nodd or becke a worlde maie ouerthrowe And still my staiyng staffe did stande by one alone Whose gentill harte is now become as hard as Marble stone To me the cace is sutche the mischeef so is mine When I am worne vnto the bones he letts me starue and pine And letts me sinck or swim or shift by sleight of braine As though my hedde so game some were to set on eury maine Thus freendship feble growes and men can causlesse change And will this daie familiar be and waxe to morne full strange I will goe fishe for Fate through floods and salt sea fome And rather dye on wretched rocks then perishe here at home Emong my chefest freends amid my natiue soile Where neuer earst in any point I suffred blot or foile Where all the worlde maie see I suckt vp many a wrong Where well awaie the ritche maie thinke a poore man liu's to long Where let my truthe be tried I clame no small reward And where if fortune doe me right the prince ought me regard FINIS Verses that were giuen to the Quenes maiestie AS Thonder cracks with horlyng noies ronns ratlyng through the Skies For feare whereof greate flocks of Sheepe to Folde or couert flies Or as the dreadfull Iudges voice of life sharpe sentence giu's And causeth captiu's quake for feare that vnder mercie liu's So hearyng from your highnesse mouth a worde of woÌ„ders weight Like hound I clapped doune my eares coutcht in kenell streight And droupyng in this worlds disdain that drounds eche good desart I suckt vp sighes as sorrowe shapt to breake a blistred harte Yet gripyng greef in gronyng brest bred no sutche swellyng sore But salue of sweete contented minde had healed long before Though nere the dongeon of dispaire in darcknesse did I dwell And Caron came with carefull boate to rowe me doune to hell I held my hands to heauen hye where hope and helpe is had And so apeald to hym aboue that heauie minds maie glad Feare not ê™ he of froward Fate that fast on people fauls Nor shon not for a cottage poore the princely golden hauls In Court thou shalt thy credite seeke for she who scepter beares Shall showe thee fauour when I list and looke vpon thy teares Her iudgement tries the gold froÌ„ drosse where doeth vertues bud She frankly speaks and frely giu's and flings forthe worldly good When he that rules the hartes of kyngs had told this tale to me To court I came for cause well knowne and knelyng on my kne At closet dore where Prince doeth passe to praier mildly than I found by words and gracious lookes I was a happie man O blessed be that cherefull browe where Phebus beams did shine And euerlastyng light remaine amid those blessed eyne That like the starrs or Lampe of daie that blaseth broad in Skies Doeth driue darke clouds night awaie wheÌ„ blostryng blasts arise And as there burns greate gifts of grace in her like candle clere So God vphold her blessed face emong vs many a yere Finis ¶ A rebuke to vaine louers WHy art thou bounde that maiest bee free Shall reason yeeld to ragyng will Is thraldome like to libertee Wilt thou exchange the good for ill Then must thou learne a childishe plaie And of eche smart to taste and proue When lookers on shall iudge and saie Loe this is he that â—â—u's by loue Thy witts with thought shall stande at staies Thyne hedde shall haue but heauie rest Thyne eyes shall watche for wanton waies Thy tongue shall showe thy harts request Thyne ears shall heare a thousande naies Thyne hande shall put thy penne to paine But in the ende thou shalt dispraise Thy life so spent for sutche small gaine First cast the care and count the coste And waie what fraude in loue is founde Then after come and make thy boste And showe some cause why thou art bounde When that the wine hath ronne full lowe Thou shalt be glad to drinke the lyes And basse the fleshe full oft I knowe That hath been blowne with many flyes If loue and luste might neuer cope And youth might ronne in measures race Or if long suite might winne sure hope I would lesse blame a louers cace But loue is greate with hotte desire And sweete delite maks youth so fonde That little sparks doe proue greate fire And bryngs free harts to endlesse bonde We se where greate deuotion is The people creepe and kisse the crosse Wherefore I finde lesse faute with this Though fondlyngs gilde a bridells bosse The foole his bable will not change Not for the scepter of a kyng A louers life is nothyng strange For yong men seeks no other thyng FINIS ¶ Of fained frendshippe IN fréends are found a heape of doubts that double dealyng vse A swarme of sutche I could finde out whose crafte I could accuse A face for loue a harte for hate those faunyng freends can beare A tong for trothe a hedde for whiles to fraude the simple eare In humble port is poison packt that plainnesse can not spie Who credits all and can not se where stingyng serpents lye With hastie trust the harmelesse harte is easily hampred in And made beleue it is good Gold that is but Lead and Tin The first deceipt that blears our eyes is fained faithe profest The second trap is gratyng talke that gropes eche strangers brest The third deuice is greetyng words with collours stretched out Whiche bids suspect to feare no snares nor dread no dangers doubt The last and worst is long repaire that crepes in frendshipps lappe And daiely haunt that vnder trust deuiseth many a trappe Loe how false frends can frame a fetche to win their wills w t wiles And sause their sleights with sugred sopps shadoe hurt w t smiles To sarue their lusts are sondrie sorts that practise diuerse kinds Some carry Honie in their mouths venome in their minds Thus where that custome â—ouâ—leth men in vice and foule abuse No feare of God nor losse of name there maners maie reduce Me thinke the stones within the streete should crie out at this cace And eury one that should them meete should shon their double face FINIS ¶ Verses that weare giuen to a moste mightie personage O Pearlesse Prince if penne had purchast praise My parte was plaied long since on publike stage Sith Leaden worlde disdaines the golden daies With face of Brasse men must go through this age Though Poetts prate like Parret in a cage Poore Tom maie sitte like Crowe vpon a stone And cracke harde Nutts for Almonds sure are gone A Figge for verse and filed gallant stiles Whose romblyng noyes but thonders in the aire For pleasant wordes procures but scorns and smiles Or clokes colde showres in calmie weather faire My spised termes are dround in deepe despaire Yong witts hath ronne old Churchyard out of breath And babblyng bookes hath ridden Rime to death Bothe Prose and Rime doeth goe a beggyng now And Finenesse fraes so sauours
thy vertues all Come wandryng wights y t seekes for happ in wilde depe streams flods And se with feelyng sence what gifts in Cicill growes buds I praies the name and blesse the plot and kisse suche perfit grounde That yeelds suche fruit and doeth in deede in blessed things abounde If tong had arte to showe at full the fulnesse of this soile The tong should worke and peÌ„ should cease or serue in place of foile To set forthe fame of lande vnknowne yet knowne to skilfull men And knowne againe to Gods theÌ„ selues that rules bothe tong pen. Finis A matter of repulce goyng to the Sea WHen will and winde doe iarre and Neptune proues a foe A man maie venter farre yet haue no powre to goe Admit that Ioue doe smile if other Gods doe lowre We must abide a while and watche the happie howre For eury God in Skies a seurall nature haue And sure greate quarrells rise by suites that men doe craue Of Gods whose sondrie moods a masse of matter showes Some are the Gods of goods and where that Fortune flowes Thei followe tide and tyme and some are Gods of game And some in clouds doe clime and flies as faste as Fame Some alwaies like the seas and some the lande embrace Some lou's to take their ease and quaff's and bibbs a pace Some are the Gods of graine and flowrs and fruit's likewise So now to breake my braine about these Gods in Skies It were but labour loste yet how should people saile Or ride to any coste when hope of Gods doe faile First proue a courage bolde and goe to féeld and fright If Mars his loue waxe cold ye shalbe conquerd streight Where Venus frounes make loue and see what lucke ye finde If Oelus liste not moue in vaine ye looke for winde So many thyngs by name are rulde through Gods in aire And Gods good lucke doe frame in weather foule or faire But Gods doe dwell so hye and I so lowe remaine I knowe not where to crie nor yet to whom complaine A greater greef I feele a fortune somwhat strange So swift tourns Fortunes wheele that still the winde doeth change When I to shipp would goe no soner tourne I backe But streight a gale doeth blowe where I the winde did â—icke This prou's like eurie suite that I doe take in hande For others catche the fruite when at reward I stande My Deastnie is enrould O maister of Roulls I feare Where winde doeth blowe so cold there comes no Sommer theare And though that Sonne doe shine it giu's but little heate Some saie worse lucke is myne and my mishap is greate Thus here in verse I showe what winde doeth me a reste In hope before I goe the winde mill bloweth at Weste Till then my penne shall walke where I doe finde good will To make my freends to talke on Churchyardes fortune still FINIS Of one that for vertues sake honored a freend AS freendship is a league of Loue and showes the harte within So some affection is the ground wheron it doth begin And reason offreth causes why sutche freendship breeds in thought Thus reason is the kindly cause that all these things hath wrought Some hold opinion fancie works by secret motions sweete A meane to make the honest minde and faithfull frendship meete Deserts dare claime no place hereof for where good turns haue past Small fauour comes and world forgetts the plain good will at last Then reason from affection brought must nedes the cause perswade Wherewith the fancie workes the webbe and so is freendship made When man and woman is in frame and shapt as I haue saied Their hartes prepars a perfite place where frendship maie be staied Wée see eare pleasures are possest or any profite rise A choice or likyng knitts the knot of freendship with the wise The iudgement doeth election make when all affects are blinde And freendship triumphes in no where but in a noble minde It scornes to dwell with daintie freaks that flickers here and there And flitts as feathers doe with winde and restes no certaine where The worthie wights that wisely waies y t weight of méere good wil Are chéefest mansion house and seate for worthy fréendship still But loe a question now doeth rise I doe demaunde to knowe Of fréendships rule or reasons lore whiche maie the furthest goe First fréendship marcheth formost man and leau's behinde the rest Then reason comes in second rancke and seeks to doe his best Yet freendship is not greater sure then reason in degree For freendship is but very bare where reason wants you see When witte hath well conceiu'd a cause by rule and reasons greate Then frendship showes this force at full as fire by flame shoes heate I knowe not well whiche ruleth moste the reason that I haue Or els the frendship that I beare where faithe doeth frendship craue Good reason leads my fancie forthe affection yeelds thereto And freendship followes on as faste as freendship ought to doe Thus loe my reason and my sence in frendships league is bound Whiche bondage is but free consent for freendly fauour found FINIS ¶ VVritten from the Countrey twentie yere agoe to one that poorely remaines at the Courte yet WHo spends his tyme in Court God knowse Maie happ to winne and sure to lose For losse is liker there to fall Then any happie chaunce at all Yet some cold Courtiars daiely thinke That at the spryng a man maie drinke The Welle hedde maie be stopt you see Then emptie must the Bocketts bee Where many drawe and preace is greate Or thousands doe the Market beate There things are skant and ware is deart The moe the geasts the barer cheare The Court is like a Mearmaids song That flattereth many people long And paieth them with a priuie nippe First braurie brings a begerly whippe And nexte vaine hope doeth lead the blinde To looke for that thei neuer finde Some set for birdes and catche a Gnatt And some doeth lose bothe leane and fatt I muse how men bewitched are To sitte in Court to gase and stare Eche one vpon an others face Maie herein resteth all the grace The Peacocke prides hym in his plume And doeth bothe tyme and wealth consume In pikyng of his feathers gaie The Cousloppe not so braue in Maie Is Courtiar is that clapps on all Who hopes for Larkes when skie doth fall Some drawes to Court when all is gon And those are called hangers on That neither wagies haue ne fee But thether come to heare and see And rubbe out tyme with lickyng crommes That droppeth out of hongrie thommes That saues a crust for Kate at home And some there be that vse to rome And prouleth for a pittaunce bare Where often emptie dishes are Some thrusteth all into the poke And hideth Manchetts vnder cloke And many other morsells sweete The almes whiche poore should haue in streete Is montcht in corners by sutche meane It is no shame to carry cleane Thei
A grace to winne and purchace freends at vewe and present sight A Toby to his children all yea Iob for happie state A father graue that well bestowd the worldly goods he gate A Iewell to Kilkenie sure when toune besieged was A worthie Burges stoute of harte that could through perills passe Of stature meane of maner milde and sure as I haue hard A verie shadowe of a sainct so shapte in some regard His ende did showe what life he ledd his neighbours doe recorde He was a plant of speciall grace and member of the Lorde Wherefore dere freends y t reads these lines be sure his soule is well And he through Christ doeth triumph still on dreadfull death and hel And sitts as safe in Abrams breast as babe in mothers lappe Moste glad are Adams ofspring all that meets sutche blessed happe FINIS ¶ The Lorde Braies Epitaphe CRie out thou worlde and Court and saie that loste ye haue A better Iewell for his daies then your desarts doe craue But small ye waie the losse of hym and others eke Of whose good nature when ye neede ye are full farre to seeke Whiche maks your plague the more though least ye thinke thereon When ofte ye wishe them here againe that long are dedde and gon As Gold from Lead is knowne sutche diffrence is in deede In men and more vnlike thei are then flowre is vnto weede Lorde Braie declares the same who was so clere a Lampe That fewe or none my iudgement giues are left vs of that stampe So currant for the Court so comely in the felde So right a sparke of Natures moulde hath here been seen but selde His face did full present a manly worthie minde His woords set forthe a further skill then all mens heds could finde His life could none mislike his Nature throughly good His hande more freely gaue awaie then worlde well vnderstood A harte where honour dwelt a corps full trimly knitte A shape as kinde had breath'd hym out a hedde where lackt no witte O Braie thou borest awaie the banner of renowne Let none thinke scorne to followe thee in feeld in court nor toune I take a heauie leaue of thee and so I cease And leaue thee flikeryng in the aire before the God of peace FINIS Sir Ihon Constables Epitaphe IN lookyng through these worldly happs so walkyng where I would And waiyng well with equall paies the weight of yearthly mould I heard a sadd and priuie voice as though some fearfull spreete In hollowe Caue or vaute of stone had spoke from shroudyng sheete It badde me looke to true report that Tymes cheef daughter is And sett a side all fonde affects whiche leads the penne amis Thou hast ê™ he for fauours sake prais'd some thou didst not knowe I was thy freende wherefore in verse my course of life doe showe These woords pronouncst he silence kept and vanisht so awaie His soule to Skies his fame to worlde his corps to clotts of claie Then to my Muse I gan repaire with harte as cold as stone And so with dolefull verse bewaield the death of good sir Ihon. Who ledde his life in greate renowne and neighbours loue with all And seru'd the state on his owne charge when prince did please to call By Northen broils that bred mutche bale and subiects trothes were tried His great good will to dueties bounds loiall faith was spied He alwaies stoode to rightfull thyngs and would not swaie a wrie To any pointe wherein reproche or losse of name did lye A freende that was not lightly loste and did good tournes bestowe Where cause requirde librall hart through bounties springs should flowe A house he kept of greate expence and daiely at his doore With that good store that God him blest he helpt to feede y â— poore He married twise in noble race and kept a noble traine And freely gaue good seruaunts Farms to recompence their paine He bare to freends sutche perfite loue that to the howre of death He neuer failed any one as long as he had breath He had greate suites and troubles too that many sorrows bryngs Yet ere he died with worship greate he ended all those thyngs He gaue good lands for Scholers weale as was the auncient gies And made an Almes house for the poore in Halsham where he lyes All Holdernesse that knewe hym well doeth misse his presence now So iuste and worthie eurie waie were all his doyngs throw But when the fruite of tree is ripe or men be at the beste Doune doe thei drop at the length in yearth with worms thei rest Yet good mens ghosts do clime the clouds drawes where God in trone Brings chosen lambs to endlesse ioy froÌ„ worldly care mone FINIS The phantasticall Monarkes Epitaphe THough Daâ—t be dedde and Marrot lies in graue And Petrarks sprite bee mounted past our vewe Yet some doe liue that Poets humours haue To keepe old course with vains of verses newe Whose penns are prest to paint out people plaine That els a sleepe in silence should remaine Come poore old man that boare the Monarks name Thyne Epitaphe shall here set forthe thy fame Thy climyng mynde aspierd beyonde the Starrs Thy loftie stile no yearthly titell bore Thy witts would seem to see through peace and warrs Thy tauntyng tong was pleasant sharpe and sore And though thy Pride and pompe was somewhat vaine The Monarcke had a deepe discoursyng braine A lone with freend he could of wonders treate In publike place pronounce a sentence greate No matche for fooles if wisemen were in place No mate at meale to sit with common sort Bothe graue of looks and fatherlike of face Of Iudgement quicke of comely forme and port Moste bent to words on hye and solempne daies Of diet fine and daintie diuerse waies And well disposde if Prince did pleasure take At any mirthe that he poore man could make On gallant robes his greatest glorie stood Yet garments bare could neuer daunt his minde He feard no state nor â—aerd for worldly good Helde eche thyng light as fethers in the winde And still he saied the strong thursts weake to wall When sworde bore swaie the Monarke should haue all The man of might at length shall Monarke bee And greatest strength shall make the feeble flee When straungers came in presence any wheare Straunge was the talke the Monarke vttred than He had a voice could thonder through your eare And speake mutche like a merrie Christmas man But sure small mirthe his matter harped on His forme of life who lists to looke vpon Did shewe some witte though follie fedde his will The man is dedde yet Monarke liueth still FINIS Epitaphes alreadie printed or out of my handes THe Epitaphe of Kyng Henry the eight 1 The Erle of Surries Epitaphe 2 The Lorde Cromwells Epitaphe 3 The Ladie Wentworthes Epitaphe 4 The Lorde Graies of Wilt on his Epitaphe 5 The Lorde Poinynges Epitaphe 6 Maister Audleis the greate Soldiours Epitaphe 7 The worthie
my hed sutche toyes as this doeth spring for lacke of sleepe FINIS This showes the vanitie of some hopes WHo liu's in hope doeth dye in deepe dispaire He lackes that looks how luckie lotts doe light Thei feele foule storms that hopes for weather faire And want cleere daie that waites to scape the night Hope hates his state and present fitte he feels And gropes for chaunce at churlishe Fortunes heel's He showes some greef that after medson seekes And pleadeth paine that prouls for pleasure sweete Who hopes for foode doeth goe with hongrie cheekes And hangs doune hedde as one that wanteth spreete Although Dispaire is neighbour nexte the worste Who holdes by Hope is more then halfe a curste Full long the birde in cage on hope maie feede The Galley slaue the self same cace maie pleade Hope comes to late to sutche as stande in neede The happlesse hath a Laborinth to treade In daungers grace thei stande amid the flood Full farre from helpe when hope can doe no good If haste make waste and fall on point of knife Or sworde through harte vnto the hilts dorth ronne In sutche extremes what hope is left of life Or where in deede for harmes should helpe be wonne The banks broke doune the streame and flood flies out And nothyng staies behinde for hope nor doubt The prisner maie that is condempde to dye For pardon hope and yet to hangyng goe A mischeef comes whils men for mercie crie As horse doeth starue whils that the gresse doeth growe Hope seru's you knowe to heaue vp harts on height That flatte on floer maie Fortune strike them streight Finis The meetyng of twoo noble knightes of the Garter si Henry Sidney and the Erle of Essex in Irelande twoo miles beyond Dradath the xxj of September and 17. yere in the raigne of our souerain ladie Quene Elizabeth AS order is the staie of states a blisse to eurie age A knot of loue a bande of peace a rule y t gouerns rage So order drue two noble wights that of the order are To mete by order as it fell a sight full strāge and rare For seide is seen in Irishe soile where order doeth but glance That ij which doth y e garter were do mete by suche a chance The one an Erle a Mars more like that God of battaill is The other sutche a Mirror knowne as Irelande maie not mis. The one hath lighted sutche a Lampe where on the rest maie gase Yea all the torches in the lande waxe dim where this doeth blase The other hath through modest meanes and Marciall maners both Pluckt frō warme brest the peoples harts y t bears good wil to troth The bruite of these are blowne so far their names therby are known These are no Gemms of forraine mines but Iewells of our owne The more that Enuie hides their praise the bigger doe thei shine As cleere renowme were shrouded safe by secret power deuine In louyng league of well won laude these lordes their liu's do lead And through this thanklesse thwartyng world y e steps of honor tread Bothe bent to serue fitte therfore their ventures claimes thesame And bothe for greatnesse of their mindes doe merite equall fame A ioye to see suche iewels ioyne so thought the lookers on A pearle of price in any place agrees with precious stone The Gods thē selu's did make this matche through ordryng things a right The heauens cast of cloudie clokes and clapt on mantells light To showe how glad the Planetts were in meetyng nobles twaine When one the other fetcht to toune with sutche a troupe and traine The season sweete and Phebus shone so cleare from christall Skie As worlde were willyng to bestowe on them a welcome eye The Prince that hath suche members here is happie sondrie waies The soldiours that shall serue them bothe shall win immortal praies The people that by outward signes an inward meanyng knewe Bade sluggishe Muses whet their skill on matter worthie vewe Then tooke I penne and put in verse these thyngs w t great post hast In larger volume looke for more if this be well embrast FINIS Of my Lorde cheef Baron that was THe Sittern sweete whose siluer sounde the sloggards witts awakes Through chaunge and choice of notes newe founde a pleasant Musicke makes The Lute that best is likte of all a solempne noyes doeth yelde And moste delites the cunnyng heddes that in that arte are skilde The Harpe whose twang and stroke is strange is vsed eury where His many stryngs and warblyng sound so mutche delites the eare The milde Recorder hath a place where sweete Concordance is The Cornet and the Howboies bothe maie matche and sound w t this The Uirginall with quiet noyes must matched be I trowe The sliller that the Musick is the better doeth it showe But some had rather heare for chaunge a cherefull ryng of bells Who fains the noies doeth pearce the aire and thonder crack expels In elder daies when stormes arose and tempests rough did rore Thei loudly rang the halloude bell for cause I told before In tounes of warre where watche ward is kept with worthy gard The Larum bell that warnyng giues in deede maie ill be spard When Prince remoues the bells thei ryng at hie feasts and times In forraine lande a noble noies is made of bells and chimes The blest birthe daie of Kyngs and Queenes w t bells is honord still In signe of Princes happie raignes and Subiects greate good will A ryng of bells is heard farre of and pleaseth many a minde Now nere thei sound then farre thei seem as bloes the gale of winde But I delite in passyng Bell for that doeth plainly shoe As one from hence doeth take his leaue so hence we all must goe A passyng Bell then shall it be that makes best Musicke here It tings and tolls what we are worthe and sounds in eare so clere That eche man knowes the passyng Bell is best in these our daies Let Lute and Sutern then giue place and yeeld to Bell the praies FINIS ¶ Of a noble personage THe Sonne that shrouds in lowryng cloudie Skies Shines clere and faire when foggie Mists are gon The mornyng Starre that slepes long ere it rise Awakes them all that listes to looke thereon The hidden gold in treasure house that lies By showe of foile setts forthe a precious stone The graines of Corne that deepe in yearth remaines Sprouts vp at length and quitts the Plowmans paines So hartes opprest that heauie are a while Laughes greef to scorne when Fortune makes them smile The Birde in cage must suffer for a space Till freedome comes and makes her proue her wings The prisners poore maie purchace Princes grace And quenche their thirst where pleasant fountaine springs The mournyng minde maie shewe a cherefull face When merrie cause a present comfort bryngs No happe so harde no greef so greate I trowe But maie through tyme conuert to ioye from woe Then sigh no
starrs or Planetts in the Skise Or fearfull slepes be warnyngs to the wise Of suddaine happs that shall betide and fall Then sure my dreame no fancie is at all At midnight laste when Cocks beganne to crowe Within my bedde I started as I slept Not well awake in slomber as I trowe I sawe a wight whose face was all be wept Whiche softly spake but boldly to me stept Who saied thou man these tears I spill for thee That lou'st thy foes and forcest not on me But since thy tong can knitt and then vntwinde And trapp thy frends whose trust is in thy trothe And sekest chaunge with sutche a greedy minde And so forgetts thy vowe and solempne othe Thou madest to me when we consented bothe To ioyne in one since thou from that doest flee The Gods graunt I shall reuenged bee But sure thy plague I pitie very sore Thy conscience shall condempne thee eury where And like as Caine his life did here abore And where he went he liued still in feare Yea so shalbe the scourge that that thou shalt beare And then at length when none shall ridde thy paine Shalt kill thy self loe so thou shalt be slaine These wordes so saied she flang out of the dore With browes ibent and angrie visage redde Wherewith I rose and lept vpon the flore And smote my breast and hanged doune the hedde And yet with paine I crept into the bedde And gaue a sigh and waked euen so And then my dreame I rouled to and fro And as I waied how clere yet stood my care And saw how dreames prou's oft too true God knowse I saied no worde but still I laye a space Till one came in and fell to brushe my close Then so from bedde a heauie man I rose Misdoubtyng still though yet full clere I was Least some ill chaunce might bryng my dreame to pas FINIS Of a harde worlde HArdnesse is hedstrong and will not be hampred Larges straite laced and Pride to mutche pampred Spende all with sparyng is so well acquainted That librall free harts in shrine maie be saincted Holdfast will giue nought wealth semeth needy Well hedde is stopped full mouthes are greedy Leane flies are feedyng that long hath been pined None maie be lookt too till honger hath dined Standbacke saieth stoutnesse let freends be first placed Flattrars are faured and trothe still defaced Meane well the harmlesse is euer kept fastyng Doe wrong dreeds nothyng the death euerlastyng Feare nought speeds better then doubt of offendyng Marre all that michar thinks nere of a mendyng Conscience can catche all yet talke muche of Iesu Neede helpe who listeth ye finde fewe that ease you Hye office forgetteth loe frends that nere failed Tyme paste nothyng thought on when some wept and wailed Seeke praies can promes and swiftly repents hym When ye call on hym full close he absents hym Newe sleights vnsaury is now the ryng leader Old trothe small set by that was the true treader Uertue abused the worlde ouer floweth What this will come to at length the Lorde knoweth Mischeef thus Maister men bent to sutche madnesse Maie change ere we ween our mirthe to great sadnesse FINIS Made against Idell and vain Rimes A Penne emploied to vertues things a croune of glory gains But idell verse small profite brings the ynke but paper stains And fills the worlde with follie greate that spryngs on fancies fitts Whiche blotts good name and dulls the minde and doeth abuse the witts The wanton ryme for reatchlesse youth a pleasant bable is Or els a Lanterne voide of light that leads poore Lambs a mis What shame is this to here how men hath loste their sence for loue And daiely dye in leude desiers that doeth mutche mischeef moue What fondnesse can be more then that when louers saie lo here The Goddes of my life and death and ground of gladsome chere What blasphemie is it to call a creature by that name Which God hymself of right should beare and best deseru's the same Put vp your pennes you Poets vaine that piuishe rimes doe make For shame leaue of your Venus songs that kéepeth vice awake Flyng all your Fables in the fire and followe vertues lore That plants the perfite feare of God where vire was graft before His feare kepes kyngs kyngdomes vp and sendeth subiects peace For blesse he but the barrain soile there eche thyng doeth increace The feelds doe florishe full of corne the Haruest is full greate The emptie Barnes maie plentie crie and hongrie findeth meate If men did waie what wealth doeth rise by feare of God alone And what faire works true wisedoms frams vpō the corner stone Thei would no other buildyngs make nor ron and gad so faste To toyes and trifles any where whose blosomes maie not laste Wherefore awaie with wanton trashe sutche ware is waxen stale Shut vp your shopps you Printers all that setts vain Rimes to sale And looke vpon the booke of life and there your cunnyng showe For all the rest but shadowes are as worthie heads doe knowe FINIS Of the vanitie of youth WHen I wanton beardlesse boye became first Venus thrall My cheeks were smoth my browes full plain and rounde as tennis ball My face well filde with liuely blood as youth did paint me out With curled heare mutche like the grasse that in the Spryng doeth sprout With Spathauks eyes in forhed set bothe graye and gredie eke And euery member furnisht well there was no thyng to seke With harte as merry as the birde that syngs on eury spraie With body cled in diuers hewes as freshe as flowre in Maie But all these beuties tooke their leaue from me a long tyme sence And in their place is come a geaste I can not tell from whence But lodge he doeth within my bones thei call hym Age I trowe A droupyng snogg that on his backe hath fardells full of woe Who nill I will I must I beare and yet it lames me mutche My shulders maie my fingers curse when thei the packe did toutche With sloupyng doune to take it vp my youth I haue let fall And after youth went my delits and body pleasures all For furred garments now I call that did in Girkin Iette And fire must kepe me from the Frost or els no warmth I gette The blood forsakes the outward parts and palenesse there remains With feuers cold and crampyng stitche are shronken vp my vaines The skinne lyes flat on eury ioynt vnsemely to your sight And I vnfit for Venus sprots by daie or candell light With eye delits I feede my luste and couetyng desire But when I should maintaine the flame I giue but smoke for fier My hollowe lookes maks some to laugh y ◠hears my youthfull tong When that for age and aking limmes my knell might well be rong I call my reatchlesse yeres to count whose recknyng fears my witts For he that maie controll the same within my conscience sitts And saieth my dallyng daies are doen
as grauer yeres encreace So should I leaue my former vice and all my follie seace Whereat I waie my short tyme here my leude life long abusde And to the glas I stept to see how youth hath me refusde As Peacocke then letts fall his taile that his black feete hath seen So cast I doune my painted sheath that once was gaie and green And welcome saie I siluer heares your hoary colour white Hath ouercome my youthfull yeres and quenched my delite FINIS VVritten of a gentleman whose name is in the verses MY happ was good to finde a fréende of sutche ripe sence and skill As could deserne by deepe foresight the weight of my good will The welcome greate for small desarts and fréendly fauour found Hath shriend my harte in Lambeth house and there my bodie bound En roule my name emong those fréendes of whom a count ye make Waie well my woords and as you doe of woorks some triall take Paies eury promes paste my mouthe and you muste looke for then A deeper draught and higher stile to come from Churchyards pen. Receiue in gree the offred gift that Newe yeres daie brings forthe Kéepe these bare verses as a pledge of matter muche more worthe And you shall heare the hammers beate thompe out other newes Releef is come to heauie hedde and comforts now my mewes Gon is the gréesly gloumyng daie that kept the Sonne in shade Out stepps my hope with sailes a flant that earst no triumph made Dispaire hath drounde hymself in seas and as cold courage sailde Good Pilotts came and sturde the sterne and so my Ship preuailde If Silla and Charibdes cliâ—es could threaten my decaie Vaine were the braggs of rustie rocks and mountains all I saie Except the Gods doe froune on me the straits I minde to pas Though shipp be forste to trie the tides where neuer ship man was Hit glads me muche that I shall saile with winde weather bothe Enbarkt with those that order kepes and holds by right and trothe Giue sea roume Lorde in stormes distresse if any tempestries Retourne I will not till it seems my barke shall touche the Skies Aloufe ye mates ron from the shore my voiage holde I on Come from your cabbeus soldiours all ere that the tide be gon Encreace your wealth and worke a pushe whiles others looke vpoÌ„ Finis Non est fides super terram THere is no faithe vpon the yearth as faithe was wont to bee For faithe with fraude and finenesse now hath chopt and changde degree Faithe is a firme and faste beléef that first from vertue came And fraude and finenesse is a wolfe that looketh like a Lamme Then where is fast beleef my fréends that neither faints nor quails But finenesse is not farre to seke and fraude you knowe preuails So as the Psalme affirmes showes no faithe on yearth we finde This hollow world hatefull daies shews nought but hollow mind We stretch out words as farre as wit and skill of man maie reach As though in deede a subtell Foxe before the Geese should preache But of good woorkes we are so spare we laie them vp in store As though thei should take leaue of world and should be séen no more Thus faithe is fled or tree is dedde that should beare fruit ye knowe Then trust no bowe that brings but leau's and blossoms for a show Beléeue no goodly painted postes that rotten are within Beleeue no fliryng fained face nor sleeke and smothed skin Beléeue no courtlike kissyng hands and bowyng bodie doune Beleeue no false dissemblyng browes that ought of Nature froune Beleeue no othes nor promes patcht and peeced with desaite Beleeue not those that feeds thine eyes with sweete pleasant baite Beleeue no tune that likes the eare and doeth displease thine harte Beleeue not hym on stage that plaies the merrie vises parte Beleeue no freend that faunes too fast he meanes to make thee faule Beleeue no sweete and sugred speache for therein lyes the Gaule Beleeue no more then good is found for badde is moste in place And goodnesse in this gracelesse tyme the people least embrace On yearth there is no faithe God wott for closely vnder tong The snake doeth lodge the serpeÌ„ts crepe there mans hart is stoÌ„g I could showe heaps of mischeeu's greate that follows maÌ„ froÌ„ birth But to the wise let this suffice there is no faithe on yearth Finis Of a disdainfull persone DIsdaine in thee doeth spot thee mutche Whose blot I see within thy browe No nother faulte in thee I toutche Of vertues all thou hast inowe Then let no braunche of vice in thee In fecte the fruite of sutche a tree For swellyng hate doeth purches foes And fretts the minde with gnawyng thought And harmelesse lookes embraseth those Whose loue for gold can not be bought And courteous speeche doeth freendship staie That froward woords doeth cast awaie Thou seest the fire consumes his heate With ragyng flames that soone are gon The greene wood smoks awaie with sweate And warms them not that laies it on So thou with scorne of angers mood But sinnes thy self and doeth no good Thou seest also the cankered knife With ruste and filth defaced cleane What bale beginns and bréeds through strife Thou seest and knowst now what I meane By this thou seest whiche is moste meete The bitter gall or Suger sweete When wrathe is spente with ore long spight And no reuenge thou haste thereby Then shalt thou lose my freendship quight A faster freend then shall I trye Now whiles thou haste the choice of twoo Doe knitt the knott or els vndoo Finis A letter to maister Cressie WHere first I footyng founde and fancie fauour sought And offred faithe with greate estates a free accesse had wrought I meane emong the rocks bothe rough and harde by kinde Where stormes doe striue and weather beats for eury blaste of winde Where growes no Grapes for wine to glad the griped brest Nor deintie heads ne wearie bones finds bedds of Doune to rest I once againe doe staye and loe suche harber haue As wandryng yers and tossed daies amid greate tempests craue Full long before this tyme as Court did me deceaue In countrey close emong sharpe shrubs I shapt by bones to leaue But dazeled dum delights did drawe my bodie thence And cleane bewitcht wilde wandryng witts where I haue wisht me sence Yet as with piuishe pompe did Pilgrime wearie waxe And knowledge sawe the cuttyng curbs of connyng courtly knacks I iudgde what diffrence was betwene the mountaines hye And carpetts fine where flatterers flocke depe disdaine doeth lye And smothely mischeef smiles yet leaues on Ladies lappes And at rebound ere ball come doune can snatch vp worldly happes The massie mountaine greate that mossie mantell weares Breeds no sutche goates nor grinnyng kidds nor fostereth no sutche feares For there poore people plaine in ragged garments goe And loues the blunt and blotlesse life and hates the painted showe And feeds as thei
Trust not to mutche vnto your selues for tickle are your staies How should your seate be settled sure or stande on stedfast grounde So propped vp with hollowe harts whose suretie is vnsounde Giue faithe to those that feares for loue and not that loue for feare Regard not those that force compells to please you eury wheare All this well waied and borne awaie 〈…〉 long your state Continually with parfite peace in 〈…〉 hate Finis Verses giuen the Quenes highnesse at windsor MY penne doeth quake in tremblyng hande as harte discouraged weart My mewes me failes my sences blushe my skill creepes backe for feare To write the verse that duetie crau's O Lodestarre clere of light Whose beautie dims the Son by daie darks the Moone by night Thou wretched mā call home those works y e carelesse bore thy name And sift the purest of those lines this verse of newe to frame You Poets all of this ripe age who hath the cunnyng braines Come moist my drie dulled pen with your sweete flowyng vaines For I write not of yearthly mould this is some sparke deuine The selfsame Goddes as I gesse pleased Parris eyne Yea Pallas witte and Iunoes praise this Venus leades awaie Th'aple of gold she hath possest in scorne of who saie naie Praise not your ladies where she comes ye courtiers for your liues Boste not in little flowryng Nimphs in maids ne married wiues Except you minde to answere this before hye Ioue in Skyes Whose Iustice will giue sentence sure against your blinded eyes A sacred Quéene a stately port what neede I cloke it more Hath won the fame of beauties boste when she least lokes therefore And least acount of beautie makes for loe full deepe in breste Her vertues blome her gifts doe budde her heauenly graces rest Whiche is the marke my pen shotes at if witte maie bring about To spread her sutche eternall fame as worlde shall nere wipe out A further gift shall tyme vnfolde if this maie fauour finde As statelier stile and higher verse shall serue the makers minde After this was deliuered all my deuises and showes in prograses euery where attended to no other purpose but for the honoryng of her highnesse moste excellent vertues Finis ¶ A Newe yeres gift to the Erle of Ormond giuen at Kilkennie when the Erle of Essex was in Irelande AN auncient gise hath been this daie for diuerse drifts Emong our freends to wishe good yere and giue some Newe yeres gifts Yea of the meanest man the greatest Prince will take And none that can conceiue good will doe freendly gifts forsake And sure this custome old in Court full long I kept Till close in bosome like a Snake cold thanklesse harts were crept But when I sawe them swell and looke for ritcher ware Yea gape for brauer blossoms gaie thā barrain branch could spare I helde my talent deere and sette my penne a side As one that scornde to sowe good corne and reape disdainfull Pride Perhapps some iudged streight this was a crauyng kinde And eager hauke for pleasaunt praie did houer in the winde I aunswere those conceits let it be tried and founde That euer to the plaiers hands did any haule rebounde Or euer any wight for twentie yeres deuice Gaue one good tourne or yelded thyng of any fame or price Then let me beare the blame of crauer in this cace O my goon Lorde who blusheth not before the niggards face To showe an emptie bagge why all our countrey knowes That Carpet knights could neuer spare the droppyng of their nose And Courtiars at receipt doe lye them selu's as nere As connyng dogge that drawes a sute and pouleth doen the dere Then this must noted be that all the paines I tooke Of faithfull mynde must needes arise and not of greedy looke Whiche minde awakes me now to haules a noble wight With welcome home and crie all haile Achilles Marciall knight Yea mightie Mars hym self thy countrey can recorde When oft from feeld thou hast retournde a victor and a Lorde That lande is threfolde blest that many sutche can showe That prince full saffe shall slepe in rest that can bid sutche men goe To serue when neede requires though hate would hide the same Who well deseru's should well belikt eche man ought haue his fame Eche thing ought be esteemd as loe the valure is I knowe no other name for gold but gold then note well this I florishe not with penne to faune or flatter here For if I finde with baser bruite ye doe begin this yere And noble nature change and tourne to other trade An other kinde of nippyng verse be sure there shalbe made For vertues sake a lone I honour you in deede So take the gift and waie it well and doe these verses reede And where the minde is fraught with any sparke of grace Redouble that so Churchyards verse shall honor Ormonds race FINIS ¶ A touche stone to trie an error from a trothe IF I maie aske and you maie tell I praie you let me knowe Why are so fewe prefarde in Court yet thether still we goe Why wanders worlde where charge is greate and chance is hardly wonne The ritche and wise exchaunge their wealthe for shadowes in the Sonne Why spend thei heaps of weightie wealth for toies and trifles light Where times and howres doe alter still and daie is tournd to night Good diet changde to basest chere good tourns to badd disgrace Good words to taūts good works to wiles plainnes finds no place Come men to gase and not to get to spende and not to spare To rise with pomp◠and fall in debt and ruine ere thei beware That bagge bare reward can court thée giue to keepe thoe warme But vnder that cold courtly knacke there lyes a further harme To countrey in thine youth or age thou must retourne againe Where lands are sold rents are shronk in seams of garmēts vaine Then tell me what good happ in court thou founds or left behinde Naie thou hast brought a corzie thence that nere shall out of minde For whiche the world shall point at thée whē scarce well worth a pin Yong maister is for all his pompe and braury he was in In court if Cocke be tournd from thée the spring will ron awrie Admit at Well thou wilt not drawe thou goest to please thine eye What are the sports and pleasures there is waityng sutche an ease Is staryng on the twinklyng starrs a thing that maie thee please Is Flattrie to be followd so is Finenesse sutthe a saint That Plainnesse must from coūtrey go and learne in court to paint O blinde beléef and boldnesse greate that thinks gaie golden hall The gladsome seate of sweete content and worldly glories all Who sailes the Seas and sees the waw's and surges rise a loft Will wishe amid those striuyng streams his feete on lande full oft But when bigge bounsyng bellowe beats against bare rotten barke And ship is tost with tomblyng tides in Winter
on the schoole That learnyng leanes vnto a rotten bowe And Science walks but like a ridyng foole Yea tong and penne are bothe to weake a toole To woorke for gaine in greedie worlde God knowes Where Fortunes flood to needlesse riuer goes Some drinkes their fill yet mak's the worlde beleue Well hedde is drie where water freely glides When poore men weepe sutche laugh within their sleue And smothly looke yet wisely watche their tides In brimmest stormes their Barks at Anker rides When fire would burne so snatche the coales awaie If fauour were in triall as it seems The noble Court a lone were Churchardes staie The fountaine hedde where bubblyng springs do plaie Is fittest place for tree but newly cropt If Cocke would ronne and Conduit were not stopt Who stands belowe and looks till Apples fall And hopes to eate that others shaketh doune Is like to catche a shadowe from a wall Or watche a ball that neuer giu's reboune Constrainde to crie to her that wears the croune I waite myne howre or foerst to parte the lande Thus helplesse man seek's helpe at Caesars hande FINIS ¶ The louers of the worlde I See their sleights and secrete science That sues to serue and are out caste I see those Dames that drawes the lines That shutts the netts when fishe are fast I see some stande and craue a looke Like eager haukes that watche their praie For want of baite thei bite the hooke Like louyng wormes thei spende the daie I see some smile that makes men smart Whiche liu's vnlearnde in louers lawes Yet with their witts and wilie arte With fondlyngs foode thei feede the Dawes Light triflyng toies will children please As well as gold or presious stones The faunyng whelpps thinkes them at ease When fleshe is gone to gnawe the bones I see thee still and quiet sorte When sutche as I the sturdie tempest tries And yeelds to shocks as swellyng surges ries More bold then wise to trouble Casars cares With bare deuise and deawe of barraine braine But dangers doubt and dread of further feares Bids homely gest be bolde and plie the maine Through hazardes greate a gobb of gold we gaine The Dice must ronne and sutche as light on lucke Maie liue from lacke and weald this worldly mucke The Marchant thriu's through ventring ship and goods If vessell scape a flawe or Pirats sleight The Soldiours gaine their fame by manly moods And winns the feeld where coward dare not feight The suter maie not sleepe in things of weight But watche and speake and venter boldly throwe Thei come by fruite that clims the highest bowe Blinde Deastnie deals the dole when all is done Toile reaps but teares and trothe hath emptie hande In vaine the wise about the worlde doeth roune For staie of state that doeth in Destnie stande The haplesse then doeth builde his house on sande No penne preuailes no seruice winns reward Till labours long by Fortune be prefard Where Ladders lacke in vaine the clouds he climes No connyng helpes nor courage can doe good At Cannon mouthe then laye doune idell Rimes And win the reste by death and losse of blood Where seas are drie in vaine we fishe the modd Where neither suite nor seruice getteth grace Flie from the foile and giue fonde Fortune place It maie be so amid the moste extreemes Whiche sitts and marks these ianglyng Iayes Yet findeth game and goodly sport To see sutche birds caught in the spraies I see them laugh when louers lowre There doettyng tyme hath taught them witte Who knowes what meanes bothe sweete and sowre Will flie the force of fancies fitte I see some sheepe but yet no fooles Whiche vse to roome emong the rout Yea skilfull scholers of the schooles For thei can chuse the fairest out The Hunter knowes the fattest Deare Amid the heard where game doeth ronne These men likewise as doeth appeare Emong the Starrs findes out the Sonne I see how crafte can cloke his care And paint his plaints in paper plaine As Marchants doe set forthe their ware And lye full loude for little gaine I see how trothe would tell his taile And through he goes emong the swarme I see how beutie makes a stale To take yong frie that thinks no harme Mutche more is seen that scapes myne eyes An Argoes were full rare to finde This is a glasse to showe the wise That wilfull loue is euer blinde It thinks it doeth it self so shroude That none can see his trade nor trace How should he walke with in a cloude When loue is written in his face Finis ¶ Of a noble mynde THe noble minde that scornes to stoupe at base and wretched things As quicke as thought mountes vp the Skies with swifte aspiryng wings Not lookyng doune to dedde delits that drounds the witts in drosse And carries weake and simple brains about with mucke and mosse But bearyng harte and hedde so hie as iudgement well maie goe The hautie sprit climes through the clouds leau's vain world beloe I meane the manly courage greate that stoutly striues for state Disdains the doltishe donghill Kites and flies the Fancons greate And commyng once to mountain topp from whence men se the vale A loft it keepes like gallant Barke that hath a bouncyng gale Then clap on cloutes and sea roume seeke adue the doubtfull shore In shallowe streame or riuers small we harbour ship no more To loftie seas whose wawes do worke with eche small wind y t bloes Set course and Barke that Pilotes sage maie se how fortune goes The minde is base that diggs and delues where Deastnie scorns to dwel In highest soiles are heauēs sought on earth is nought but hel Who holds doune hed hangs the groine a cowards hart he bears He dares not looke on shinyng Sonne that eury shadowe fears His combe is cutte his courage gon that droupes or takes disgrace The medson for a greate mischaunce is merrie chearfull face The swetest nutts and fairest fruites from topps of trees we take On highest rocks or stately bowes gaie birds their neasts thei make And nere the ground tame dawes do breed simple doues you finde The carrain Crowe flies here beloe when hauke doeth soer y e winde Wherefore let noble mindes alone their course doeth passe our skill Their harts are fild with pleasant hops that feeds their fancies still FINIS ¶ Of doubtfull hope HIs hope is harde that seeks for fire from froste And feeds on flames of eager fancie still And sowes in hope and reapes but labour loste And wisheth mutche and wastes with want of will Whose mountyng mynde builds castles in the aire And heauie harte lyes drounde in deepe dispaire O restlesse race that like the howre glasse ronns With grains of gréef and so beginns againe O fearfull Fate that all good Fortune shunns Oh torment straunge that hath no ende of paine O dreerie life that death disires in deede Whose twined state vntwistes like feeble threede FINIS Of the flantyng worlde THis worlde is
doe liue not farest with falshodd fine Nor pampred vp with Frenche conceipts mightie Spanish wine No crafte nor cautell creeps in cuppes of cold sowre whaie For gilded gobblet hides the harmes that glasse will soone bewraie So saied I long ere this so sweare I now withall So some haue founde ere Caesars daies in goodly golden hall O welcome witte well bought though deere I paied for thee Thou bringst for losse of tyme at Court in countrey gaine to me Where now myne aged limmes must grace or graue abide And Peacocke gaie let fall his plumes for all his pompe and pride And where a harber good I hope my Barke hath founde Where ship shall still finde flood at will wheÌ„ thousands are a grouÌ„d Finis A speciall trifle on a fickle woman WHen pleasure could no more desire will his wish had won When fancie past the flaming fire and loue his race had ron WheÌ„ eury ioy y t hart would haue in gladsom brest was fouÌ„d And nothing lackte that loue could craue to salue a festred wound When suites were hanged on y e hedge and plaints were out of place And liking great gaue faith in pledge y e pains should purches grace Naie rather when the fruite was had that growes on top of tree And claspyng hande tooke by good happ the Honie from the Bee And eight yeres trothe was throughly tried a proffe not coÌ„mon sure That any hauke the pearche would bide or like so long on lure Then fickle freaks made Hagard soer and shakte of bells in spite And plainly ment to come no more for Gill would plaie the Kite Her freend but past the fomyng seas and hence a space remainde But Gill would needs to take her ease for pleasure be retainde An other where O iudge my freends what wrong I suffer here And let the dealyngs of vs bothe before the worlde appere FINIS Verses written on the Muster that was made by the Pensioners before the Queene AS Mars beganne to bende his browe and Soldiours sought for warre And Vulcane made the armour shine as bright as Venus starre I listned to the Trompet loude that sounds a bloodie blaste And so emong the Marciall men an armed Pike I paste Now whether goes this noble crue ê™ I O liuely boyes Leaue of saied witt suche leaude demaunds suffice to heare the noies Of Drom and Trompet in the feeld and marche without delaye Be pleasde to serue when Prince doeth call content thee w t thy paie On went the clattryng harnes streight and vp to horse we mount The Muster maister and his clarke came bothe to take a count Of all the poulls that paste in ranke like Soldiours for the broile And paied them wages by the monthe that els would liue by spoile It was an other worlde to se the bands how trim thei weare And eury one in collours gaie his owne deuice did beare Upon the barbs that seru's for shocke wheÌ„ trompet slaughter souÌ„ds And Cannon shot like tennis balls in Soldiours lapps rebounds A goodly troupe of armed men did passe the Muster thoe Whiche was to freend as glad a sight as fearfull to the foe I sawe a sacred Sibbell sage attired in mournyng weeds Sitte sadly in her Cotche the while to see the fomyng steeds That plaied vpon the pleasant Bitte and bore the hedde so braue As though their lookes to coward mindes a tremblyng terror gaue These Palfraies praunced ore the plaine and on their backs did ride In warlike sort a worthie bande that well the horse could gide Some for deuise in firie flames were painted finely then And so about the smothryng smoke there was some arte of pen. And some weare all embrued in blood a badge of warre ye wotte That Soldiours for reward of toile in feeld haue often gotte Some leaned vnto pillars large some lacked propps to staie Some lighted candells at a torche whose Lamps did burne awaie Some flue w t wings as Cupid doth some to the clouds would clime Some hedlong fell into the seas thus loe as seru'd the tyme Thei drue in collours their deuice the showe was so sett out It me amasde and many more that there did gase about But yet I markt a freend of myne full richly trimde and cled Who shone as bright as Phebus doeth amid his golden bed He satte all closed in a hope and leaned on his arme As though he feard some outward happ or felt some inward harme And to declare some odde conceipt of fancies falne in thought As he this tyme was deckt in gold and robes full finely wrought The next daie after came he in as he some freend had loste For horse and man was throughly turnde to black froÌ„ gold emboste I dreamed on that straunge deuise when I came home at night And rouled vp and doune in hedde the noble warlike sight That I had seen the daie before and in my sweuen thoe Me thought that Cupid with a dart gaue this blacke knight a blowe That pearced through his coate of steele and stroke hym ded withall Yet Venus staied hym in her hande as he to ground did fall O bloodie boye what hast thou doen ê™ she to Cupid streight Thou shalt no more be Venus sonne by all the Gods on height I sweare a vaunt out of my sight this man shall lue againe Whereat the luke warme blood began to comfort eury vaine And gaspyng wide a breath he tooke and so recoured there I cried a loude amid my slepe and wakened with the feare Loe what it is to ronne abroad where Marciall people bee It makes men dreame of buggs and bears things that thei did see Yet suer well worthe the lookyng on the sight was that I sawe I tell you trothe a fewe sutche bands would kepe our foes in awe And beautifie bothe court and feeld and win our lande mutche fame In happie howre the Pensionars here did first begin their name In happie tyme the Prince did place sutche props about the state I saie no more in eury cace God giue them happie fate FINIS VVritten of the Queene when her highnesse was in trouble MIstrust not trothe that truely meanes for eury gellows freake Instead of wrong condempne not right no hidden wrathe to wreake Looke on the light of fautlesse life how bright her vertues shine And measure out her stepps eche one by leauell and by line Deem eache desart by vpright gesse whereby your praise shall liue If mallice would be matcht with might let hate no iudgemeÌ„t giue Enforce no feare with wrestyng witts in quiet consciens breste Leane not your ears to busie tongs whiche breedeth muche vnreste In doubtfull drifts wade not to farre it wearies but your minde Searche not to know y e secret hart whose thoughts are hard to finde Avoide froÌ„ you those hatefull hedds whiche helps to heape mishaps Be slowe to heare the flattrars voice who creepeth in your laps Embrace their lou's that wills you good sporne not at their praies