wrought You now are dust conâ—umde as t were to nought Though conquering War doth make in time to come Many things florish and with Fame to rise Yet in the end when all is past and done Time doth All this consume in spitefull wise All Mâ—â—uments all Monarchs that haue been Time in the end destroyes and weares out cleane And since t is so I will contented liue In discontent for if that Time can make An end of All and end to each thing giue May be some order he for me will take May be in th' end when I shall tried bee To th' vtmost I my guerdon iust may see Roma ALBA thinkst thou thy Month shall still be MAY And that thy Colour fresh still faire will be That Time and Fortune will not weare away Beautie which God and Nature lends to thee Yes yes that white and red thy Cheekes now show Shall quicklie change and blacke and yellow grow The Giniper the longer it doth flower The older still it waxeth bowing still And that sweete face of thine which now hath power Whole worlds with wondering at the same to fill Shall though it now sauns blemish be a Staine Hereafter with thicke wrinkeled Clifts remaine Great care to keepe this Beautie fraile must be Which we God knowes a small time doe enioy Doe what we can we lose it suddenle Why then being courted shouldst thou seeme so coy Fortunes wings made of Times featherâ—â—eere stay But eare thou them canst measure flit away Then be not ouer hard like changeles Fate But let my Cries force thee at last relent Doe not oppose thy selfe too obstinate Gainst him whose time to honor thee is spent Ah let me speake the trueth though somewhat bold Though now th' art young thou one day must be old Riuers of gorie blood into the Sea In sted of Waters shall most swiftlie runne The hugie Ocean drie as land shall be And darke as pitch shall shew the glistering Sunne LOVE shall of Loue and kindenes be depriude And vastie world sauns people shall abide The Night shall lightsome be as Day most plaine The Heauens with their coloured cloudes shall fall Fore LOVE in me a new IDEA frame Or my firme Heart from ALBA alter shall Ah fore I change let horror stop my breth Vnworthie Her vnworthie of this earth As heretofore so still I will her loue Nere shall my constant Heart lie languishing In hope another Beautie for to proue Which flitting fancie to mine eyes might bring My faâ—â—h Acanthus like shall flourish greene Which th'older t is the fresher still is seene I am no glasse but perfect Diamound My constant minde holdes still where first it tooke Though not my selfe my soule 's in English ground ITALIANS lookes but not there LOVES I brooke The Globelike World is round and hath no end Such is my Faith to her my Fairest frend Fano Gold 's changde to Lead and Emmeralds into Glasse Lillies proue Weedes and Roses Nettles bee No harmles Beasts now through the fields doe passe To feede on Hill or Valleys shade we see Wilde Tigers fierce and rauenous Lions fell In open Plaine and cooly Groues doe dwell In stead of milde and pleasing Accents sweete From hollow Places fearfull Voices sound Eccho amongst the craggie rocks doth weepe And heauie makes her noyse with sighs rebound Riuers against their wonted course do runne The Moone lookes black eclipsed is the Sunne The Sallow shakes his boughes and inward grieues The Cypresse shew'th as if he sickly were And melancholy bares his lothed leaues A signe presaging some great cause of feare Phoebus no more doth combe his tresses fâ—â—re But careles lets them feltred hang in th'aâ—re Ghosts through the Citie ghastfully appeere And hideous shapes the mindes of men afright No Day we haue but darknes euery where And turnd the World is topsie turuy quite The cause of all this change is my faire Loue Since to the countrie hence she doth remoue On bended knees low groueling on the ground Before the CRVEL FAIRE I prostrate lay But what I sought of Her could not be found My kinde request was dasht with ruffe Denay With me she sharply gan expostulate Nor would she once pitie my hard Estate Teares I did shed but teares I shed in vaine Vowes I did make my Vowes she did reiect Prayers I offred Prayers she did disdaine Presents I sent but them sh'would not accept If teares vowes prayers nor presents can doe good What then remaines but for to offer blood Then Cruell take this Blood Oblations Fee Which at thy shrine from Hart I sacrifice I know t will doe thee good and liketh thee And I bestow it in most hartie wise Neuer â—o much I of my life did make But that I could dispend it for thy sake What needst thou then ad water to the Seas Beames to the Sunne or light vnto the Day When I more readie am if so thou please My selfe to kill then thou my life to slay Ah let me know thy minde thus vex not still A kinde of Pitie t is quickly to kill In stately Bed twixt sheetes more white then snow Where late my Pearle mine ALBA faire did lie I restlesse vp and downe tosse to and fro Whilst trickling teares distill from blubbred eye Ah gentle sleepe do thou deuise some Meane For comfort mine whilst I of her shall dreame You downy Pillowes you which but of late Her daintie selfe did kindly entertaine Once of two louing Bodies charge do take By your soft yeelding call her back againe For she is gone and Troynouant hath left And being gone my hart with heâ— hath rest For both of vs here 's roume enough to see We bâ—th in rest with ease may here remaine And heâ—e two soules vnited one shall bee Two bodies ioynd together One not twaine But t is in vaine for were she here I know Though you agreede agree she would not so Yet call her back and pray to her for me For I am hoarse with praying ouer long· Ah to no purpose t is to call I see She cannot heare she too too farre is gon Yet will I still her praises haroldise And mongst the beautious Saints her canonise Heare me a Martyr for religious Loue Thou Faire Tormentor Motiue of my paine All Racks and Tortors gainst my patience proue And when th' hast done begin afresh againe Wearie shalt thou be of tormenting me Before I grieued at these plagues will be Too deare I prise thy beautie to repent Or wish I had not such sower stormes endur'd Though I thy hard hart finde nere to relent Custome and time to woes haâ—e me inur'd What ill so great but I would willing take And beare the brunt assur'd of thy sweet sake The sweet remembrance of thy sight of yore Th' only companion is of my deare life Thy presence was which absent I adoâ—e My paradise and place of ioy most rife So I alâ—ne am not though None 's with mee And was in Heauen when I thy
ride Creator of all Creatures that do liue Whose Loue was such as thou for Man hast dide Though he thee hated skorned and did grieue Vouchsafe to view and rue my desprate state And me once more from sinne regenerate Ah looke vpon me with milde Mercies eye Clense me with purest Water of thy Grace Remember not how I haue gone awry Since I renounce to runne more such a Race Ah glorious Spouse thy Beautie I desire For now to Heâ—uen not Earth my Thoughts aspire Griefe that was once farre off remou'd from me Begins as now for to approach me nere Clad in his Weedes which Black and fearfâ—ll be And crownde with fatall Cypresse doth appeare With wringing Hands he doth bewaile my ruth And mournes that I haue straide so wide froÌ„ Truth Reason the Cochman to my wandring Thought As in a Christall glasse doth shew most plaine My gazing eyes how I haue fondly wrought Spending my Time in Toyes and Fancies vaine He shew'th me now another Nouell LOVE Another path wherein my feete to moue As One who in his Trauaile doth espie By chance a hideous Serpent or foule Snake That long before vnseene did closely lie Behinde some stub where he his Nest did make Shaking his three-forkt hissing tongue apace Quickly himselfe retireth from that place So I by louing wrong vnhappie Wight Hauing amisse straide long time and awrie When I at last of Death had but a sight Although farre off yet backward gan I hie Backward I came with hastie speedie foote Leauing that Course which I at first had tooke Thou wâ—ndring Spirit to whom Ioue doth commit Of this my Body fraile the gouernment Why gadding thus from Truth so farre dost flit Why are thine eyes with wilfull blindnes pent Why dost not marke what Danger is at hand What damned Death doth at thine elbow stand Ah be not flattred with this poysenous LOVE But call thy former Wits to thee againe Those wicked Thoughts roote out and hence remoue Whilst Life in thee to do it doth remaine What Mortall is by mortall Death suppresse Thy Gaine shall be the more thy Losse the lesse Heauen once thy Mansion was and dwelling place Now Hell thou seekst by running thus astray Vnhappie Soule to be in such a case So wilfully to seeke thine owne Decay Thou woundst thy selfe to God a Rebbell th' art And only striu'st to please the World in Hart. Alas in whom now dost thou put thy trust On whom dost thou relie or hope on now Ah turne and still liue shalt thou with the Iust Ah turne againe and trebble blessed thou Thou then shalt be whereas the Blessed are Pure Soule mongst Soules mongst Stars a brightsome Starre What 's God The Sourse of Goodnes and the Sprinâ— What is that Goodnes Such a Goodnes sound As aye increaseth without perishing How is it made In frame and fashion Round Like to a Forme that in it doth containe His End and his Beginning in the same This Goodnes first from whence did it proceede Three proper Veines there be that forth do runne Out of one sacred Sea from Heauen decreede Which coâ—passe doth All what so ere sees Sunne Cannot we see it This ESSENCE most Diuine No Mortall Man hath seene at any time How can it then be if it neere be seene That iâ— our mindes oft lifteth vp on High As if in Vision we in Heauen had beene It makes vs view such Wonders with Faiths eye With Faithâ— cleere eye which shines to vs so bright As vnto Heauen it is our Guide and Light What is that Faith A Gift which if Defect In him that firme beleeueth be not found It blindfold leades him yet with steps direct Vnto that place where perfect Ioyes abound Where God the Father Sonne and Holy Ghost Doe raigne in Glorie great of Mightiest most Thou LIFE which Life art calde and yet art Death Thou DEATH which Death art termde and yet art Life Say which of you maintaine my vâ—tall breath Within thiâ— wretched Vale of Worldly strife Say which prolongs my Life most of you Twaine Or thou LIFE or thou DEATH say both the same I more then LIFE straight DEATH doth answer make Nay I quoth LIFE farre more then DEATH to me And for this Cause this only Name I take Of LIFE which by my meanes alone can be Because whilst I within thy Body liue Death no way can thee hinder hurt or grieue But I by cutting off DEATH straight replies This slender Thred whereby Men runne their race Bring euery Faithfull soule in friendly wise Where he a better path for aye may trace Making him leade a Life eternallie A LIFE that still doth liue and neuer die Wherefore what ere he be that meanes to ioy This other LIFE that is Celestiall He muâ—â— not scorne to scape from worlds annoy Nor thinke it much to come when DEATH shall call For DEATH noâ— LIFE doth help vs at the end LIFE is our Foe but DEATH our dearest Friend All fraile most happie Day in blessed wise A Day of Griefe yet Honorable Day In which the Father did for Sacrifise Offer his Sonne to saue Man from decay Clensing our Soules defilde with sinfull mind With Innocent with pure and pretious Blood Vpon that Crosse now sacred then Prophane He â—ide for vs who could not dye indeede Whilst closing his fayre eyes for Mortals gaine He opened all the Gates of Heauen with speede Restoring them that Kingdome we had lost VVhich nothing Vs but Him too dearly cost Not his but our Due was it for to Die Those Torments which he meekly did endure His Crowne of Thornes his Wounds done spitefully That Cursed Scourge that spilt his Blood so pure All these to Vs and not to him did long Yet for our sakes our Christ himselfe did wrong Then if for pitie Graues do open wide Hils cleaue and Marble pillars rent in twaine If Heauens themselues their Lights for griefe do hide And if the Sunne for sorow clipst remaine VVhat Mortall hart is there that doth not breake VVhen he but thinks or of this Day doth speake That Vertue through whose power rulde is my soule Only through Vertuous Loue from Loue set free Takes force afresh as one that would controule And finding strong himselfe within to bee Vnbridled Will he seekes to bridle now And tries to breake what fore he scarce could bow New Lords new Lawes New Customes breake the Olde And where before a dark and mistie clowde My minde as in a prison did infolde Now is it loosde from out that gloomie shrowde My Hart doth iump euen iust with his desire And by their Eye know both what to require My watchfull Soule recouered hath well nie The former state in which he liued in And being free doth call to memorie VVhat bound he did forget through wretched sin VVhilâ—â— for his life repentant he attends Immortally to liue for his amends Not any part there is of Bodie mine But filled is with true not false Delight Yet doth it grieue
hath no power ouer my Thoughts or Minde VVhich is the cause I count my selfe most free Though I my selfe in greatest Bondage finde I can so feede on Fancie and subdue Enuie by sweet Imagination true No sweeter Musick to the Miserable Than is Despayre therefore the more I feele Of bitternes of sorrow sower and fell The more of Sweetnes it doth seeme to yeeld Vaine ' esteeme my life all libertie Since I do want mine ALBAS Companie Vse Miserie hath made familiar now VVith me that I count sorrow chiefest Ioy And him the welcomst Guest I do alow That saddest tales can tell of bloodiest Noy Then Cruell think what life I still haue led Since so in post away from me th' art fled Thrice precious purse by daintie Hand ywrought Of Beauties First Borne Fauours rightfull Heire Not for a world of wealth purchast or bought But freely giuen for Loue by ALBA faire Giuen to me vnworthie of the same As one not meriting so great a Gaine T is not the richnes hereof though t is much Nor rarenes of the worke surpassing skill That I account of though that it be such As euery eye with masement it doth fill But cause t' was made by that Alconquering Hand Whose becke eueÌ„ Loues own self doth countermaÌ„d Dan Fortunatus Bagge which Histories Affirme endles to be for golden store And that it helde of Quoyne Infinities To this my purse is needy base and poore Golde in the inside onely of his purse waâ— seene But mine hath alwaies Golde without and 〈◊〉 Pure gold t is wrought with yet her Haires more bright Saft is the Silke more fast her snowie skinne Orient the Perle yet are her teeth more white The Cullerâ— rare her cheekes the prise tho winne Ah precious Purse where what I doe beholde Are Cullours rare fine Perle saft Silke pure Golde Warme showers raine fast from forth my blubbred eyes My heauie Thoughts are Clowdes â—eplete with woes Hot liuely Flames from out my breast arise My skalding sighs the wind 's that forth them blowes Fire burning Cancer and Aquarius cold Ore me their powers predominant do hold The flames themsâ—lues vp to the heauens lift Where they by thousands round about doe turne The waters runne like to a Torrent swift Hence comes it that my selfe I drowne and burne By reason of two spitefull Qualities Moysture and Heate my life in danger lies My teares a great streame make they so abound A quenchles burning this my secret Fire Hope doth despaire and there her selfe hath drownde And Hart to cinders burnes through her Desire Fancie 〈◊〉 frolike and doth still reuiue Reason's so sick not long shee le keepe aliue ALBA my Teares accounteth as a Toy And for a sport mine ardent Heat she holds For in her eyes Cocitus me to noy And Phlegeton in breast she fierce enfolds Thus she my Hart doth still anatomise With keenest rasor of her Crueltise Haires louely Browne immur'd with pearle and gold How ill fits you this Ribbon Carnatine Since I no more your Mistris now behold Of my disaster most vnlucky signe Who to me gaue this Bracelet for a FAVOVR A work by Beautie framde through LOVES true labour How often would she bout my Wrist still prie And vnderminde me by deuise as t were Making a shew of Doubt and Ielousie As if I it forgot bout me to beare But now I feare me through her staying ore long Both LOVE Her self and Me she much doth wrong VVho euer saw a Beautie such so faire Lodgde in a subiect so vnconstant found VVho euer saw more loyall Louer rare To â—uch hard Fortune causeles to be bound Ah why is not as is her face her Minde Th'one's Faire the other I Forgetfull finde Then louely Haires my dearest Harts best Ease You must from Handwrist mine to Hatband black There must you bide though me it doth displease Since whom I would I most of all do lack This sable place doth fit you best to mourne Where you vnseene shall lie till she returne â—h happie Handkèrcher that keepst the signe As only Monument vnto my Fame How deare my Loue was to sweet ALBA mine VVhen so to shew my Loue she did me blame Relique of LOVE I do not enuie thee Though whom thy Master cannot thou dost see Only let me intreat this Fauour small VVhen in her chamber all alone by chance Open her pretie Casket for some work she shall And hap her eye on thee vnwares to glance Ah then the colour of her face but marke And thou by that shalt know her inward hart If she shall blush and grieue thee so to view And wistly cast on thee a piteous eye It is a signe her loue continues true And that her faith she doth not falsifie Ah theâ— a fresh her faith more firme to moue Bleed thou againe for to reuiue her Loue. But if she seeing thee no account doth make Flinging thee here and there without regard Know then expired is my louing Date My Hope deceiu'd my Fortune ouer hard Yet if she doth but sighing say to thee Saftly Farewell deare SERVANT happie mee Those ebbon windowes sweete those cheerfull eyes Where LOVE at LAVVGH and sweete looke on doth play Are on the sudden changde in strangie wise And do Disdaines Ensigne gainst me display Darke now they seeme and sower ore passing bad Making my life seeme to me black and sad Those cheerfull eyes which wont to comfort me And to mine hangrie soule yeeld nourishment Denie me food nor will they pleased be But mew me vp as starueling closely pent My walks I vâ—de which faire and easie were Are stopt with blood-drawing braÌ„bles euery where My crased hart thus skorned for his Loue And plagude with proud disdaine and sdainfull Pride Waâ—les so as would a Rock though flintie moue Nor â—etter course hath this Disgrace to bide Then sighs and Teares which forth he seâ—ds apace And damned like still begs but nere finds grace Sweet stay of my weake tottring life nie falne â—alme to my wounds and Cordiall to my griefe â—â—ght to my darknes to my storme milde Calme Ease to my paine and to my want Reliefe Ah who hath now and that so suddenly Of pitie thee depriu'd to make me die Poore wasted Hart that wandrest not astray Although the PEARLE her orient colour change Thou which in thy first Faith vnstaind dost stay Although she from her plighted vow doth range Ah where are now thy cheerfull daies of Hope Thy Liues line Loue what wretched haÌ„d hath broke Alas poore soule how badly art thou vsde For thy much louing louing ouer long Causeles without desert to be refusde And for thy right to be repaid with wrong Fond do betimes from Fancies Fort retire Reason retaine and banish rash Desire What meanst thou careles thus to seek thy Carâ— Call home thy Wits giue ore although with losse Els like one blindfold art thou caught in snare And wilt too late returne by weeping crosse Seest noâ— that shut is Loues sweet passage
plaine That opens wide the path of proud Disdaine If so why shouldst thou beg in vaine for grace Rather demaund thy pasport and away Better at first giue ore in midst of Race Then lose in th' end though longer time thou stay Then if she 'le not admit thee as a frend Let her thee manum it as Free to wend. O that I were where bides mine ALBA faire VVhose person to possesse is pleasure such As driues away all melancholy Care Which doth the Hart through Griefs impression touch Whose louely Locks All do more curious deeme When they most careles to be dressed seeme Her sweet Lookes most alluring be when they Most chaste do seeme in modest glancing show Her words the more they vertuously do way The more in counâ— for amorous they go Her dressings such as when neglected most She 's thought as then to haue bestowd most cost Sweet Fortune when I meet my louely Treasure Dash my Delights with some small light disgrace Lest I enioying sweetnes boue all measure Surfet without recure on that faire face Her wonted coynesse let her vse a while My fierce Desire by Diet to beguile Lest with the fulnes of my ioyes abate The sweetnes and I perish straight before I do possesse them at too deare a rate But soft Fond Icarus how high wilt soare Thou dreamst I think or foulie dost mistake I dreame indeed Ah might I neuer wake Like as the Hawke cast from the Faulkners fist Freed from the Mew doth ioyfull take his flight Soaring aloft in th' aire as best him list Now here now there doth finde no small delight Enioying that which Treasures all doth passe His libertie wherefore he prisoner was But when th'acquainted Hollow he doth heare And seeth the Lure cast forth him home to traine As one obedient full of awfull feare He leaues his flight and backward turnes againe Chusing in ancient bonds for to be bound Fore faithles to his Lord he will be found So ALBA though I wanton otherwhile Do runne abrode and other Ladies court Seeking the time with pleasures to beguile And oft my selfe with words of course do sport Dissemâ—â—â—ng with Dissemblers cunninglie As is the guise with tongue with hand and Eye Yet when I thinke vpon thy face diuine Thy Beautie cals me home straight as a Lure All other banishing from Hart of mine And in LOVES Bands to thee doth binde me sure And since my Faith and Fates do so ordaine I am content thy prisoner to remaine Where are those Haires so louely Browne in show Where is that snowy Mount of Iuorie white With damaske Rose where do the Lillies grow Whose Colours whose sweetnes All delight Where are those cheerfull Lights Lamps of cleere Loue Wherein a beautious Heauen doth alwaies moue Where are those Margarite Pearles withouten prise And Rubies rich my matchles Treasures store With other Graces wonders to the Wise Worthy that euery Lawrell them adore I know not I vnles in her they be In Her who 's Faire Alas too Faire for me VVhy haue not then my Stars so courteous bin In this to me as they are in the rest That I by loftie stile might Beautie win And blaze abrode her praise deseruing best VVhy haue not I the Gift her Gifts to thâ—nder And make the world thereat admire and wonder Could I but as she doth deserue aright Sing as a Cignet sweete with pleasing vaine Her Vertues rare her staining Beauties sight As I am blunt in Wit and dull in Braine I then should see her Courteous Gentle Milde VVhere now I finde her Cruell Proud and Wilde Needes must I ALBA leaue yet she 'le not part Though I doe loue her yet still my Desire Seekes her to keepe in Closet of my Hart And though she doth against me thus conspire Yet with my Soule I must her Error moane Since so vnkindelie she her selfe hath showne My secret griefes I le in my selfe disiest The world shall neuer know her hatefull Pride Her shame my Bane I will conceale in brest And as a Monument there shall it bide ALBA farewell all pittie now is fled And since t is so Adew I am but Dead But thou my Hart come thou from her thy way T is time I thinke to leaue that witching face Where too too much vnkindenes still doth stay For Loyall Loue there is no resting place Simple â—â—odwill to soâ—ourne findes it vaine Where Thoughts are falls and Double do remaine My nere stainde Faith my life shall testifie To future Age that shall hereafter come To shew the world my spotles Loyaltie And yet perhaps againe may shine the Sunne When as my Trueth vnto her being knowne She may at last receiue me for her owne The Conclusion of the second Part. IF I should count the spending of my time Since Her I lost with whom I left my life How I in Griefe without reliefe doe pine My seldome Pleasures and my Corsies rife If I should take vpon me these to tell It were in vaine for t' were impossibell Yet still the more I suffer for her sake The more my Hart doth studie to endure The world shall know the Pennance he doth make And how his Thoughts are loyall chaste and pure So small account he maketh for to die At his owne Death he seeketh wilfully Of Her he still doth buzze me in the eare And wilâ— me make a Iournie to that place To haue a sight of Her to him so deare Whose beautious shape all Beauties doth disgrace Alas I would full faine Her selfe doth know But Danger to offend doth still say No. Then since poore Hart thou canst not haue thy will But longst â—or what thou neuer shalt obtaine Consume tâ—y selfe with thy recureles ill As Women that with Longing breede their banâ— And as thou diest let this thy Comfort be Thy LOVE was VERTVE hers was CHASTITIE R.T. THE THIRD PART OF THE MONETHS MIND OF A MELANCHOLY LOVER By R. T. Gentleman AT LONDON Printed by Felix Kingston for Matthew Lownes 1598. Alla Crudelissima LO here the course spun Web of Discontent Extract from out the cause of my trew Griefe The Quintesence of my Complaint close pent Wherein my Hart hath line without reliefe The Glasse wherein my sorrowes each may see Thou cruell ALBA thus haste plagued me Thinke on the Mestfull MONTHS MINDE I still keepe Depriude of thee how I doe liue forlorne All night I sigh all day I waile and weepe As one that hath all pleasures quite forsworne Thus caâ—efull I doe care for careles thee Whilst wretchles thou makst no account of mee Knewst thou what t' were to Loue and what to hate I know with Malice thine thou wouldst dispence And wouldst enhaunce my Bale to blissefull state And Loue with Loue not Rigor recompence Ah gainst me doe not thou thy wrath incite Monstrous it is Loue to repayâ—e with spite Be gracious then though I haue graceles bin Let Fauour thine aboue my Merit show Against the Tide why shouldst thou
alwaies swim And as a froward Tortoys backeward goe Not Night but Light giue me with those faire Eyes Fierce Serpents not milde Doues enuenomise To thee Deare Faire that mak'st me fare amisse To thee my Goddesse I my prayers make And prostrate fall before thy Shrine of Blisse Crauing of thee that them in worth thou take Whilest I to thee my Hart in humble wise Vpon thy beautious Altar sacrifise Peruse with kindenes this my sad complaint Since I with pacience doe abide the paine And but thy willing eare herewith acquaint So thy remembrance not forget the same Thy hart gainst me not still induratize But my sad thoughts in me retranquillize I will not leaue vntill I leaue to loue And leaue to loue I will not till I die But thy hard flintie Breast I le somewhat moue To moane my Griefe the cause I alwaies crie Crie will I to thee till my Voyce be hoâ—rse And neuer leaue thee till thou take remorse From thy faire eyes the Sunnes Prâ—cursors bright This fire hath sprung which all my parts doth burne No Art-Enammeld lines that I do write No praies nor praiers to Mercie thâ—e â—an turne Yet come the worst the Age to come shall say I bare the prize for Constancie away Burnham Now earthly Goddesse haue thou some regarde To me thy seruant crauing what is iust Though long at last yeelde to me some rewarde Since I relie on thee and wholy trust Thinke on the pennance sore I doe endure Which to my Soule thine Absence doth procure Support my feeble Thoughts that scarse can moue For thou wert wont such better to commend Who would persist more loyall in their Loue And perseuere vnto the latest end Then those who wheÌ„ Loues course they gan to run Would giue it ore before halfe way were done I cannot doe so for my longing Hart Is knit in thine in such perfection strange That Death these twaine in sunder cannot part Nor length of Time nor Places distance change Thy Beâ—utious Vertue Vertuous Beautie tiâ— That makes me ioy in noy take Bale for blis Ah where art thou kinde Friendship that of yore Still with thy cheerefull smile didst comfort mee And sweetely wouldst with me my state deplore When heauie sad and grieu'd thou didst me see Ah where are those Alcinoi daies as now I Metamorphosde am I know not how Cleere shines the Sonne yet shines it not on me Faire is the Morne yet darkâ—ned is my Light Others the Spring I Fall of leafe doe see Whilest I enioy no Day but gloomy Night Thou art the cause sweete ALBA for thy Loue In absence thine these bitter-Brunts I proue Whilest thou like Princesse entertained art By thy kinde Tenants in most dutious wise Seeking to shew the zeale of their pure Hart By all the pleasing meanes they can deuise Striuing who shall thee better entertaine Signes of thy welcome home to them againe I here am left alone all poste alone As LOVES true Pledge that lies for Faith to Pawne Onely to waite thy parture and to mone Whilest my Conceits on Sorrowes Tent are drawne Like to the Bird on solitarie branch Wailing his Mates sowre losse through hard mischaÌ„ce Then louely thou my Harts deare Treasurer Let me obtaine this Fauour at thy Grace That thoâ— delay no longer nor defer But daine me once more see thy heauenly face Else here I vow if so thou come not soone Me shalt thou not see thou shalt see my Foome Now that my weary spirits do runne their race To those transplendent Lamps of ALBA faire And gazing there in vaine do plead for grace Leauing their ancient lodging nakte and bare She as their Foe stands on her Brauerie And passage to their Entrance doth denie They finding shut fast close milde Pities gate And seeing in what danger I remaine With haste returne from whence they came of late Retiring to their wonted Home againe Where they repose of Hope quite dispossest And there with Feare and Care together rest Disdaine those eyes spoyles that before were bright And fierce Desire that to reuenge hath minde Increaseth still in hart to worke me spite Deuising how to make her more vnkinde The orâ— the Bellowes vnto Furie blowes The other Slaue to wrathfull Anger showes But though to me she seemes as pitilesse Seeking my Death without cause to conspire Yet wiâ—â— I beare with all wrongs nere the lesse Resolu'd to bide the vtmost of her Ire Against her wrath I le true and Humble be For Faith 's my Fence my Shield's Humilitie Poore Meleager being in disdaine With furious Altea cruell mother his She flang his fatall Brand in firie flame Long time kept by her as her chiefest blis So as through fire it did consumde decay His wretched life did peece-meale waste away Altea mine ALBA is Meleager I The fatall Brand where bides my life her Loue No longer then she keepes this happely For me no longer may my spirits moue Long time Affection kept it but as now She flings it in the flame with angrie brow Anger 's the Fire Suspect kindles the Flame Conceit 's the Belâ—owes wherewith she doth blow Haste was the hand which flung it in the same The Coles Vnkindnes that did burne it so Ah but one drop of Water of her Grace If so I had t would quencht be in small space Thus do I burne and burning breathe my last And breathing last to naught consume away Like to that Lampe whose Oyle when it doth waste By lesser light and lesser doth decay Yet in this Fire I crie still for to moue her Ah piâ—ie me th' vnhappiest loyall Louer Thou solitarie Mountaine Mount of Mone Pleasing to me mine only solace chiefe How like are we we two seeme but as One Since thou shewst sad and I still to haue Griefe Thou with wilde sauadge Woods art compast round And in my Breast sharp austere Thoughts are found The huger Hill in bignes thou dost show The more All thee vncouth and sauadge deeme The more that I in yeares in Loue do grow The more deformed Creature I do seeme Water from thee from euery side doth come And teares from out mine eyes as Fountaines run Thou dost abide the blustring furious winde The paine of skalding sighs perforce I feele Tempests and stormes to thee are oft vnkinde But worse to me is ALBAS Hart of steele Thoâ—â—rooken art by Ioues sire from aboue And I am blasted with Lightning of Loue. Thou wantest Fruit and I am without Hart Only in this my Griefes do thine exceede That where as thou insensible still art I liuing feele too well the Brunt indeede Yet wert thou worse I like in thee to stay Since that my Pearle mine ALBA's gone her way O that I might my Griefes set downe at large And to the world make knowne mine Iniurie But I not dare the Cruell giues in charge Them to keepe close and This beare patientlie Being so grieuous as but part to know Would make the flintiest Hart to split for woe
be fed I will embrace the time for to beguile Such golden Thoughts as are within my head Golden indeede Golde Thoughts of sâ—â—h a one As I prefer fore Golde though she a Stone But sleepe or die Then dye thou canst not sleepe For thee to sleepe it is impossibell To thinke what 's past broade waking will thee keepâ—â— Which thou must still conceale not any tell My comfort 's this that waking as I die I see my Loue in Thought though not with eye Pure Iuâ—rie white with spot of Crimson red Where Beauties First Borne lay the perfect Molde Or like Aurora rising from her Bed Such was mine ALBA faire for to beholde Such was She when She louely LOVE ore came The Conquerors Glory Conquereds Pleasing Shame But now that Cullâ—r faire hath changde his grace Through Burning Feuer deadly in his kinde And Sallow Palenes stained hath that Face To whome the Prize for Fauour was assinde Sicke is my Lady sicke is all Delight And brightest Day is turnde to darkest Night Fortune hath stolne from ALBA tooke from LOVE From him she takes his Solace Sport and Play From Her her Beautie which she would improue And to her selfe would falsely it conuay Being Pitifull she Cruell seemes to be And in her Blindenes sheweth â—hat she can see False Fortune darke as Moâ—â—â— in any Good â—ut to doe Hurt as Argus full of Eyes â—n outward shew a Tiger fierce and wood â—nd yet to me she 's Kinde in piteous wise Since She by drawing Beautie from that place Quencht hath my Fier to ease me for a space My Harte vpon his Deathbed sicke did lye Calling vpon proude ALBA but in vaine Too Cruell she for pittie it did crie Yet had Repulse through Rigor of Disdaine So as to liue thus long it could not bide But soone gaue vp the Ghost and so he dide Then to the Chappell of bad Fortunâ— harde By smoking sighes it quickelie was conuaide A place for these sad Funerals preparde Where in a Tombe of Loyaltie t' was laide Anger Suspect Griefe Sorow Care and Feare VVith dismall Doubtes the chiefest Mourners were About the Hierce great store of Teares were shed The Torches that did burne so cleare and bright VVere ALBAS eyes by Crueltie misled VVhilest she triumpht to see so wofull sight Pittie the Dirge did sing with wofull Plâ—â—â— Assisted with a blacke and dismall Saunt Vpon the Monument yplacâ—d was Fire Sworde and Corde with Arrowes sharpe keenâ—â— The Epitaph for such as by should pas VVas thus subscribde an carued to be seene Loe here that gentle Hart entombde doth lie Whom cruell ALBA causeles forst to die Poore Soule in couert ioy thy Care fauns rest VVeare VVillow in thy Hat Baies in thy Hart Gold when it bubleth least then boyles it best VVater runs smoothest in the deepest part By thy great warines let it be seene Not what thou now art but what thou hast beene The greatest comfort as a Louers dew Is of his Mistris Secrets much to know Yet no lesse labor for him being Trew Then naught to say nor ought thereof to show Of men we learne to speake things to reueale Of Gods silent to be and to conceale Yet sweete's the Beautie of mine ALBA faire What blabst thou it yea blab it willinglie Bees that doe die with honey buried are With dulcet notes and heauenly Harmonie And they that dying doe Beautie still commend Shall be with kindenes honored in the end Then hope thou well and haue well as they say Long haue I hopte but Hoping is in vaine Hope with Allusions dallying doth me pay Yet but for Hope the Hart would breake in twaine Ah MELT my Hart would Melted once thou were Thou shouldst not then haue cause so much to feare The Fall of Leafe the Spring tide of my Loue Flowring a fresh with Hope I found to bee But now alas the Spring time for to proue Fall of the Leafe of my lost Loue I see The Carnouale of my sweet LOVE is past Now comes the Lent of my long Hate at last LOVE is reuolted whilst he Traytor like Against his prince gainst me his Soueraigne Weapons vniust sauns cause takes vp to fight And doth his fealtie and his Homage staine He is reuolted and mine ALBA's fled I seeme aliue here yet in deede am dead In vaine I wish for what I cannot haue And seeke with griefe to aggrauate my Mone What is to me denied that still I craue Gaulling my selfe with fond Conceiâ—s alone Yet I forgiue her little knoweth she That she her owne Hart wounds when she â—ils me Meane time in vncouth Sorrowes secret Cell My haples Fortune hard I will disiest Hating all ioy I priuat there will dwell Because I of my wish am dispossest Like Petrark chaste of Laura coy I plaine Of whom I neuer yet could Fauour gaine How long shall I importune thee with Cries And presse thee for some Grace bard flintie Dame How long my sute deplore in pitious wise And yet be frustrate of that I complaine Vrge me with ought if so thou canst of Ill Do but obiect and answer thee I will Cite me at LOVES great Audit to appeare And if a iust account I giue not thee Of all my Life since Loyall I did sweare Vnto thy Cruell selfe casheere thou mee But if I true haue bin and dealt vpright Thou dost me wrong to set by me so light More then high time t is for thee to relent My sorrowes flowes aboue their wonted bound And well nie breake my Hart where they art pent For so great Force a too too slender ground Then 〈◊〉 supplant not from my wished rest But do abiure harsh Rigor from thy brest Affect me not inflict on me fresh woe Thy Loue my seruice merits not thy Hate My loyall Hart to thee didst thou but know Thou wouldst not thus reuenge but rew my state Nor am I ouer bolde in what I craue Pitie not Fauour I desire to haue TAVVNY and BLACK my Courtly Colours be Tawny because forsooke I am I weare Black since mine ALBAS Loue is dead to me Yet liueth in another I do beare Then welcome TAVVNY since I am forsaken And come deare BLACK since my Loue 's from me taken The princelike Eagle's neuer smit with Thunder Nor th' Oliue tree with Lightning blasted showes No marâ—â—â—lâ—â—hen it is to me or wonder Thoâ—gh my â—oy Dame in Loue to me hard growes More deafe to me she is then sensles stock Her Hart 's obdurate like the hardned rock But what meane I thus without Reason prate I am no more forsaken then I was My Loue 's no more dead then it was of late For yet mine ALBA nere for me did passe My Loue 's not dead she neuer me forsooâ—â— For ALBA nere yet me in fauour tooke As many Fauours haue I as before For since I her first lou'd she me disdainde And still doth so still wounding me the more As in despayre I haue ere since remainde Yet I in BLACK
nor my Griefes decrease Thousands of quicksands hath he all about I thousand cares that on my Hart do sease His waues are cut in twaine my Hart throughout The whistling reedes about his banks do sound Sorrow in me is of my song the ground Both windes and raine vpon him daily fall I still distill salt showres and sighs amaine By tempests oft his Channels broke are all My Bowels cleft be with continuall paine His bottâ—me none can well perceiue or see My Torments without depth sauns sounding bee Only we differ thus he still doth bide Here swallowing them that passe alongst this place I vade away and Cruell Homicide Murther I do my selfe in pitious case Who then can rid me Notamie of Woe From these hell plagues None but my Cruell Foe ALBA I haue not liued ouer long Yet haue I hollow eyes and haires halfe gray My yeares not many for I am but yong Though wrinckled be my cheekes and lims decay But is this Destnie or i ft pure Deceit That hath on me thus wrought this cunning feaâ— I ft be the first why then none could preuent My wretched Stars to scape this miserie I ft be the latter that such ill me ment I needes must think it was mine Enemie It was indeed thy selfe it was Faire Witch That with thy beautie wrought me to be sich Thou art too Faire I see for to be true And too too False for one that is so Faire Yet for my wrongs thou seemest not to rue Nor for my Crosses ought at All dost care And yet my Loue 's more feruent still towâ—rds thee My sparks growne flames my cinders bonfires bee Only I grieue my daies are at an end Fore I can of thee any fauour gaine And which is worse I likely am to spend All the Remainder yet no Grace obtaine Vnhappie Pilgrim I borne still to euill To shrine her for a Saint who is a Deuill When Beautie sickneth then Desire doth die Fauor doth vade most flouring in his prime Then LOVE doth ebbe when flowes Aduersitie But Friendship bides out euery stormie Time Ah ALBA I not doted haue on thee But lou'd thee deare as deere as deere might bee Affection alwaies either grounded is On Vertue and Vertue nere peeuish showeâ— Or else on Beautie counted chiefest blisse And Beautie praisde through Loue more fairer growes I neuer Peruerse was nor Sullen yet But praisde thy Beautie to mine vtmost wit To thee I both a Friend and Louer am Yet euery Louer is no Constant Friend But who a Friend in Nature is and Name As Louer true begins and true doth end Thy truesâ— Friend am I more then another And vnto thee the faithfulst loyalst Louer Vertue in me Affection shall subdue Wisedome all Lust my Friendship sweetest Beautie I le not be fickle false but constant true Seruing thee still with all respect of Dutie And when I shall be buried dead and gone My Ghost shall as thy Slaue thee tend vpon Ah Speake then shall these Torments I endure Of Bloody Thoughts and nere expressed paine Neuer remorse of stubborne thee procure And shall they breede still my eternall bane Yet grant me things impossible to wish To feede Conceite since that no hurt it is Then shalt thou see through this I holde so deare I le longe my life prolong and Spiriâ—s spend And to my selfe that Creature none may heare I le softlie call it Loue till life shall end And if what I thus whisper Any vrge I le name it Honor so my selfe to purge May I but this sweete Contemplation holde I then shall liue of All men most content Taking more pleasure in my Thoughts though olde Then ere I did in youthly Actions spent Grant me this â—race to thee t is mattâ—r small And all my Crosses I le sweete Blessings call Ah that tho'wldst daigne this might be christned Loue That Fauour as rewardâ— for it might be But I doe feare I shall thee too much moue This ouer boldenes Dearest pardon me And lâ—t me hope one day some gentle power May turne to Sweete this my most bitter Sower Time was and is and euer shall be still That I to honor thee will nâ—uer spare But for to call it Loue or Pure Goodwill I neuer durst although I seemde to dare Then suffer me to follow this my Vaine Flatteâ—ing my selfe although I nothing gaine None pleased hath mine eyes but ALBA bright None but sweete ALBA doth possesse my Haâ—t Mine eares in ALBA onely take delight And â—his my Soule from ALBA nere shall part To follow thâ—e all Fortunes I le forsake And vnto thee alone my selfe betake The Godâ— haue set such difference twixt our slate That all must be pure Dewtie Reuerence Nothing I must terâ—e LOVE such is my Fate Except thou daine therewith foâ— to dispence And since I know that so thâ—u dost command I condescend will to it out of hand Yet my Vnspotted Thoughts my pining Corse My Dâ—scontented Life let them obtaine One blessed Fauour throuâ—h thy kinde remorse Though they not merit least part of the same So I with Ioy shall end my wearie daies And dying sound abroad thy nere dying Praise The Conclusion of the last Part. IF Vertuous Loue be Honor and no Shame Let no man causeles seeke my chaste Desire To bridle in with base conceited raine Since Virtue kindled in my brest this fire The Wise I hope will no Exceptions take Nor Gainst my Loue nor gainst these Toyes I make For by the Diall of Discretion sound Mine Actions all â—nd Cariage I direct And fearefull am I least I should be found T' haue done amisse in any due respect LADIE I hope no liue is here set downe Sauns awfull looking backe vnto your frowne No Worthlesse Thought doth lodge within my brest Since as my Guides I follow thy faire Eyes Sparkes of true Vertue in me now dâ—e rest Infused by those beames in wondrous wise Those with an vncouth Flame set me on fire The rightest pathes of HONOR to aspire By these conducted to Eternall Ioy I hope foâ— to be lifted vp to 'th Skie From all Disgrace from trouble and annoy Where of my selfe I nere dâ—â—â—mount so hie Be gracious then Sweete Goddesse of my Thought For thy power t is doth make me soare aloft Il Disgratiato R. T. G. CERTAINE DIVINE POEMS WRITTEN BY THE foresaid Author R.T. Gentleman â—mprinted at London by F. K. for Matthew Lownes Deo Optimo Maximo WIth Teares in Eyes with drops of Blood from Hart With skalding sighs from inward grieued Soule A CONVERTITE from Vaine LOVE now I part Whilst for my Sinnes fore Heauen I do condole I know and knowledge I haue liued wrong And wilfull sought mine owne Destruction long The Temple of my Heauenly GOD I haue For earthly Goddesse stainde blasphemously Selling my selfe to Satan for his Slaue Whilst I transgrest in vile Apostasie Banisht my selfe I haue from Paradize Through thriftles Toyes of base-borne Vanities O thou that on swift Cherubins dost
Thou that do'st fill with true Delight the minde With true Delight wherein true Ioy we finde Behold how I ore laid with grieuous sinne With Soule defil'd with Heart infected sore Doe flie to thee thy Mercie for to winne And with Repentance doe my faultes deplore Lord if thy Lawes and thee I haue offended Let mine old Follies with new Teares be cleansed My Sorrowes to my Sinnes are sparkes but small So loathsome they appeare vnto my sight On thee I at thy Gate of Pittie call Thou art the Flame that canst them purge most brighâ— The Bellowes is Amendements pure desire Which doth inflame through thy hotte louing Firâ— Let thy great Bountie me forget forgiue And bad Conceites that idle Fancies wrought Let them no more within me working liue But to Confusion and Contempt be brought Oh let not Sinne my Soule still Satanise But with thy Spirit the same imparadise A most excellent patheticall and passionate Letter of Duke D'Epernoun MINION vnto Henry the third King of France and Polonia when through the Duke of Guizes deuise and meanes he was forbidden the presencâ— of the King MY gracious Soueraigne a great combate had I in my minde and no little or small adoe to resolue my selfe what way to take hauing receiued expresse commandement not to approach the royall presence of your sacred Maiestie any more a matter of no small consequence as that was vnto me and such as was hard for me to beleeue and therefore not vnlikelie to be but of long resolution Willing I was my good Lord to obey your letter and so did I but yet for to make manifest the cause of so suddaine an alteration I did greatly desire to remoue from my heart whatsoeuer might haue displeased your Grace in any of my actions whatsoeuer yet could I finde none being thoroughly determined and wonderouslie desirous to answer the same with my life and bid you farewell with a liuely and open voyce before the face of all the world I most humbly beseech your Maiestie to pardon this my Disobedience seeing I haue not committed this fault onely for feare of disobeying you but rather because I am pricked forward by the great affection I owe vnto your seruice more than all the men in the world I see Sir I am the onely marke whereat the Enuie and Slaunder of France doe drawe their most fierce Dartes of their Rigor and Force I must needes vndertake â—o resist no lesse those who are Enuyers of my good Fortune then heretofore I haue done the Admirers thereof not doubting but that God will giue me the Grace not onely to repulse theÌ„ but also to beat theÌ„ downe wiâ—h the onely Sun-shining Beame of your royall Fauour which alone shal suffice without any more need of other Armour being as strong vnto me as the foundation of a Rocke which no Accidents whatsoeuer shall euer be able to vndermine For I do not place in the ranck of transitory thinges the Friendship wherewith your Maiestie with so great affection so long time hath honoured me It hath continued without ceasing with so great Good-will and sustayned so many sharpe assaultes that I feare nothing at all that it should perish in one small moment and on the sodaine Hap-hazard did not build it Fortune therefore shall not ouerthrow it and the workes of your Maiesties bountie shall neuer I hope yeelde vnto the malice of the Enemies of my Good Neither will I haue any other proofe of the Eternitie of your rare Fauours towards mee then the answere you made vnto one of the Neerest about your Maiestie who affirming you would make me too GREAT you answered And so Great will I make him that it shal not be in my power hereafter to vndoe him although willingly I would These are the wordes worthie Prince wherewith you haue pricked forwardes the violence of my malicious ill willers Wordes in trueth most worthie the greatest noblest and most bountifull Monarch of the worlde In so much as I haue engrauen in my soule an immortall desire to make my selfe worthie the effectes thereof But I must not nowe beholde nor at this time looke into what parte your Good-will hath shewed it selfe most firme and most affectionate to make famous my good Fortune The principall beginning thereâ—â— was resolued vpon with iudgement the sequell with reason and the end shall not be variable with ill destinie The proceedinges thereof were voluntary your Maiestie wil not suffer I trust that the chaunce thereof should be forced you haue raised me out of the dust vnto the greatest honours of your high Estate and of an vnworthie younger brother that I was you haue created me a great Duke I am of your owne fashioning I hope you will not suffer your worke to be vnperfect and for to lift me vp vnto the heauens of your greatnes you will not giue me winges of so soft a wax that I shall melt in the violent lightninges of the rage of mine enemies to make me miserablie to sincke into the bottomlesse flouds of their bloody desires But rather contrariwise that it would please you to protect me and to take a certaine kinde of pleasure and pride to see and beholde that the power you haue giuen mee may bee sufficient to ouerthrow these Infidels and base Creatures their 〈◊〉 estate being full of discommodities and tâ—eir diuelish determinations guiltie of horrible treasons But if your Maiestie desire to see the rest and quietnesse of your poore People imagining that I am the cause of their pouertie and neede and not the quarrels and conflicts that these Iewde fellowes haue attempted if my prosperitie causeth the trouble of your pleasures and if you thinke that ceasing the pretexte of your vnfained Good-will towardes mee by the same meanes they woulde cease their euill behauiours also let vs then Sir ouerthrow this good Fortune let vs remoue that which serues for a colour to the enterprises that these turbulent Companions goe about to put themselues into possession of your Estate let vs ouerthrowe the meanes which they call the Motiues and occasions of their Factions yet in the ende it shall plainly be seene that aspiring Ambition cankred Enuie of these malcontented mindes is the onely cynders which couers the fire wherewith they would imbrace your Realm and the breake necke ouerthrow into which they couet to thrust your people to accompany theÌ„ vnto their endles miseries But Soueraigne Liege I doe not hold the liberalitie your royall Person hath bestowed on mee so deare as I doe the least of your desires my obedience shall franckly yeeld to you all that which your princely Liberalitie hath bountifully giuen vnto me whether it be to take away the colour of the warres ensuing or to make it good in good-earnest vpon them which beare a shewe to desire it The losse of my Goodes shall be the least of my Crosses I haue alwayes considered that Fortune giueth noâ—hing but what she can alwayes take againe and that all worldly
still at her former Crime And with Remorse doth mortifie the Spright VVhilst wronged Soule on Others layes the blame Yet reprehends her selfe euen for the same This earthly Beautie doth the Sence delight But Heauenly Beautie doth â—he minde moâ—e please The one the World hath as an Obiect right And seekes the World to pleasure with sweet ease But th' other hath â—ehouah for hir glasse Nor she for any but for him doth passe The Sence doth burne with â—oues vnperfect works Which like a blazâ— in th' aire doth flit away The Soule thirsts after that which neuer hurts And hunts for that which neuer will decay That which not subiect is to any time But of it selfe most Perfect and Diuine Thou Lord the Mortall and Immortall both Created hast marke humbly I require How much within my bodie they be wroth Marke how within me gainst me they conspire VVithin themselues they vary so and grudge That which of both shall win us hard to iudge My bad Conceits from Adam sprung of yore Doo headlong runne to endles death with shame And lesse that Reason do thâ—m bridle sore Hardly my Soule can â—asse from whence it came Then pardon Lord the Course that I haue runne And I from Sinne a new Man will become A Tirant great faire Beautie is in Loue When it doth triumph in a louely face And who with cold Disdaine this doth not moue Is caught by subtill sweet alluring Grace Who stands at Beauties Gaze and doth not flie Is soone entrapt by wilfull glanâ—ing eye This which of true Loue is but Picture bare With shadowing Vale doth dimme our cleerest sight And if to follow it we do not spare It soone deceiues vs with a false delight And to perpetuall prison sends our soule Vnles her sleights by Reason we controule Faire Pearle fine gold base exâ—rements of th' earth What 's Beautie but a little White and Red Reuiued with a little liuely Breath With Winde or Sunne or Sicknes altered All this â—oth Time consume and bring to nought And all what ere into this world is brought The fairest Colours drie and vanish shall The yongst must pack as well as doth the Olde All mortall things to mortall death must fall And therefore first were cast in earthly molde That which doth â—â—orish greene as grasse to day Tomorow withereth like to dried Hay Swift flies our yeares as doth a running streame And lothed Age comes stealing on apace Our youth doth passe away as t were a Dreame And Death doth follow for to take his place Death comes and our Lifes patent to his hand For to resigne he straight doth vs command Strength to his course and winde vnto his flight VVith feathers to his wings Time ioyneth fast And this sweet life which we so much do like Though nere so loth yet must away at last The fairest Flower must wither with the weede VVhat so doth liue to die was first decreede Thrise happie man and trebble blest is he That neuer treads his steps from rightest way Nor with the mist of VVorld will blinded be But keepes right path and neuer goes astray Contemning all these mundaine Treasurâ— base In hope to ioy the heauenly Wealth of Grace VVho dyeth ill dyes who dieth well neuer dies But liues a life aboue Eternallie Like good â—lâ—as who in wondrous wise VVas from base Earth tooke vp to liue in skie VVhere bide Th'elect of Christ for euer blest In Abrahams bosome there for aye to rest For thee my HART doth burne like fire Deare Lord Which freesde before like Frost and chillie Ice For thee to leaue my sinne I doe accord Through which thy heauenly grace I did despise All Follies now as Shadowes vaine I le leaue And vnto thee the Substance trew I cleaue In thee I burne and in my selfe I freese Frozen through feare but burning through thy Loue. Reason ore Senses mine now ouersees And her Authoritie ore them doth proue Which makes me humbly call to thee for grace Though proud before I runne a selfe wild race Repentance right sad Griefe salt Teares sure Faith Renue in me a sorie Contrite Hart My guiltie Conscience oft within me saith I Death deserue yet Mercifull thou art Sighs from â—y soule I offer for my Fee As pretious Blood thou offredst once for mee My Hart now clensde and yet not mine as now â—weet Christ to thee his first Home turnes againe â—rom me he flies and vnto thee doth bow â— giue it thee Accept I pray the same Ah Soueraigne Sauiour do not now despise A broken Hart for pleasing Sacrifise Weake is my Barke in which my Life doth rowe My wretched life through grieuous faults mispent And in the World his Ocean sayles but slowe Because it falles into the Occident My sickly Minde runnes selfe same doubtfull way And Soule doth grieue that Fancie â—o doth stray And though a gentle calmie Winde to blowe She findes about her as she fresh doâ—h sayle Yet vnder Waters doe I spie belowe The Foe of my poore Soule her to assayle And in that part wherein he doth espie The Ship to leake in that he close doth lie Ah now it grieues me now I doe repent My reâ—chlesse Race that I so Iewde haue runne Yet hath my God in mercie to me sent Helpe to my Vessell weake else I vndonâ— Hope at the left hand standes that part â—o guide And constant Faith on right hand doth abide Earth was my flesh before and earth againe Ere long it shall be but my Soule on hie Shall be lift vp in brightest Heauens â—o raigne If I from false alluring Sinne can flie When at his feete who first life to me gaue A Glorious Seat for euer I shall haue Full 7. times foure of yeeres my life hath runne Whil'st to my selfe a heauy Bâ—rthen sore To others I a gainelesse charge become Soyled with beastly Thoughts vncleanly gore Whil'st in true Light being blind I farther goe From Reasons path which Iudgement did me show Slow to good works but too too swift to ill My Soule abroad with flitting wings doth flie And in the worlds darke bottom of Selfe will Mongst 1000. Snares she carelesly doth lie Where sensual Sense and Ignorance astray Her doubtfull leades quight out of her right way Too obstinate she headlong forward runnes In greatest Light she tumbleth in most darke Nor takes she thought what of her selfe becomes Be it right or wrong her course she doth not marke So that although Immortall she should liue Most mortall Death she seekes her selfe to giue But now thanks to the Soueraigne King of all She no more blinde the dangers gins to spie And looking backe vnto her former fall She doth repent through faith most heartily Where she doth see of Heauen the narrow Gate Which once was shut now ope for her escape King of all Kinges which from thy sacred Throne Doest maâ—ke and view from forth the Heauens hie Thy Graces vnto Adams Ofspring showne Of thy great Loue although vnworthilie