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heart_n beauty_n eye_n love_n 4,210 5 5.2173 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A01740 A posie of gilloflowers eche differing from other in colour and odour, yet all sweete. By Humfrey Gifford gent. Gifford, Humphrey.; Tolomei, Claudio, 1492-1555. aut 1580 (1580) STC 11872; ESTC S108637 86,923 163

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Gratitude she was That thākful Dame whose custom is frō friend to friend to passe I tooke my pen in hand with purpose to declare The Circumstance of this my dreame w t cloyd my hed with care Herein also I thought her precepts to obey And al the plot of thy deserts most largely to display But when my dreame was done I found such litle store Of paper that I could not haue wherin to write the more ¶ One that had a frowarde Husband makes complaynt to her mother Written in French by Clement Marott AND is there any wight aliue That rightly may compare Or goe beyond me silly wretch In sadnesse and in care Some such may be but this I say One must goe farre to séeke To finde a woman in this worlde Whose griefe to mine is like Or hath so iust a cause of moane In dumps of déepe despite I linger on my loathsome life Depriud of all delight Men say the Phoenix is a birde Whose like cannot bée found I am the Phoenix in this worlde Of that those care doth wound And he that workes me all this woe May be the Phoenix well Of all enraged senslesse wightes That in the earth doe dwell I moane not here as Dido did Being stryken at the heart As woorthy Virgill doeth recorde With dint of Cupids dart Nor in my playnts some Louer name As Sappho did of yore But husband is the cause héereof Which makes my griefe the more For Louers if they like vs not We may cast of agayne But with our husbandes good or bad Till death we must remayne I doe not speake these wordes as if His death I did desire But rather that it might please God His thoughts so to enspire That he might vse me as he ought Or as I doe deserue Since that I him as duety byndes Doe honour loue and serue And séemes it not desert thinke you At his commaund to haue The beauty greate and other giftes that nature to me gaue Ist not desert such one with him In loyall bed to lie As alwayes hath most faythfull byn And will be till shée die To looke on him with chéerefull face to call him Spouse and friend To coll and kisse all this hée hath With franke and willing mynde And all thinges els as God commaunds And duety doth allowe Yet am I dealt with at his handes Alas I know not howe Hée thanklesse man doth ill for good Agaynst all right and lawe Hée had of me good fruitfull Corne And payes mée chaffe and straw For méeke and humble curtesie Fierce cruelty hée geues For loyalty disloyalty And that which most mée grieues Is when in swéete and humble sorte I come to make my moane His heart no more is mollified Then is the Marble stone The cruell Lyon ready bent With pawes and téeth to teare When that the silly Hounde doeth yéelde His malice doeth forbeare When Attalus the Romayne host Did erst subdue in field His heart to mercy was enclinde Assoone as they did yéelde Blacke Pluto eke the Prince of hell Vneasie to bée woone When Orpheus had playde on harpe His rankour all was done By swéetnesse and by curtesie What is not wrought alas Nerethlesse the swéetenesse Feminine Which others all doth passe Can nothing doe before the eyes Of my hardhearted féere The more that I submit my selfe The straunger is his chéere So that in wrongfull cruelty And spite he doth excel The Lions wilde the Tyrants stoute And monsters eke of hel As ofte as I reuolue in mynde The greatnesse of my harmes I thinke how foorth the Fowler goes with swéete and pleasant charmes To take the birds which once betrayd He eyther killes straight way Or kéepes them pende in pensiue cage That flie no more they may And so at first I taken was By his swéete fléering face And now depriude of ioy alas Am handled in like case Now if the birdes as some auouch Doe curse his kéeper still In language his why curse I not The Author of my yll That griefe doeth euer greater harme Which hidden lies in brest Then that which to some faithfull friend By speaking is exprest My sorowes then shall bée reuealde Some stedfast friend vnto My tongue thereby vnto my heart A pleasure greate may doe But vnto whom shoulde I disclose My bondage and my thrall Vnto my spouse No surely no My gaynes shoulde bee but small Alas to whom then shoulde I moane Should I some Louer choose Who in my sorowes and my griefes As partner I might vse Occasions great do counsell me To put this same in vre Mine honour and mine honestie Forbid such rashnes sure Wherefore ye louers al adew Vnto some other goe I will obserue my vowed fayth Though to my greatest foe To whome shal I powre forth my plaints To you most louing mother For they by dutie do belong To you and to none other To you I come to séeke reliefe With moyst and wéeping eies Euen as the heart with thirst opprest Vnto the fountaine hies If any salue in all the world may serue to cure my wound Dame Nature sayes vndoubtedly In you it must be found Now if some succour may be had Assisted let me be But if it lie not in your power Yet spend some teares with me That yours with mine mine with yours Might so kéepe moyst the flowre That erst procéeded from your wombe And wasteth euery houre His Friend W. C. to Mistres F. K. whom he calls his Captaine AS Souldiers good obey their captaines will And readie are to goe to ride or runne And neuer shrinke their duety to fulfill But what they byd it by and by is done So rest I yours good Captayne to dispose When as you please to combate with your foes Your foes sayd I alas what may they be That haue the heart to harme so swéete a wight Who dare attempt to try his force with thée Shall conquerd be ere he begin to fight Let thousand foes agaynst thee come in field Thy beauty great will make them all to yéeld To yéeld sayd I nay rather would they choose By thée subdude to liue in bondage still Then lead such life as Conquerors doe vse In thy disgrace and wanting thy good will But strike the drumme let the trumpet sound To take thy part whole legions wil be found So many eares as euer heard thée speake So many eyes as haue thy feature vewde So many handes thy puysance hath made weake So many heartes thy beauty hath subdued Ech of these eares ech eye ech hand ech heart Swéet Captain stil are prest to take thy part Ech eare to heare when enuy séekes thy foyle Ech eye to spy who worketh thine anoy Ech hand with blade to conquere them in broyle Ech gladsome heart for victory to ioy Thus euery part the trusty friend will play For thy behoofe whom God preserue alway The complaynt of a sinner LIke as the théefe in prison cast With wofull wayling mones When hope of pardon cleane is
death but mercie doe require defie Defie such thinges as worke thy soules decay the diuell The diuel so shall léese his chiefe desire If thou If thou wilt spend thy dayes in great content praise God Praise God ech houre serue him in feare and dread with hearte With heart contrite thy former sinnes lament and minde And minde hence forth a better life to lead Great ioyes Great ioyes the Lord as his pure word doth say in heauen In heauen aboue for good men hath preparde thy soule Thy soule when that this life shall passe away shall finde Shall finde such blisse as cannot bée declarde The life of man metaphorically compared to a shippe sayling on the seaes in a tempest HAste homewardes man draw néerer to the shore The skies doe scowle the windes doe blow amaine The raged rockes with rumbling noyse doe rore The foggie clowdes doe threaten stormes of raine Ech thing foreshewes a tempest is at hand Hoyst vp thy sayles and haste to happy land In worldly seaes thy silly ship is tost With waues of woe besette on euery side Blowne héere and there in daunger to bée lost Darke clowdes of sinne doe cause thée wander wide Vnlesse thy God pitie some on thée take On rockes of rueth thou néedes must shipwrack make Cut downe the mast of rancour and debate Vnfraight the shippe of all vnlawfull wares Cast ouer boorde the packes of hoorded hate Pumpe out fowle vice the cause of many cares If that some léeke it make thée stand in doubt Repentaunce serues to stoppe the water out Let Gods pure word thy line and compasse bée And stedfast fayth vse thou in anckors stéede Lament thy sinnes then shalt thou shortly sée That power diuine will helpe thée forth at néede Fell Sathan is chiefe rular of these seas Hée séekes our wracke hée doth these tempestes rayse In what wée may let vs alwayes represse The furious waues of lust and fond desire A quiet calme our conscience shall possesse if wée doe that which dutie doeth require By godly life in fine obtaine wée shall the porte of blisse to which God send vs all A dolefull Dumpe WHo so doth mone and lackes a mate to bée partaker of his woe And will discourse of his estate Let him and I together goe And I will make him graunt in fine his griefe to bée farre lesse then mine Perhappes hée wil to win the best paint forth what pangs oppresse his minde How that hée féeles no quiet rest how fortune is to him vnkind And how hée pines in secréet griefe and findes no meanes for his reliefe These and such like a number will alleadge to witnes their distresse Some rolle vp stones against the hill with Sisiphus some eke expresse That like to Tantalus they fare and some with Yxion doe compare But I not onely féele the smart of al those euilles rehearsed before But tast the forment in my heart of thousand times as many more So that the worst of their annoyes Is best and chiefest of my ioyes I neuer fed on costly meate Since that this griefe opprest mée first Dole is the dainties that I eate And trickling teares doe coole my thirst Care is my caruing knife God wot Which dayly séekes to cut my throte Muse not that héere I secret kéepe The cause that first procurde my griefe What doeth it boote a man to wéepe When that his teares finde no reliefe Contentes mée onely this repose That death ere long will end my woes In praise of the contented minde IF all the ioyes that worldly wightes possesse Were throughly scand and pondred in their kindes No man of wit but iustly must confesse That they ioy most that haue contented mindes And other ioyes which beare the name of ioyes Are not right ioyes but sunneshines of anoyes In outward view wée sée a number glad Which make a shew as if mirth did abound Whē pinching grief within doth make them sad And many a one in these dayes may bée had Which faintly smile to shroud their sorowes so When oftentimes they pine in secréet woe But euery man that holdes himselfe content And yéeldes God thankes as dutie doth require For all his giftes that hée to vs hath sent And is not vext with ouer great desire And such I say most quietly doe sléepe When fretting cares doth others waking kéepe What doth auaile huge heapes of shining golde Or gay attyre or stately buildinges braue If worldly pelfe thy heart in bondage holde Not thou thy goodes thy goodes make thée their slaue For gréedie men like Tantalus doe fare In midst of wealth they néedie are and bare A warie héede that thinges go not to losse Doth not amisse so that it kéepe the meane But still to toyle and moyle for worldly drosse And tast no ioy nor pleasure for our paine In carke and care both day and night to dwell Is nothing els but euen a very hell Wherefore I say as erst I did beginne Contented men enioy the greaetst blisse Let vs content our selues to flye from sinne And still abide what Gods good pleasure is If ioy or paine if wealth or want befall Let vs bée pleasde and giue God thankes for all In the praise of Friendship REueale O tongue the secretes of my thought Tel forth the game that perfect friendship brings Expresse what ioyes by her to man are brought Vnfolde her prayse which glads all earthly things If one might say in earth a heauen to bée It is no doubt where faythfull friendes agrée To all estates true friendship is a stay To euery wight a good and welcome guest Our life were death were shée once tane away Consuming cares would harbour in our brest Fowle malice eke would banish al delight And puffe vs vp with poyson of despight If that the séedes of enuie and debate Might yéelde no fruite but wither and decay No canckred mindes would hoorde vp heapes of hate No hollow hearts dissembling partes should play No clawback then would fawne in hope of méede Such life to lead were perfect life in déede But nowadayes desire of worldly pelfe With all estates makes friendship very colde Few for their friendes ech shifteth for himselfe If in thy purse thou hast good store of golde Full many a one thy friendship will imbrace Thy wealth once spent they turne away their face Let vs still pray vnto the Lord aboue For to relent our hearts as hard as stone That through the world one knot of loyall loue In perfect trueth might linke vs all in one Then should wée passe this life without annoyes And after death possesse eternall ioyes A commendation of Peace WHen boyling wrath perturbs mās troubled brest Outraging will bids reasons lore adue Turmoyling cares bereaue all quiet rest And hastie yre makes harmefull happes ensue Great stormes of strife are raisd through dire debate But golden peace preserues the quiet state A gift diuine than precious pearle more worth Is blessed peace to discord deadly foe Most plenteous fruits this