thought with mannes blood Such blisse might not be bought to deare In such estate my ioyes then stodeâ— That of a change I had no feare But why sing â— so long of blisse It lasteth not that will away Let me therfore bewaile the misse And sing the cause of my decay Yet all this while there liued none That led his life more pleasantly Nor vnder hap there was not one Me thought so well at ease as I. But O blinde ioye who may thee trust For no estate thou canst assure Thy faithfull vowes proue al vniust Thy faire behestes be full vnsure Good proofe by me that but of late Not fully twenty daies ago Which thought my life was in such state That nought might worke my hart this wo. Yet hath the enemy of myne case Cruell mishappe that wretched wight Now when my life did most me please Deuised me such cruel spight That from the hiest place of all As to the pleasing of my thought Downe to the deepest am I fall And to my helpe auaileth noughâ— Lo thus are all my ioyes quite gone And I am brought from happinesse Continually to wayle and mone Lo such is fortunes stablenesse In welth I thought such suertie That pleasure should haue ended neuer But now alas aduersitie Doth make my singyng cease â—or euer O brittle ioye O welth vnstable O fraile pleasure O slidyng blisse Who feles thee most he shall not misse At length to be made miserable For all must end as doth my blisse There is none other certeintie And at the end the worst is his That most hath knowen prosperitie For he that neuer blisse assaied May well away with wretchednesse But he shall finde that hath it sayd A pain to part from pleasantnesse As I do now for ere I knew What pleasure was I felt no griefe Like vnto this and it is true That blisse hath brought me all this mischiefe But yet I haue not songen how This mischiefe came but I intend With wofull voyce to sing it now And therwithall I make an end But Lord now that it is begoon I fele my sprites are vexed sore Oh geue me breath till this be done And after let me liue no more Alas the enmy of this life The ender of all pleasantnesse Alas he bringeth all this strife And causeth all this wretchednesse For in the middes of all the welth That brought my hart to happinesse This wicked death he came by stelth And robde me of my ioyfulnesse He came when that I litle thought Of ought that might me vexe so sore And sodenly he brought to nought My pleasantnesse for euermore He slew my ioy alas the wretch He slew my ioy or I was ware And now alas no might may stretch To set an end to my great care For by this cursed deadly stroke My blisse is lost and I forlore And no helpe may the losse reuoke For lost it is for euermore And closed vp are those faire eyes That
of Orestes ring Down Thesâ—us went to hell Pirith his frend to finde O that the wiues in these our daies wer to their mates so kindeâ— Ciceroâ— the frendly man to Atticusâ— his frend Of frendship wrote such couples lo doth lot but seldome lend Recount thy race noâ— ronne how few shalt thou there see Of whom to say This same is he that neuer fayled mee So rare a iewell then must nedes be holden dere And as thou wilt esteem thy self so take thy chosen fereâ— The tirant in dispaire no lacke of gold bewayls But Out I am vndoon saith he for all my frendship fails Wherfore sins nothing is more kindely for our kinde Next wisdome thus that teacheth vs loue we the frendful minde The death of Zoroas an Egyptian Astronomer in the first fight that Alexander had with the Persians NOw clattering armes now ragyng broyls of warre Ganâ—â—â—â—e the noyes of dredfull trompets clang Shrowded with shafts the heuen with clowd of darts Couered the ayre against full fatted bulls As forceth kindled yre the Lyons keen whose greedy gutts the gnawyng honger pricks So Macedoins against the Persians fare Now corpses hide the purpurde soyl with blood Large slaughter on ech side but Perses more Moyst feelds be bledd their harts and nombers bate Fainted while they geue back and fall to flight The lightening Macedon by swoords by gleaus By bands and trowps of fotemen with his garde Speeds to Darie but him his nearest kyn Oxate preserues with horsemen on a plump Before his carr that none the charge could geue Here grunts here grones ech where strong youth is spent Shakyng her bloody hands Bellone among The Perses soweth all kynde of cruel death with throâ—e ycutt he roores he lieth along His entrails with a lance through girded quite Him smites the club him wounds farstrikyng bow And him the sling and him the shinyng swoord Hee dieth he is all dead he pants he rests Right ouerstood in snowwhite armour braue The Memphite Zorâ—as a cunning clarke To whom the heauen lay open as his boke And in celestiall bodies he could tell The mouyng metyng light aspect eclips And influence and constellacions all What earthly chances would betide what yere Of plenty storde what signe forwarned derth How winter gendreth snow what temperature In the primetide doth season well the soyl Why somer burns why autumne hath ripe grapes Whether the circle quadrate may become Whether our times heauens harmony can yelde Of four begins among them selues how great Proporcion is what sway the erryng lightes Doth send in course gayn that first mouyng heauen What grees one from another distant be what starre doth let the hurtfull sire to rage Or him more milde what opposition makes What fire dothâ— qualify Mauorses fire what house ech one doth seke what planet raignes Within this hemisphere or that small things I speake whole heauen he closeth in his brest This sage then in the starres had spied the fates Threatned him death without delay and sithe He saw he could not fatall order change Forward he preast in battayle that he might Mete with the ruler of the Macedoins Of his right hand desâ—rous to be slayne The boldest beurn and worthiest in the felde And as a wight â—ow weary of his life And sekyng death in first front of his rage Comes desperatly to Alexanders face At him with darts one after other throwes With reckles wordes and clamour him prouokes And saith Nectanabs bastard shamefull stain Of mothers bed why losest thou thy strokes Cowards among Turne thee to me in case Manhod there be so much left in thy hart Come fight with me that on my helmet weare Appolloes laurell both for learnings laude And eke for martiall praise that in my shield The seuenfold sophie of Minerue contein A match more meet sir king than any here The noble prince amoued takes ruthe vpon The wilfull wight and with soft wordes ayen O monstrous man quod he what so thou art I pray the lyue ne do not with thy death This lodge of lore the Muses mansion marr That treasure house this hand shall neuer spoyl My sword shall neuer bruse that skilfull braine Long gatherd heapes of science sone to spyll O how faire frutes may you to mortall men From wisdomes garden geue How many may By you the wiser and the better proue what error what mad moode what phrensy thee Perswades to be downe sent to depe Auerne Where no arts florish nor no knowledge vails For all these sawes when thus the souerain sayd Alighted Zoroas with sword vnsheathed The careles king there smot aboue the greue At thopenyng of his quishes wounded him So that the blood down reyled on the ground The Macedon perceiuyng hurt gan gnash But yet his minde he bent in any wise Him to forbear set spurs vnto his stâ—de And turnde away lest anger of his smart Should cause reuenger hand deale balefull blowes But of the Macedonian chieftains knights One Meleager could not beare this sight But ran vpon the said Egyptian reuk And cut him in both knees he fell to ground Wherwith a whole rout came of souldiers stern And all in pieces hewed the silly seg But happily the soule fled to the starreâ— Where vnder him he hath full sight of all Wherat he gased here with reaching looke The Persians wailde such sapience to forgo The very fone the Macedonians wisht He woâ—ld haue liued king Alexander self Demde him a man vnmete to dye at all Who won like praise for conquest of his yre As for stout men in field that day subdued Who princes taught how to discerne a man That in his hed so rare a iewell beares But ouer all those same Camenes those same Deuine Camenes whose honour he procurde As tender parent doth his daughters weal Lamented and for thankes all that they can Do cherish'him deceast and set him free From dark obliuion of deuouring death Marcus Tullius Ciceroes death THerfore when restlesse rage of winde and waue Hee saw By fates alas calld for quod hee Is haplesse Cicero sayl on shape course To the next shore and bring me to my death Perdy these thanks reskued from ciuill swoord Wilt thou my countrey paye I see mine end So powers diuine so bid the gods aboue In citie saued that Consul Marcus shend Speakyng no more but drawyng from deep hart Great grones euen at the name of Rome rehearst His eies and chekes with showrs of teares he washt And though a rout in dayly daungers worne With forced face the shipmen held their teares And striuyng long the seas roughâ— floods to passe In angry windes and stormy showres made way And at the last safe ancred in the rode Came heauy Cicero a land with pain His fainted lims the aged sire doth draw And round about their master stood his band Nor greatly with their owne hard hap dismayd Nor plighted fayth proue in sharp time to break Some swordes prepare some their dere lord assist In littour layd they lead
I lye at the point of death I call to minde the nauie great That the Grekes brought to Troye town And how the boysteous windes did beate Their ships and rent their sayles adown Till Agamemnons daughters blood Appeaâ—de the Gods that them withstood And how that in those ten yeres warre Full many a bloodie dede was done And many a lord that came full farre There caught his bane alas to soone And many a good knight ouerron Before the Grekes had Helene won Then thinck I thus sithe such repaire So long time warre of valiant men Was all to winne a lady faire Shall I not learne to suffer then And thinck my life well spent to be Seruing a worthier wight than she Therfore I neuer will repent But paines contented still endure For like as when rough winter spent The pleasant spring straight draweth in vre So after raging stormes of care Ioyfull at length may be my fare Complaint of the absence of her louer being vpon the sea O Happy damâ—s that may embrace The frute of your belight Help to bewaile the wofull case And eke the heauy plight Of me that wonted to reioyce The fortune of my pleasant choyce Good ladies help to fill my moorning voycâ— In ship freight with remembrance Of thoughts and pleasures past He sailes that hath in gouernance My life while it will last With scalding sighes for lack of gale Furdering his hope that is his sail Toward me the swete port of his auailâ— Alas how oft in dreames I see Those eyes that were my food Which somtime so delited me That yet they do me good Wherwith I wake with his returne Whose absent flame did make me burne But when I finde the lacke Lord how I mourne When other louers in armes acrosse Reioyce their chiefe delight Drowned in teares to mourne my losse I stand the bitter night In my window where I may see Before the windes how the clowdes â—lee Lo what a Mariner loue hath made me And in grene waues when the salt flood Doth rise by rage of winde A thousand fansies in that mood Assaile my restlesse minde Alas now drencheth my swete fo That with the spoyle of my hart did go And left me but alas why did he so And when the seas ware calme againe To chase fro me annoye My doutful hope doth cause me plaine So dread cuts of my ioye Thus is my wealth mingled with wo And of eche thought a dout doth growe Now he comes will he come alas no no. Complaint of a diyng louer refused vpon his ladies iniust mista king of his writing IN winters iust returne when Borâ—as gan his raigne And euery tree vnclothed fast as nature taught them plaine In misty morning darke as sheepe are then in holde I hyed me fast it sat me on my sheepe for to vnfolde And as it is a thing that louers haue by fittes Under a palme I heard one cry as he had lost his wittes Whose voyce did ring so shrill in vttering of his plaint That I amazed was to heare how loue could him attaint Ah wretched man quod he come death and ridde this wo A iust reward a happy end if it may chauuce thee so Thy pleasures past haue wrought thy wo without redresse If thou hadst neuer felt no ioy thy smart had bene the lesse And retchlesse of his life he gan both sighe and grone A rufull thing me thought it was to hear him make such mone Thou cursed pen sayd he wo worth the bird thee bare The man the knife and all that made thee wo be to their share Wo worth the time and place where I so could enditâ— And wo be it yet once againe the pen that so can write Unhappy hand it had ben happy time for me If when to write thou learned first vnioynted hadst thou be Thus cursed he himself and euery other wight Saue her alone whom loue him bound to serue both day night Which when I heard and saw how he himself fordid Against the ground with bloody strokes himself euen ther to rid Had ben my heart of flint it must haue melted tho For in my life I neuer sawe a man so full of wâ— With teares for his redresse I rashly to him ran And in my armes I caught him fast and thus I spake him than What woful wight art thou that in such heauy case Tormentes thy selfe with such despite here in this desert place Wherwith as al agast fulfâ—ld with irâ— and dred He cast on me â—â—â—ring loke with colour pale and ded Nay wh 〈…〉 ou quod he that in this heauâ— plight Doest find 〈◊〉 most wofull wretch that life hath in despighte I am quot◠〈◊〉 out poore and simple in degre A shepardes charge I haue in hand vnworthy though I be With that he gaue a sighe as though the skie shold fall And lowd alas he shriked oft and Shepard gan he call Come hie the fast at ones and print it in thy hart So thou shalt know and I shall tell the giltlesse how I smart His back against the tree sore febled al with faint With weary sprite he stretcht him vp and thus he told his plaint Ones in my hart quoth he it chaunced me to loue Such one in whom hath nature wrought her cuÌ„ning for to proue And sure I can not say but many yeres were spent with such good will so recompenst as both we were content Wherto then I me bound and she likewise also The sunne should runne his course awry ere we this faith forgo who ioied then but I who had this worldes blisse Who might compare a life to mine that neuer thought on this But dwelling in this truth amid my greatest ioy Is me befallen a greater losse then Priam had of Troy She is reuersed clene and beareth me in hand That my deserts haue geuen her cause to breke this faithful band And for my iust excuse auaileth no defence Now knowest thou all I can no more but shepheard hie the heÌ„ce And geue him leaue to dye that may no lâ—nger liue Whose record lo I claime to haue my death I do forgeue And eke when I am gone be bolde to speake it plaine Thou hast seen dye the truest man that euer loue did paine Wherwith he turned him round and gaspyng oft for breath Into his armes a tree he raughtâ— and said welcome my death welcome a thousand folde now dearer vnto me Than should without her loue to liue an emperour to be Thus in this wofull state he yelded vp the ghost And little knoweth his lady what a louer she hath lost Whose death when I beheld no maruail was it right For pitye though my hart did blede to se so piteous sight My blood from heat to colde oft changed wonders sore A thousande troubles there I found I neuer knew before Twene drede and dolour so my sprites were brought in feare That long it wâ—s ere I could call to minde what I did there But as ech thing hath end
gaue thee not to do it pain But to preserue lo it to thee was taken I serued thee not that I should be forsaken But that I should receiue reward again I was content thy seruant to remain And not to be repayed on this fashion Now since in thee there is none other reason Displease thee not if that I do refrain Unsaciat of my wo and thy desire Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault But sins it pleaseth thee to fain default Farewell I say departing from the fire For he that doth beleue bearing in hand Ploweth in the water and soweth in the sand The louer describeth his restlesse state THe flaming sighes that boyle within my brest Somtime breake forth and thei can well declare The hartes vnrest and how that it doth fare The pain therof the grief and all the rest The watred eyen from whence the teares do fall Do fele some force or els they would be dry The wasted flesh of colour ded can try And somtime tell what swetenes is in gall And he that lust to see and to disarne How care can force within a weried minde Come he to me I am that place assinde But for all this no force it doth no harme The wound alas happe in some other place From whence no toole away the skar can race But you that of such like haue had your part Can best be iudge Wherfore my friend so deare I thought it good my state should now appeare To you and that there is no great desart And wheras you in weighty matters great Of fortune saw the shadow that you know For trifling thinges I now am striken so That though I fele my hart doth wound and beatâ— I sit alone saue on the second day My feuer comes with whom I spend my time In burning heat while that she list assigne And who hath helth and libertie alway Let him thank God and let him not prouoke To haue the like of this my painfull stroke The louer lamentes the death of his loue THe piller perisht is wherto I lent The strongest stay of mine vnquiet minde The like of it no man again can finde From East to West still seking though he went To mine vnhappe for happe away hath rent Of all my ioy the very bark and rinde And I alas by chance am thus assinde Dayly to moorne till death do it relent But sins that thus it is by desteny What can I more but haue a wofull hart My penne in plaint my voyce in carefull cry My minde in wo my body full of smart And I my self my selfe alwaies to hate Till dreadfull death do ease my dolefull state The louer sendeth sighes to mone his sute GO burning sighes vnto the frosen hart Go breake the yse with pities painfull dart Might neuer perce and if that mortall praier In heauen be heard at lest yet I desire That death or mercy end my wofull smart Take with thee pain wherof I haue my part And eke the flame from which I cannot start And leaue me then in rest I you require Go burning sighes fulfill that I desire I must go worke I see by craft and art For truth and faith in her is laid apart Alas I can not therfore now assaile her With pitefull complaint and scalding fier That from my brest disceiuably doth start Complaint of the absence of his loue SO feble is the threde that doth the burden stay Of my poore life in heauy plight that falleth in decay That but it haue elswhere some ayde or some succours The running spindle of my fate anone shall end his course For sins thunhappy hower that did me to depart From my swete weale one onely hope hath stated my life apart Which doth perswade such wordes vnto my â—ored minde Maintain thy self O wofull wight some better luck to finde For though thou be depriued from thy desired sight Who can thee tell if thy â—eturne be for thy more delight Or who can tell thy losse if thou mayst once recouer Some pleasant hower thy wo may wrap and thee defend couer Thus in this trust as yet it hath my life sustained But now alas I see it faint and I by trust am trayned The time doth flete and I see how the howers do bend So fast that I haue scant the space to marke my comming end Westward the sunne from out the East scant shewes his light When in the West he hies him strayt within the dark of night And comes as fast where he began his path awry From East to West from West to East so doth his iourney lye The life so short so fraile that mortall men liue here So great a weight so heauy charge the bodies that we bere That when I think vpon the distaunce and the space That doth so farre deuide me from my dere desired face I know not how tattain the winges that I require To lift me vp that I might flie to folow my desire Thus of that hope that doth my life some thing sustaine Alas I feare and partly fele full litle doth remain Eche place doth bring me grief where I do not behold Those liuely eyes which of my thoughts wer woÌ„t y e keys to hold Those thoughts wer pleasant swete whilst I enioyed that grace My pleasure past my present pain when I might well embrace And forbecause my want should more my wo encrease In watch and slepe both day and night my will doth neuer cease That thing to wish wherof sins I did lese the sight Was neuer thing that mought in ought my wofull hart delight Thuneasy life I lead doth teach me for to mete The floodes the seas the land the hilles that doth theÌ„ entermete Twene me and those shene lightes that wonted for to clere My darked pangs of cloudy thoughts as bright as Phebus spere It teacheth me also what was my pleasant state The more to fele by such record how that my wealth doth bate If such record alas prouoke thenâ— lamed minde Which sprong that day that I did leaue the best of me behinde If loue â—orget himself by length of absence let Who doth me guyde O wofull wretch vnto this bayted net Where doth encrease my care much better wer for me As dumme as stone all thing forgot still absent for to be Alas the clere christall the bright transplendant glasse Doth not bewray the colours hid which vnderneth it hase As doth thaccumbred sprite the thoughtfull throwes discouer Of feares delite of feruent loue that in our hartes we couer Out by these eyes it sheweth that euermore delight In â—laint and teares to seke redresse and eke both day and night Those kindes of pleasures most wherein men so reioyce To me they do redouble still of stormy sighes the voyce For I am one of them whom plaint doth well content It sâ—ts me well myne absent wealth me semes for to lament And with my teares tassay to charge mine eyes twain Like as my hart aboue the brink is
grief clene to expell and some delight surprice Yea and iâ—â—alleth oft that nature more content Is with the lesse then when the more to cause delight is spent All worldly pleasures vade THe winter with his griesly stormes ne lenger dare abide The plesant grasse with lusty grene the earth hath newly dide The trees haue leues the bowes doâ—â—pred new chaÌ„ged is the yere The water brokes are cleane sonk down the plesant banks apere The spring to come the goodly nimphes now dasice in euery place Thus hath the yere most pleasantly of late ychangde his face Hope for no immortalitie for welth will weare away As we may learne by euery yere yea howers of euery day For Zepharus doth molifie the cold and blustering windes The somers drought doth take away the spring out of our mindes And yet the somer cannot last but once must step aside Then â—utumn thinks so kepe his place but Autumn cannot bide For when he hath brought forth his fruits stuft the barns w t corn Then winter eates and empties all and thus is Autumn worn Then hory â—rosts possesse the place then teÌ„pests work much harm Then rage of stormes done make all cold which somer had made so warm Wherfore lâ—t no man put his trust in that that will decay For slipper wealth will not continue pleasure will weare away For when that we haue lost our life and lye vnder a stone What are we then we are but earth then is our pleasure gone No man can tell what God almight of euery wight doth cast No man can say to day I liue till morne my life shall last For when thou shalt before thy iudge stand to receiue thy dome What sentence Minos doth pronounce that must of thee become Then shall not noble stocke and bloud redeme the from his hands Nor sugred talke with eloquence shall lose thee from his bandes Nor yet thy life vprightly lead can help thee out of hell For who descendeth down so depe must there abide and dwell Diana could not thence deliuer chaste Hypolitus Nor Theseus could not call to life his frende Perithous A complaint of the losse of libertie by loue IN seking rest vnrest I finde I finde that welth is cause of wo Wo worth the time that I inclinde To fixe in minde her beauty so That day be darkned as the night Let furious rage it cleane deuour Ne Sunne nor Moone therin giue light But it consume with streame and shower Let no small birds straine forth their voycâ— with pleasant tunes ne yet no beast Finde cause wherat he may reioyce That day when chaunced mine vnrest Wherin alas from me was raught Mine own free choyce and quiet minde My life me death in balance braught And reason rasde through barke and rinde And I as yet in flower of age Both wit and will did still aduance Ay to resist that burning rage But when I darte then did I glaunce Nothing to me did seme so hye In minde I could it straight attaine Fansy perswaded me therby Loue to esteme a thing most vaine But as the bird vpon the brier Doth pricke and proyne her without care Not knowing alas poore foole how nere She is vnto the fowlers snare So I amid disceitfull trust Did not mistrust such wofull happe Till cruell loue ere that I wist Had caught me in his carefull trappe Then did I fele and partly know How litle force in me did raigne So soone to yelde to ouerthrow Do fraile to flit from ioy to paine For when in welth will did me leade Of libertie to hoyse my saile To hale at shete and cast my leade I thought free choyce would still preuaile In whose calme streames I sayld so farre No raging storme had in respect Untill I raysde a goodly starre wherto my course I did direct In whose prospect in doolfull wise My tackle failde my compasse brake Through hote desires such stormes did riseâ— That sterne and top went all to wrake Oh cruell hap oh fatall chaunce O Fortune why were thou vnkinde Without regarde thus in a traunce To reue from me my ioyfull minde Where I was free now must I serue Where I was lose now am I bound In death my life I do preserue As one through girt with many a wound A praise of his Ladye GEue place you Ladies and be gone Boast not your selues at all For here at hand approcheth one Whoâ—e face will staine you all The vertue of her liuely lokes Excels the precious stone I wish to haue none other bokes To read or loke vpon In eche of her two cristall eyes Smileth a naked boye It would you all in hart suffice To see that lampe of ioye I thinke nature hath lost the moulde Where she her shape did take Or els I doubt if nature could So faire a creature make She may be well comparde Unto the Phenix kinde Whose like was neuer sene nor heard That any man can finde In life she is Diana chaâ—t In trouth Penelopey In word and eke in dede stedfast What wil you more we sey If all the world were sought so farre Who could finde such a wight Her beuty twinkleth like a starre Within the frosty night Her rosiall colour comes and goes With such a comely grace More redier to then doth the rose Within her liuely face At Bacchus feast none shall her mete Ne at no wanton play Nor gasyng in an open strete Nor gadding as a stray The modest mirth that she doth vse Is mixt with shamefastnesse All vice she doth wholy refuse And hateth ydlenesse O lord it is a world to see How vertue can repaire And decke in her such honestie Whom nature made so faire Truely she doth as farre excede Our women now adayes As doth the Ielifloure a wede And more a thousand waies How might I do to get a graffe Of this vnspotted tree For al the rest are plaine but chaffe Which seme good corne to be This gift alone I shal her geue When death doth what he can Her honest fame shall euer liue Within the mouth of man The pore estate to be holden for best Experience now doth shew what God vs taught before Desired pompe is vaine and seldome doth it last Who climbes to raigne with kinges may rue his fate full soreâ— Alas the woful ende that â—omes with care full fast Reiect him doth renowne his pompâ— full low is castâ— Deceiued is the birde by swetenesse of the call Expell that pleasant taste wherein is bitter gall Such as with oten cakes in poore estate abides Of care haue they no cure the crab with mirth they rost More ease fele they then those that from their height down slides Excesse doâ—h brede their wo they faile in Scillas cost Remainyng in the stormes tyll shyp and al be lost Serue God therefore thou pore for lo thou liues in rest Eschue the golden hall thy thatched house is besT The complaint of Thestilis amid the desert wodde THestilis a sely man when
to serue Brought vp trained in feates of war long time beyond the seas Cald home again to serue his prince whoÌ„ still he sought to please What tornay was there he refuâ—de what seruice did he shoon Where he was not nor his aduice what great exploit was doon In town a Lambe in fielde full fierce a Lion at the nede In sober wit a Salomon yet one of Hectors seede Then shame it were that any tong shold now defame his dedesâ— That in his life a mirrour was to all that him succedes No poore estate nor hie renowne his nature could peruart No hard mischance that him befell could moue hâ—s constant hartâ— Thus long he liued loued of all as one misliekt of none And where he went who cald him not the gentle Paragon But course of kinde doth cause eche fruite to fall when it is ripe And spitefull death will suffer none to scape his greuous gripe Yet though the ground receiued haue his corps into her wombe This Epitaphe ygraue in brasse shall stand vpon his tombe Lo here he lies that hateth vice and vertues life unbrast His name in earth his sprite aboue deserues to be well plast Time trieth truth EChe thing I see hath time which time must try my truth Which truth deserues a special trust on trust gret freÌ„dship groweth And frendship may not faile where faithfulnesse is sound And faithfulnesse is full of fruit and frutefull thinges be â—ound And sound is good at proofe and proofe is prince of praise And precious praise is such a pearle as seldome ner decaies All these thinges time tries forth which time I must abide How should I boldly credite craue till time my truth haue tride For as I found a time to fall in fansies frame So I do wish a lucky time for to declare the same If hap may answere hope and hope may haue his â—ire Then shall my hart possesse in peace the time that I desirâ— The louer refused of his loue imbraceth death MY youthfull yeres are past My ioyfull dayes are gone My life it may not last My graue and I am one My mirth and ioyes are fled And I a man in wo Desirous to be ded My mischiefe to forgo I burne and am a colde I freze amids the fire I see she doth withold That is my most desire I see my help at hand I see my life also I see where she doth stand That is my deadly fo I see how she doth see And yet she will be blinde I see in helping me She sekes and will not finde I see how she doth wry When I begin to mone I see when I come nye How faine she would begone I see what will ye more She will me gladly kill And you shall see therfore That she shall haue her will I can not liue with stones It is to hard a foode I will be dead at ones To do my lady good The picture of a louer BEhold my picture here well portrayed for the nones With hart consumed and falling flesh behold the very bones Whose cruell chance alas and desteny is such Onely because I put my trust in some folke all to much For sins the time that I did enter in this pine I neuer saw the rising sunne but with my weping eyen Nor yet I neuer heard so swete a voice or â—ound But that to me it did encrease the dolour of my wound Nor in so soft a bedde alas I neuer lay But that it semed hard to me or euer it was day Yet in this body bareâ— that nought but life retaines The strength wherof clene past away the care yet still remaine Like as the cole in flame doth spend it self you se To vaine and wretched cinder dust till it consumed be So doth this hope of mine inforce my feruent sute To make me for to gape in vaine whilst other eate the frute And shall do till the death doth geue me such a grace To rid this silly wofull sprite out of this dolefull case And then would God wer writ in stone or els in leade This Epitaphe vpon my graue to shew why I am dead Here lyeth the louer lo who for the loue he aught Aliue vnto his lady dere his death therby he caught And in a shielde of blacke loe here his armes appeares With weping eyes as you may see well poudred all with teares Loe here you may behold aloft vpon his brest A womans hand straining the hart of him that loued her best Wherfore all you that see this corps for loue that staruâ—s Example make vnto you all that thanklesse louers sarues Of the death of Phillips BEwaile with me all ye that haue profest Of musicke tharte by touche of coarde or winde Lay down your lutes and let your gitterns rest Phillips is dead whose like you can not finde Of musicke much exceeding all the rest Muses therefore of force now must you wrest Your pleasant notes into an other sound The string is broke the lute is dispossest The hand is cold the body in the ground The lowring lute lamenteth now therfore Phillips her frende that can her touche no more That all thing somtime finde ease of their paine saue onely the louer I See there is no sort Of thinges that liue in griefe Which at somtime may not resort Wheras they haue reliefe The striken Dere by kinde Of death that standes in awe For his recure an herbe can finde The arrow to withdrawe The chased Dere hath soile To coole him in his heat The Asse after his wery toile In stable is vp set The Cony hath his caue The litle bird his nest From heate and cold them selues to saue At all times as they list The Owle with feble sight Lyes lurking in the leaues The Sparrow in the frosty night May shroude her in the caues But wo to me alas In sunne nor yet in shade I cannot finde a resting place My burden to vnlade But day by day still beares The burden on my backe With weping eyen and watry teares To hold my hope abacke All thinges I see haue place Wherein they bow or bende Saue this alas my wofull case Which no where findeth ende Thassault of Cupide vpon the fort where the louers hart lay wounded and how he was taken VVHen Cupide scaled first the fort wherin my hart lay wounded sore The battry was of such a sort That I must yelde or dye therfore There saw I loue vpon the wall How he his banner did display Alarme alarme he gan to call And bad his souldiouâ—s kepe aray The armes the which that Cupide bare were pearced hartes with teares besprent In siluer and sable to declare The stedfast loue he alwaies ment There might you see his band all drest In colours like to white and blacke With powder and with pellets prest To bring the sort to spoile and sacke Good will the master of the shot Stode in the rampyre braue and proud For spence of powder he sparde not Assault assault
to cry aloud There might you heare the cannons rore Eche pece discharged a louers loke Which had the power to rent and tore In any place wheras they toke And euen with the trumpets sowne The scaling ladders were vp set And beauty walked vp and downe with bow in hand and arrowes whet Then first desire began to scale And shrowded him vnder his targe As on the worthiest of them all And aptest for to geue the charge Then pushed souldiers with their pikes And holbarders with handy strokes The hargabushe in flesh it lightes And dims the ayre with misty smokes And as it is the souldiers vse When shot and powder gins to want I hanged vp my flagge of truce And pleaded for my liues graunt When fansy thus had made her breach And beauty entred with her band with bag and baggage seâ—y wretch I yelded into beauties hand Then beauty bad to blow retrete And euery soldiour to retire And mercy wilde with spede to fet Me captiue bound as prisoner Madame quoth I sith that this day Hath serued you at all assaies I yelde to you without delay Here of the fortresse all the kaies And sith that I haue ben the marke At whom you shot at with your eye Nedes must you with your handy warkeâ— Or salue my sore or let me dye The aged louer renounceth loue I Lothe that I did loue In youth that I thought swete As time requires for my bâ—houe Me thinkes they are not mete My lustes they do me leaue My fansies aâ—l be fled And tract of time begins to weaue Gray heares vpon my hed For age with â—teling steps Hath clawed me with his crowch And lusty life away she leapes As there had bene none such My muse doth not delight Me as she did before My hand and pen are not in plight As they haue bene of yore For reason me denies This youthly idle timâ— And day by day to me she cries Leaue of these toyes in time The wrinkles in my brow The furrowes in my face Say limping age will hedge him now Where youth must geue him place The harbinger of death To me I see him ride The cough the cold the gasping breath Doth bid me to prouide A pikeax and a spade And eke a shrowding shete A house of clay for to be made For such a gest most mete Me thinkes I heare the clarke That knoles the carefull knell And bids me leaue my wofull warke Ere nature me compell My kepers knit the knot That youth did laugh to scorne Of me that clene shalbe forgot As I had not bene borne Thus must I youth giue vp Whose badge I long did weare To them I yelde the wanton cup That better may it beare Lo here the bared scull By whose balde signe I know That stouping age away shall pull which youthfull yeres did sow For beauty with her â—and These croked cares hath wrought And shipped me into the land From whence I first was brought And ye that bide behinde Haue ye none other trust As ye of claye were cast by kinde So shall ye waste to dust Of the ladie went worthes death TO liue to dye and dye to liue againe With good renowne of fame well led before Here lieth she that learned had the lore Whom if the parfect vertues wolden daine To be set forth with foile of worldly grace was noble borne and match in noble race Lord Wentworthes wife nor waÌ„ted to attaine In natures giftes her praise among the rest But that that gaue her praise aboue the best Not fame her wedlocks chastnes durst distain Wherein with child deliueryng of her wombe Thuntimely birth hath brought theÌ„ both in tomb So left she life by death to liue againe The louer accusing his loue for her vnfaithfulnesse purposeth to liue in libertie THe smoky sighes the bitter teares That I in vaine haue wasted The broken slepes the wo and feares That long in me haue lasted The loue and all I owe to thee Here I renounce and make me free Which fredome I haue by thy guilt And not by my deseruing Since so vnconstantly thou wilt Not loue but still be swering To leaue me of which was thine owne â—ithout cause why as shalbe knowen The frutes were faire the which did grow Within thy garden planted The leaues were grene of euery bough And moysâ—ure nothing wanted Yet or the blossoms gan fall The caterpiller wasted all Thy body was the garden place And â—ugred wordes it beareth The blossomes all thy faith it was which as the canker wereth The caterpiller is the same That hath wonne thee and lost thy name I meane thy louer loued now By thy pretented folye which will proue like thou shalt finde how Unto a tree of holly That barke and bery beares alwayes The one birdes feedes the other slayes And right well mightest thou haue thy wish Of thy loue new acquaynted For thou art lyke vnto the dishe That Adrianus paynted Wherin were grapes portraid so faire That fowles for foode did there repaireâ— But I am lyke the beaten fowle That from the net escaped And thou art lyke the rauening owle That all the night hath waked For none intent but to betray The slepyng fowle before the day Thus hath thy loue been vnto me As pleasant and commodious As was the fyre made on the sea By Naulus hate so odious Therwith to train the grekish host From Troyes return where they wer lost The louer for want of his desire sheweth his death at hand AS Cypres tree that rent is by the roote As branch or slippe bereft froÌ„ wheÌ„ce it growes As wel sowen seede for drought that can not sprout As gaping ground that raineles can not close As moules that want the earth to do them bote As fishe on land to whom no water flowes As Thameleon that lackes the aier so sote As flowers do fade when Phebus rarest showes As Salamandra repulsed from the fire So wanting my wish I dye for my desire A happy end excedeth all pleasures and riches of the world THe shining season here to some The glory in the worldes sight Renowmed fame through fortune wonne The glitteryng golde the eyes delight The sensuall life that semes so swete The hart with ioyful dayes replete The thyng wherto eche wight is thrall The happy ende exceadeth all Against an vnstedfast woman O Temerous tauntres that delights in toyes Tumbling cockboat totring to and fro Ianglyng iestres deprauers of swete ioyes Groud of the graffe whence al my grief doth grow Sullen serpent enuironned with dispite That yll for good at all times doest requite A praise of Petrarke and of Laura his ladie O Petrarke hed and prince of poets al Whose liuely gift of flowing eloquence Wel may we seke but finde not how or whence So rare a gift with thee did rise and fal Peace to thy bones and glory immortall Be to thy name and to her excellence whose beauty lighted in thy time and sence So to be set forth as none
other shall Why hath not our pens rimes so parfit wrought Ne why our time forth bringeth beauty such To trye our wittes as golde is by the touche If to the stile the matter aided ought But ther was neuer Laure more then one And her had Petrarke for his Paragone That petrark cannot be passed but notwithstanding that Lawra is far surpassed VVIth Petrarke to compare ther may no wight Nor yet attain vnto so high a stile But yet I wote full well where is a file To frame a learned man to praise aright Of stature meane of semely forme and shap Eche line of iust proporsion to her height Her colour fresh and mingled with such sleight As though the rose sate in the lilies lap In wit and tong to shew what may be sed To euery dede she ioynes a parfit grace If Lâ—wra liude she would her clene deface For I dare say and lay my life to wed That Momus could not if he downe discended Once iustly say Lo this may be amended Against a cruel woman CRuel vnkinde whom mercy cannot moue Herbour of vnhappe wher rigours rage doth raigne Ground of my griefe where pitie cannot proue Trikle to trust of all vntruth the traine Thou rigorous rocke that ruth cannot remoue Daungerous delph depe dungeon of disdaine Sacke of selfe will the chest of craft and change What causeth the thus causels for to change Ah piteles plante whom plaint cannot prouoke Den of disceite that right doth still refuse Causles vnkinde that cariest vnder cloke Cruelty and craft me onely to abuse Stately and stubberne withstanding Cupides stroke Thou merueilouse mase that makest men to muse Solleyn by selfe wil most stony stiffe and straunge what causeth thee thus causelesse for to change Slipper and secrete where surety cannot sowe Net of newelty neast of newfanglenesse Spring of al spite from whence whole fluddes do flow Thou caue and cage of care and craftinesse Wauering willow that euery blast doth blowe Graffe without groth and cause of carefulnesse Heape of mishap of all my griefe the graunge What causeth thee thus causelesse for to chaunge Hast thou forgote that I was thine infeft By force of loue haddest thou not hart at all Sawest thou not other for thy loue were left Knowest thou vnkinde that nothing mought befall From out of my hart that could haue the bereft What meanest thou then at ryot thus to raunge And leauest thine owne that neuer thought to chaunge The louer sheweth what he would haue if it were graunted him to haue what he would wishe IF it were so that God would graunt me my request And that I might of earthly thinges haue that I liked best I would not wish to clime to princely hye astate Which slipper is and slides so oft and hath so fickle fate Nor yet to conquere realmes with cruel sworde in hande And so to shed the giltlesse blonde of such as would withstand Nor I would not desire in worldly rule to raigne Whose frute is all vnquietnesse and breaking of the braine Nor richesse in excesse of vertue so abhorde I would not craue which bredeth care and causeth all discorde But my request should be more worth a thousand folde That I might haue and her enioye that hath my hart in hold Oh God what lusty life should we liue then for euer In pleasant ioy and perfect blisse to length our liues together With wordes of frendly chere and lokes of liuely loue To vtter all our hotte desires which neuer should remoue But grose and gredie wittes which grope but on the ground To gather muck of worldly goodes which oft do them confounde Can not attaine to knowe the misteries deuine Of perfite loue wherto hie wittes of knowledge do incline A nigard of his golde such ioye can neuer haue which gettes w t toile and kepes with care and is his money slaue As they enioy alwayes that taste lone in his kinde For they do holde continually a heauen in their minde Noâ— worldly goodes could bring my hart so great an easeâ— As for to finde or do the thing that might my ladie please For by her onely loue my hart should haue al ioye And with the same put care away and all that coulde annoy As if that any thing should chance to make me sadde The touching of her corall lippes would straightewaies make mâ— gladde And when that in my heart I fele that dyd me greue With one imbracing of her armes she might me sone releue And as the Angels al which sit in heauen hye With presence and the sight of god haue their felicitie So likewyse I in earth should haue all earthly blis With presence of that Paragon my god in earth that is The lady forsaken of her louer praieth his returne or the end of her own life TO loue alas who would not feare That seeth my wofull state For he to whom my heart I beare Doth me extremely hate And why therfore I cannot tell He will no lenger with me dwell Did you not sewe and long me seruâ— Ere I you graunted grace And will you this now from me swarue That neuer did trespace Alas poore woman then alas A wery lyfe here must I passe And shal my faith haue such refuse In dede and shall it so Is ther no choise for me to chusâ— But must I leue you so Alas pore woman then alas A werye life hence must I pas And is there now no remedy But thâ—t you will forget her Ther was a time when that perdy You would haue heard her better But now that time is gone and past And all your loue is but a blast And can you thus breake your behest In dede and can you so Did you not sweare you loued me best And can you now say no Remember me poore wight in paine And for my sake turne once againe Alas poore Dido now I fele Thy present painful state When false Eneas did hym stele From thee at Carthage gate And left thee slepyng in thy bed Regarding not what he had sed Was neuer woman thus betrayed Nor man so false forsworne His faith and trouth so strongly tyed Untruth hath all totorne And I haue leaue for my good will To waile and wepe alone my fyll But since it will not better be My teares shal neuer blin To moist the earth in such degree That I may drowne therin That by my death al men may say Lo women are as true as they By me al women may beware That sâ—e my wofull smart To seke true loue let them not spare Before they set their hart Or els they may become as I Which for my truth am lyke to dye The louer yelden into his ladies handes praieth mercie IN fredome was my fantasie Abhorryng bondage of the minde But now I yelde my libertie And willingly my selfe I binde Truely to serue with al my hart whiles life doth last not to reuart Her beauty bounde me first of all And forst my will for to consent And I
all thinges VVHat harder is then stoneâ— what more then water soft Yet with soft water dropsâ— hard stones be persâ—d softe What geues so strong impulse That stone ne may withstandâ— What geues more weake repulse Then water pâ—est with hand Yet weke though water be It holowith hardest flint By proofe wherof we see Time geues the greatest dint The beginning of the epistle of Penelope to Vlisles made into verse O Lingring make Ulisses dere thy wife lo sendes to thee Heâ— driry plaint write not againe but come thy selfe to me Our hatefull scourge that womans foe proud Troy now is fordon We bye it derer though Priam slaine and all his kingdome won O that the raging surges great that lechers bane had wrought When first with shâ—p he forowed seas and Lacedemon sought In desert bed my shiuering coarse then shold not haue sought rest Nor take in griefe the cherefull sunne so slowly fall to west And whiles I caâ—t long ruÌ„ning nightes how best I might begile No distaâ—â— should my widowish hand haue weary made the while When dread I not more daungers great then are befall in dede Loue is a carefull thing God wot and passing full of drede The louer asketh pardon of his passed follie in loâ—e YOu that in play peruse my plaint and reade in rime the smart Which in my youth with sighes full cold I harbourd in my hart Know ye that loue in that fraile age draue me to that distresse when I was haâ—fe an other man then I am now to gesse Then for this worke of waueâ—ing words where I now rage now rew Tost in the toyes of troublous loue as care or coÌ„â—ort grew I trust with â—ou that loues affairâ—â— bâ— proofe haue put in vre Not onely pardon in my plaint but pitie to procure For now I wot that in the world a wonder haue I be And where to loÌ„g loue made me blinde to late shame makes mese Thus of my fault shame is the fruite and for my youth thus past Râ—pentance is my recompence and this I learne at last Looke what the world hath most in price as sure it is to kepe As is the dreame which fansie driues while sence and reason slepe The louer sheweth that he was striken by loue on good friday IT was the day on which the sunne depriued of his light To rew Christs death amid his course gaue place vnto y â— night When I amid mine ease did fall to such distemperate fits That for the face that hath my hart I was bereft my wits I had the bayte the hooke and all and wist not loues pretence But farde as one that fearde none yll nor forst for no defence Thus dwelling in most quiet state I fell into this plight And that day gan my secret sighes when all folke wept in sight For loue that vewed me voide of care approcht to take his pray And stept by stelth from eye to hart so open lay the way And straight at eyes brake out in teares so salt that did declare By token of their bitter taste that they were forgde of care Now vaunt thee loue which fleest a maid defenst w t vertues rare And wounded hast a wight vnwise vnweaponed and vnware The louer describeth his whole state vnto his loue and promising her his faithfull good will assureth himself of hers again THe Sunne when he hath spred his raies And shewde his face ten thousand waies Ten thousand thinges do then begin To shew the life that they are in The heauen shewes liuely art and hue Of sundry shapes and colours new And laughes vpon the earth anone The earth as cold as any stone Wet in the teares of her own kinde Gins then to take a ioyfull minde For well she feeles that out and out The sunne doth warme her round about And dries her children tenderly And shewes them forth full orderly The mountaines hye and how they stand The valies and the great maine land The trees the herbes the towers strong The castels and the riuers long And euen for â—oy thus of this heate She sheweth furth her pleasures great And sâ—eepes no more but sendeth sorth Her câ—ergions her own dere worth To mount and flye vp to the ayre Where then they â—ing in order fayre And tell in sung â—â—il merely How they haue slept full quietly That night about their mothers sides And when they haue song more besides Then fall they to their mothers breastes Where els they fede or take their restes The hunter then soundes out his horne And rangeth straite through wood and corne On hilles then shew the Ewe and Lambe And euery yong one with his dambe Then louers walke and tell their tale Both of their blisse and of their bale And how they serue and how they do And how their lady loues them to Then tune the â—irdes their armonie Then flocke the foule in companie Then euery thing doth pleasure fâ—â—de In that that comforâ—es all their kinde No dreames do drench them of the night Of foes that would them sâ—ea or bite As Houndes to hunt them at the taile Or men force them through hill and dale The shepe then dreames not oâ— the Woulf The shipman forces not the goulf The Lambe thinkes not the butchers knife Should then bereue him of his life For when the Sunne doth once run in Then all their gladâ—es doth begin And then their skiâ—s and then their play So falles their sadnes theâ— away And thus all thinges haue comforting In that that doth them comfort bring Saue I alas whom neiâ—her â—unne Nor ought that God hath wrought and don May comfort ought as though I were A thing not made for comfort here For beyng absent from your sighte Which are my ioy and whole delight My comfort and my pleasure to How can I ioy how should I do May sick men laugh that rore for paine Ioy they in song that do complaine Are martirs in their tormentes glad Do pleasures please them that are mad Then how may I in comfort be That lacke the thing should comfort me The blind man oft that lackes his sight Complaines not most the lacke of light But those that knewe their perfectnes And then do misse ther blisfulnes In martirs tunes they syng and waile The want of that which doth them faile And hereof comes that in my braines So many fansies worke my paines For when I wayghe your worthynes Your wisdome and your gentlnes Your vertues and your sundry grace And minde the countenaunce of your face And how that you are she alone To whom I must both plaine and mone whom I do loue and must do still whom I embrace and ay so wil To serue and please you as I can As may a wofull faithful man And finde my selfe so far you fro God knowes what torment and what wo My rufull hart doth then imbrace The blood then chaungeth in my face My synnewes dull in â—ompes I stand No life I fele in foâ—e nor hand As pale as
any clout and ded Lo sodenly the blood orespred And gon againe it uill so bide And thus from life to death I slide As colde sometymes as any stone And then againe as hote anone Thus comes and goes my sundry fits To geue me sundri sortes of wits Till that a sigh becomes my frende And then to all this wo doth ende And sure I thinke that sigh doth roon From me to you where ay you woon For well I finde it easeth me And cettes much it pleaseth me To think that it doth come to you As would to God it could so do For then I know you would soone finde By sent and sauour of the winde That euen a martirs sigh it is Whose ioy you are and all his blis His comfort and his pleasure eke And euen the same that he doth seke The same that he doth wishe and craue The same that he doth trust to haue To tender you in all he may And all your likinges to obey As farre as in his powre shall lye Till death shall darte him for to dye But wealeaway mine owne most best My ioy my comfort and my rest The causer of my wo and smart And yet the pleaser of my hart And she that on the earth aboue Is euen the worthiest for to loue Heare now my plaint heare now my wo. Heare now his paine that loues you so And if your hart do pitie beare Pitie the cause that you shall heare A dolefull foe in all this doubt Who leaues me not but sekes me out Of wretched forme and lothsome face While I stand in this wofull case Comes forth and takes me by the hand And saies frende harke and vnderstand I see well by thy port and chere And by thy lokes and thy manere And by thy sadnes as thou goest And by the sighes that thou outthrowesâ—â— That thou art stuffed full of wo The cause I thinke I do well know A fantaser thou art of some By whom thy wits are ouercome But hast thou red old pamphlets ought Or hast thou known how bokes haue taught That loue doth vse to such as thow When they do thinke them safe â—now And certain of their ladies grace Hast thou not sene oft tunes the case That sodenly there hap hath turnde As thinges in flame consumde and burnde Some by disceite forsaken right Some likwise changed of fansy light And some by absence sone forgot The lottes in loue why knowest thou not And tho that she be now thine own And knowes the well as may be knowne And thinkes the to be such a one As she likes best to be her own Thinkes thou that others haue not grace To shew and plain their wofull case And chose her for their lady now And swere her trouth as well as thow And what if she do alter minde Where is the loue that thou wouldest finde Absence my frende workes wonders oft Now bringes full low that lay full loft Now turnes the minde now to and fro And where art thou if it were so If basence quod I be marueilous I finde her not so dangerous For she may not remoue me fro The â—â—ore good will that I do owe To her whom vnneth I loue and shall And chosen haue aboue them all To serue and be her own as far As any man may offer her And will her serue and will her loue As lowly as it shall behoue And dye her own if fate be so Thus shall my hart nay part her frâ— And wilnes shall my good will be That absence takes her not from me But that my loue doth still encrease To minde her still and neuer cease Aud what I feele to be in me The same good will I think hath she As firme and fast to biden ay Till death depart vs both away And as I haue my tale thus told Sâ—â—ps vnto me with countenance bold A stedfast frende a counsellour And namde is Hope my comfortour And stoutly then he speakes and saies Thou hast sayde trouth withouten nayes For I assure thee euen by othe And theron take my hand and trothe That she is one the worthiest The truest and the faithfullest The gentlest and the meekest of minde That here on earth a man may finde And if that loue and trouth were gone In her it might be found alone For in her minde no thought there is But how she may be true â—wis And tenders thee and all thy heale And wisheth both thy health and weale And loues thee euen as farforth than As any woman may a man And is thine own and so she saies And cares for thee ten thousand waies On thee she speakes on thee she thinkes With thee she eates with thee she drinkes With thee she talkes with thee she mones With thee she sighes with thee she grones With thee she saies farewell mine own When thou God knowes full farre art gon And euen to tell thee all aright To thee she saies full oft good night And names thee oft her owne most dere Her comfort weale and al her chere And telles her pelow al the tale How thou hast doon her wo and bale And how she longes and plaines for the And saies why art thou so from me Am I not she that loues the best Do I not wish thine ease and test Seke I not how I may the please Why art thou then so from thine ease If I be she for whom thou carest For whom in tormentes so thou farest Alas thou knowest to finde me here Where I remaine thine owne most dere Thine own most true thine owne most iust Thine own that loues the styl and must Thine own that cares alone for the As thou I thinke dost care for me And euen the woman she alone That is full bent to be thine owne What wilt thou more what caÌ„st thou craue Since she is as thou wouldest her haue Then set this driuell out of dore That in thy braines such tales doth poore Of absence and of chaunges straunge Send him to those that vse to chaunge For she is none I the auowe And well thou maiest beleue me now When hope hath thus his reason said Lord how I fele me well apaide A new blood then orespredes my bones That al in ioy I stand at ones My handes I throw to heuen aboue And humbly thank the god of loue That of his grace I should bestow My loue so well as I it owe. And al the planets as they stand I thanke them to with hart and hand That their aspectes so frendly were That I should so my good will bere To you that are the worthiest The fairest and the gentillest And best can say and best can do That longes me thinkes a woman to And therfore are most worthy far To be beloued as you ar And so saies hope in all his tale Wherby he easeth all my bale For I beleue and thinke it true That he doth speake or say of you And thus contented lo I stand With that that hope beares me in
those therfore that wisely can beware The guilefull man that sutly sayth himselfe to dread the snare Blame not the stopped eares against the Syrenes song Blame not the minde not moued w t mone of falsheds flowing toÌ„g If guile do guide your wit by silence so to speake By craft to craue and faine by fraude the cause y t you wold break Great harme your suttle soule shall suffer for the same And mighty loue will wreke the wrong so cloked with his name But we whom you haue warnde this lesson learne by you To know the tree before we clime to trust no rotten bowe To view the limed bushe to looke afore we light To shunne the perilous bayted hooke and vse a further sight As do the mouse the birde the fish by samply fitly show That wily wits and ginnes of men do worke the simples wo So simple sithe we are and you so suttle be God help the Mouse the birde the fish vs your sleightes to â—â—e The louer complaineth his fault that with vngentle writing had displeased his lady AH loue how waiward is his wit what paÌ„ges do perce his brest Whom thou to wait vpon thy will hast reued of his rest The light the darke the sunne the mone the day eke the night His dayly dieng life him self he hateth in despight Sith furst he light to looke on her that holdeth him in thrall His mouing eyen his moued wit he curseth hart and all From hungry hope to pining feare eche hap doth hurle his hart From panges of plaint to fits of fume from aking into smart Eche moment so doth change his châ—re not with recourse of ease But with sere sortes of sorrowes still he worketh as the seas That turning windes not calme returnde rule in vnruly wise As if their holdes of hilles vphurld they brasten out to rise And puffe away the power that is vnto their king assignde To pay that sithe their prisonment they deme to be behinde So doth the passions long represt within the wofull wight Breake downe the banks of all his wits out they gushen quite To rere vp rores now they be free from reasons rule and stay And hâ—dlong hales thunruled race his quiet quite away No measure hath he of his ruth no reason in his rage No bottom grouÌ„d where stayes his grief thus weares away his age In wishing wants in wayling woes Death doth he dayly call To bring release when of relief he seeth no hope at all Thence comes that oft in depe despeire to rise to better state On heauen and heauenly lampes he layeth the faute of al his fate On God and Gods decreed dome cryeth out with cursing breath Eche thing that gaue and saues him life he damneth of his death The woÌ„be him bare y e brests he suckt ech star y t with their might Their secret succour brought to bring the wretch to worldly light Yea that to his soules perile is most haynous harme of all And craues the cruellest reuenge that may to man befall Her he blasphemes in whom it lieth in present as she please To dampne him downe to depth of hell or plant in heauens case Such rage constrainde my strained hart to guide thunhappy hand That sent vnsitting blots to her on whom my life doth stand But graunt O God that he for them may beare the worthy blame Whom I do in my depe distresse finde guilty of the same Euen that blinde boy that blindly guides the fautles to their fall That laughes when they lament that he hath throwen into thral Or Lord saue louring lookes of her what penance els thou please So her contented will be wonne I count it all mine ease And thou on whoÌ„ doth hang my will with hart with soul care With life and all that life may haue of well or euell fare Graunt grace to him that grates therfore with sea of saltish brine By extreme heat of boylyng brest distilled through his eyen And with thy fancy render thou my self to me againe That dayly then we duely may employ a painelesse paine To yelde and take the ioyfull frutes that â—erty loue doth lendâ— To them that meane by honest meanes to come to happy end The louer wounded of Cupide wisheth he had rather ben stâ—â—ken by death THe blinded boy that bendes the bow To make with dint of double wound The stowtest state to stoupe and know The cruell craft that I haue found With death I would had chopt a change To â—orow as by bargain made Ech others shaft when he did range With restlesse rouyng to inuade Thunthralled mindes of simple wightes Whose giltlesse ghostes deserued not To fele such fall of their delightes Such panges as I haue past God wot Then both in new vnwonted wise Should death deserue a better name Not as tofore hath bene his guise Of crueltie to beare the blame But contrary be counted kinde In lendyng life and sparyng space For sicke to rise and seke to finde A way to wish their weary race To draw to some desired end Their long and lothed life to rid And so to fele how like a frend Before the bargain made he did And loue should either bring againe To wounded wightes their owne desire A welcome end of pinyng payne As doth their cause of ruthe require Or when he meanes the quiet man A harme to hasten him to grefe A better dede he should do then With borrowd dart to geue relefe That both the sicke well demen may He brought me rightly my request And eke the other sort may say He wrought me truely for the best So had not fancy forced me To beare a brunâ— of greater wo Then leauing such a life may be The ground where onely grefes do grow Unlucky likyng linkt my hart In forged hope and forced feare That oft I wisht the other dart Had rather perced me as neare A fayned trust constrayned care Most loth to lack most hard to finde In sunder so my iudgement tare That quite was quiet out of minde Absent in absence of mine ease Present in presence of my paine The woes of want did much displease The sighes I sought did greue againe Oft grefe that boyled in my brest Hath fraught my face with saltish tearesâ— Pronouncyng proues of mine vnrest Whereby my passed paine appeares My sighes full often haue supplied That faine with wordes I wold haue said My voice was stopt my tong was tyed My wits with wo were ouerwayd With tremblyng soule and humble chereâ— Oft grated I for graunt of grace On hope that bounty might be there Where beauty had so pight her place At length I found that I did fere How I had labourde all to losse My self had ben the carpenter That framed me the cruell crosse Of this to come if dout alone Though blâ—nt with trust of better spede So oft hath moued my minde to mone So oft hath made my hart to blede What shall I say of it in dede Now hope is gone mine olde
I make For mine executour and my frende That liuing did not me forsake Nor will I trust vnto my ende To see my body well conueyde In ground where that it shalbe laydeâ— Tombed vnderneth a goodly Oke With Iuy grene that fast is bound There this my graue I haue bespâ—ke For there my ladies name do souâ—d Beset euen as my teâ—tament tels With oken leaues and nothing els Grauen wheron shaâ—be exprest Here lyeth the body in this place Of him that liuing neuer cest To serue the fayrest that euer was The corps is here the hart he gaue To her for whom he lieth in graue And also set about my hersse Two lampes to burne and not to queint Which shalbe token and rehersse That my good will was neuer spent When that my corps was layd alow My spirit did sweare to serue no mo And if you want of ringing bels When that my corps goth into graue Repete her name and nothing els To whom that I was bonden slaue When that my life it shall vnframe My sprite shall ioy to heare her name With dolefull note and piteous sound Wherwith my hart did cleaue in twaine With such a song lay me in ground My sprite let it with her remayne That had the body to commend Till death therof did make an end And euen with my last bequest When I shall from this life depart I geue to her I loued best My iust my true and faithfull hart Signed with the hand as cold as stone Of him that liuing was her owne And if he here might liue agayne As Phenix made by death anew Of this she may assure her plaine That he will still be iust and trew Thus farewell she on liue my owne And send her ioy when I am gone The louer in dispeire lamenteth his case A Dieu desert how art thou spent Ah dropping teares how do ye washe Ah scalding â—ighes how be ye spent To pricke them forth that will not hast Ah payned hart thou gapst for grace Euen there where pitie hath no place As easy it is the stony rocke From place to place for to remoue As by thy plaint for to prouoke A fâ—osen hart from hate to loue What should I say such is thy lot To fawne on them that force the not Thus maist thou safely say and sweare That rigour raighneth and ruth doth faile In thanklesse thoughts thy thoughts do weâ—â— Thy truth thy faith may nought auaile For thy good will why should thou so Still graft where grace it will not grow Alas pore hart thus hast thou spent Thy flowryng time thy pleasant yeres With sighing voyce wepe and lament For of thy hope no frute apperes Thy true meanyng is paide with scorne That euer soweth and repeth no corne And where thou sekes a quiet port Thou dost but weigh agaynst the winde For where thou gladdest woldst resort There is no place for thee assinde Thy desteny hath set it so That thy true hart should cause thy wo. Of his maistresse m. Bâ— IN Bayes I boast whose braunch I beare Such ioy therin I finde That to the death I shall it weare To ease my carefull minde In heat in cold both night and day Her vertue may be sene When other frutes and flowers decayâ— The bay yet growes full grene Her berries fede the birdes full oft Her leues swete water make Her bowes be set in euery loft For their swete sauours sake The birdes do shrowd them from the cold In her we dayly see And men make arbers as they wold Under the pleasant tree It doth me good when I repayre There as these bayes do grow Where oft I walke to take the ayre It doth delight me soâ— But loe I stand as I wâ—re dome Her beauty fo to blase Wherwâ—th my sprâ—tes be ouercome So long theron I gase At last I turne vnto my walk In passing to and fro And to my self I smile and talk And then away I go Why smilest thou say lokers on what pleasure hast thou found With that I am as cold as stone And ready for to swound Fie fie for shame sayth fansy than Pluck vp thy faynted hart And speke thou boldly like a man Shrinke not for little smart Wherat I blushe and change my chere My senses ware so wâ—ake O god think I what make I here That neuer a word may speake I dare not sigh lest I be heard My lokes I slyly cast And still I stand as one were scarde Untill my stormes be past Then happy hap doth me reuiue The blood comes to my face A merier man is not aliue Then I am in that case Thus after sorow seke I rest When fled is fansies fit And though I be a homely gest Before the bayes I sitâ— Where I do watch till leaues do fall When winde the tree doth shake Then though my branch be very small My leafe away I take And then I go and clap my hands My hart doth leape for ioy These bayes do ease me from my bands That long did me annoy For when I do behold the same Which makes so faire a show I finde therin my maistresse name And se her vertues grow The louer complaineth his harty loue not requited WHen Phebus had the serpent slaine He claymed Cupides boe which strife did turne him to great paine The story well doth proue For Cupide made him fele much woe In sekyng Dephnes loue This Cupide hath a shaft of kinde Which wounded many a wight Whose golden hed had power to binde Ech hart in Uenus bandes This arrow did on Phebus light Which came from Cupides handes An other shast was wrought in spiteâ— Which headed was with lead Whose nature quenched swete delight That louers most embrace In Dephnes brest this cruell head Had found a dwellyng place But Phebus fonde of his desire Sought after Dephnes so He buâ—nt with heat she felt no fire Full fast she fled him fro He gate but hate for his good will The gods assigned so My case with Phebus may compare His hap and mine are one I cry to her that knowes no eare Yet seke I to her most When I approche then is she gone Thus is my labour lost Now blame not me but blame the shaft That hath the golden head And blame those gods that with their craft Such arrowes forge by kinde And blame the cold and heauy lead That doth my ladies minde A praise of m. M. IN court as I behelde the beauty of eche dame Of right my thought froÌ„ all the rest should M. steale the sameâ— But er I ment to iudge I vewed with such aduise As retchlesse dome should not inuade the boundes of my deuise And whiles I gased long such heat did brede within As Priamus towne felt not more flame wheÌ„ did the bale begin By reasons rule ne yet by wit perceue I could That M face of earth yfound enioy such beauty should And fansy doubted that from heauen had Uenus come To norish rage in Britaynes harts while
him vnkouth wayes If so deceaue Antonius cruell gleaues They might and threats of folowyng routs escape Thus lo that Tullie went that Tullius Of royall robe and sacred senate prince When he a far the men approch espieth And of his â—one the ensignes doth aknow And with drawn swoord Popilius threatning death Whose life and holl estate in hazard once Hee had preserude when Room as yet to free Herd him and at his thundring voyce amazde Herennius eek more eyger than the rest Present enflamde with furie him purseews What might hee doo Should hee vse in defense Disarmed hands â—or pardon ask for meed Should he with wordes attempt to turn the wrath Of tharmed knight whose safegard hee had wrought No age forbids and fixt within depe brest His countryes loue and falling Romes image The charret turn sayth hee let loose the rayns Roon to the vndeserued death mee lo Hath Phebus fowl as messenger forwarnd And Ioue desires a neew heauensman to make Brutus and Cassius soulls liue you in blisse In case yet all the fates gaynstriue vs not Neither shall we perchaunce dye vnreuenged Now haue I liued O Room ynough for mee My passed life nought suffreth me to dout Noysom obliuion of the lothesome death Slea mee yet all the ofspring to come shall know And this deceas shall bring eternall life Yea and onlesse I fayl and all in vain Room I soomtime thy Augur chosen was Not euermore shall frendly fortune thee Fauour Antonius once the day shall coom When her deare wights by cruell spight thus slain Uictorious Room shall at thy hands require Me likes therwhile go see the hoped heauen Speech had he left and therwith hee good man His throte preparde and held his hed vnmouedâ— His hasting to those fates the very knightes Be lothe to see and rage rebated when They his bare neck beheld and his horeheyres Scant could they hold the teares that forth gan burst And almost fell from bloody hands the swoords Onely the stern Herennius with grym looke Dastards why stand you still he sayth and straight Swaps of the hed with his presumptuous yron Ne with that slaughter yet is he not fild Fowl shame on shame to heape is his delite Wherefore the handes also doth hee of smyte Which durst Antonius life so liuely paynt Him yeldyng strayned goste from welkin hye With lothy chere lord Phebus gan behold And in black clowd they say long hid his hed The latinâ— Muses and the Grayes they wept And for his fall eternally shall weep And lo hertpersing Pitho straunge to tell Who had to him suffisde both sense and words When so he spake and drest with nectar soote That flowyng toung when his windpipe disclosde Fled with her fleeyng frend and out alas Hath left the earth ne will no more return Popilius flyeth therwhile and leauing there The senslesse stock a grizely sight doth bear Unto Antonius boord with mischief fed Of M. T. Gicero FOr Tullie late a tomb I gan prepare When Cynthie thus bad mee my labour spare Such maner things becoom the ded quoth hee But Tullie liues and styll alyue shall bee N. G. A ALas so al things now 5 Although I had a chek 10 As oft as I behold 12 Auising the bright 22 Alas madam for steling 23 Accused though I be 29 All in thy loke my life 34 A face that shold content 35 A lady gaue me a gift 42 A spending hand 47 Alas that euer death 62 A sâ—udent at his boke 64 As cypresse tree 74 Among dame natures 77 All ye that frendship 78 As I haue ben so wil 79 At libertie I sit and see 80 As laurel leaues 83 A kinde of cole is 97 A man may liue thrise 100 Ah loue how waiward 102 A cruel Tiger 107 Ah libertie now haue I 107 Adieu desert how art 108 Alas when shal I ioy 112 B BRitle beautie that 5 Because I stil kept 21 Behold loue thy power 28 By fortune as I lay 55 Behold my picture 70 Bewail with me 70 C CEsar when that the. 21 Cruel vnkinde 74 Complain we may 96 D DIuers thy death 16 Disdain me not 31 Desire alas my maister 41 Driuen by desire I did 44 Death and the king 78 Do all your dedes by 97 Do way your phisick 106 E ECh beast can choose 14 Eche man me telth 21 Euer my hap is slack 36 Experience now doth 67 Ech thing I see hath 69 F FRom Tuscan came 5 Farewell the hart of 24 From these hye hilles 25 For want of will in wo. 31 Farewell loue 37 For shamefast harme 43 Full faire and white she is 61 For that a restlesse hed 69 Flee from the prease 82 For loue Apollo 8â— False may he be 83 From worldly wo 99 Farewell thou frosen hart 111 For Tully late 117 G GOod ladies ye that 9 Geue place ye louers 10 Girt in my giltlesse gown 13 Go burning sighes 38 Geue place ye ladies 67 H HE is not dead that 29 How oft haue Iâ— 36 Holding my peace 107 I IN Cyprus springes 5 I neuer saw my L. lay 6 In winters iust return 8 If care do cause men cry 15 In the rude age 17 If waker carâ— 20 I finde no peace 21 It may be good 23 In faith I wote not 24 If euer man might him 32 If amorous faith 36 It burneth yet alas 40 I see that chaunce hath 41 If thou wilt mighty be 43 In court to serue 44 In doutfull brest 45 If euer wofull man 50 If right be rackt 51 In Grece sometime 52 It is no fire 62 I lent my loue to losse 64 In seking rest 66 I see there is no sort 71 I lothe that I did loue 72 If it wer so that God 75 In fredom was my fantasy 76 I rede how Troilus 81 I heard when fame 84 I ne can close in short 85 It was the day on which 90 I that Ulisses yeres 9â— If that thy wicked wife 99 I would I found not 104 I sâ—â—ly Haw 107 In bayes I bost 109 In court as I beheld 110 Imps of king Ioâ—â— 113 In working well 113 L LOue 〈◊〉 liueth 4 Layâ—â—n my quiet bed 18 Lux my fair falcon 35 Loue â—ortune my minde 36 Like vnto these vnmesu 36 Like as the bird with 43 Like as the Lark 52 Lo here the end of man 56 Like as the brake 78 Like as the rage of raine 80 Like the Phenix a bird 88 Loe ded he liues 89 Loe here lieth G. 98 M MArtial the thinges 16 My Ratclif when 18 My galley charged 22 Madame withouten 23 Myne old dere enmy 25 Maruell no'more altho 27 My loue to scorne 29 My lute awake 33 My hart I gaue thee 37 Mistrustfull mindes 40 My mothers maides 45 Mine own I. Poins 46 My youthfull yeres 70 N NAture that gaue the bee 34 Nature that taught 68 Not like a God came 95 No ioy haue I. 104 Now clattering armes 115 O O Happy dames that may 8 O lothsome
be the best In cage â—hraldome or by the Hawke opprest And which to chuse make plain conclusion By losse of life libertie or life by prison Against hourders of money FOr shamfast harm of great and hatefull nede In depe dispaire as did a wretch go With ready corde out of his life to spede His stumbling foote did finde an hoorde lo Of gold I say where he â—reparde this dede And in eschange he lefâ— the corde tho He that had hid the gold and found it not Of that he found he shapte his neck a knot Discription of a gonne VUlcane begat me Minerua me taught Nature my mother Craft nourisht me yere by yereâ— Thre bodies are my foode my strength is in naught Anger wrath wast and noyce are my children derâ— Gesse friend what I am and how I am wraught Monster of sea or of land or of els where Know me and vse me and I may thee defend And if I be thine enmy I may thy life end wiate being in prison to Brian SYghes are my foode my drink are my teares Clinking of fetters would such musick craue â—tink and close ayre away my life it weares Poore innocence is all the hope I haue Rain winde or wether iudge I by mine eares Malice assaultes that righteousnesse should haue Sure am I Brian this wound shall heale again But yet alas the skarre shall still remain Of dissembling wordes THroughout the world if it wer sought Faire wordes inough a man shall finde They be good chepe they cost right nought Their substance is but onely winde But well to say and so to mene That swete acord is seldom sene Of the meane and sure estate SLond who so list vpon the slipper wheele Of hye astate and let me here reioyce And vse my life in quietnesse eche dele Unknowen in court that hath the wanton toyes In hidden place my time shal slowly passe And when my yeres be past withouten noyce Let me dye olde after the common trace For gripes of death doth he to hardly passe That knowen is to all but to him selfe alas He dyeth vnknowen dased with dreadfull face The courtiers life IN court to serue decked with fresh aray Of sugred meates feling the swete repast The life in bankets and sundry kindes of plaâ— Amid the presse of worldly lookes to waste Hath with it ioynde oft times such bitter taste That who so ioyes such kinde of life to hold In prison ioyes fettred with cheines of gold Of disapointed purpose by negligence OF Carthage he that worthy warriour Could ouercome but could not vse his chance And I likewise of all my long endeuour The sharpe conquest though fortune did aduance Ne could I vse The hold that is geuen ouer I vnposest so hangeth now in balance Of warre my peace reward of all my paine At Mountzon thus I restlesse rest in Spaine Of his returne from Spaine TAgus farewell that Westward with thy stremes Turnes vp the graines of gold already tried For I with spurre and saile go seke the temmes Gaineward the sunne that sheweth her welthy pride And to the town that Brutus sought by dreames Like bended mone that leanes her lusty side My king my countrey I seke for whom I liue O mighty Ioue the windes for this me giue Of sodaine trusting DRiuen by desire I did this dede To danger my self without cause why To trust thuntrue not like to spede To speake and promise faithfully But now the proofe doth verifie That who so trusteth ere he know Doth hurt himselfe and please his foe Of the mother that eat her childe at the seige of Ierusalem IN doubtfull breast whiles motherly pity With furious famine standeth at debate The mother sayth O chyld vnhappy Returne thy bloud where thou hadst milke of late Yeld me those limmes that I made vnto thee And enter there where thou were generate For one of body against all nature To an other must I make sepulture Of the meane and sure estate writen to Iohn Poins MY mothers maides when they do sowe and spinne They sing a song made of the feldishe mouse That for bicause her liuelod was but thinne Would nedes go se her townish sisters house She thought her selfe endured to greuous paine The stormy blastes her caue so sore dyd sowse That when the furrowes swimmed with the raine She must lie colde and wet in sory plight And worse then that bare meat there did remaine To comfort her when she her house had dight Sometime a barly corne sometime a beane For which she laboured hard both day and night In haruest time while she might go and gleane And when her store was stroyed with the floode Then weleaway for she vndone was cleane Then was she faine to take in stede of fode Slepe if she might her honger to begile My sister quod she hath a liuing good And hence from me she dwelleth not a mile In colde and storme she lieth warme and dry In bed of downe the durt doth not defile Her tender fote she labours not as I Richely she fedes and at the richemans cost And for her meat she nedes not crane nor cry By sea by land of delicates the most Her cater sekes and spareth for no perell She fedes on boyle meat bake meat and on rost And hath therefore no whit of charge nor trauell And when she list the licour of the grape Doth glad her hart tyll that her belly swell And at this iourney makes she but a iape So forth she goes trusting of all this wealth With her sister her part so for to shape That if she might there kepe her self in health To liue a Lady while her life doth last And to the dore nowe is she come by stealth And with her fote anone she scarpes full fast Thother for fear durst not well scarse appeare Of euery noyse so was the wretch agast At last she asked softly who was there And in her language as well as she could Pepe quod the other sister I am here Peace quod the towne mouse why speakest thou so loude And by the hand she toke her faire and well Welcome quod she my sister by the rode She feasted her that ioye it was to tell The fare they hadde they dranke the wine so clere And as to purpose now and then iâ— fell She chered her with how sister what chere Amid this ioye be fell a sory chance That weleaway the stranger bought full dere The fare she had For as she lookt a scance Under a stole she spied two stemyng eyes In a rounde head wyth sharpe eares in Fraunce Was neuer mouse so ferde for the vnwise Had not ysene such a beast before Yet had nature taught her after her gise To know her fo and dread him euermore The townemouse fâ—ed she knew whither to go The other had no shift but wonders sore Ferde of her life at home she wisht her tho And to the dore alas as she did skippe The heauen it would lo and eke her