reioyce FRom Virgins wombe this day dyd spring The precious seede that onely saued man This day let man reioyce and sweetely sing Since on this day saluation fyrst began This day dyd Christe mans soule from death remooue With glorious saintes to dwell in heauen aboue This day to man came pledge of perfect peace This day to man came loue and vnitie This day mans greefe began for to surcease This day did man receyue a remedie For eche offence and euery deadly sinne With guiltie hart that erst he wandred in In Christes flocke let loue be surely plaste From Christes flocke let concorde hate expell Of Christes flocke let loue be so embraste As we in Christe and Christe in vs may dwell Christe is the aucthour of all vnitie From whence proceedeth all felicitie O syng vnto this glittering glorious king O prayse his name let euery liuing thing Let hart and voyce like Belles of syluer ring The comfort that this day did bring Let Lute let Shalme with sounde of sweete delight The ioy of Christes birth this day resight Finis F. K. 6. Easter day ALl mortall men this day reioyce In Christ that you redeemed hath By death with death sing we with voyce To him that hath appesed Gods wrath Due vnto man for sinfull path Wherein before he went astray Geue thankes to him with perfect faith That for mankind hath made this glorious day This day he rose from tombe againe Wherin his precious corse was laide Whom cruelly the Iewes had slaine With blooddy woundes full ill araide O Man be nowe no more dismaide If thou hencefoorth from sinne doo stay Of death thou needest not be afraide Christ conquered death for this his glorious day His death preuayled had no whit As Paul the Apostle well doth write Except he had vprysen yet From death to life by Godlike might With most triumphant glittering light This day his glory shined I say And made vs bright as sunne this glorious day O man aryse with Christe therefore Since he from sinne hath made thee free Beware thou fall in sinne no more But ryse as Christe dyd ryse for thee So mayst thou him in glory see When he at day of doome shal say Come thou my childe and dwell with me God Graunt vs all to see that glorious day Finis Iasper Heywood 7. For Whitsunday COme holy ghost eternall God and ease the wofull greefe That thorough the heapes of heauy sinne can no where find releefe Doo thou O God redresse The great distresse Of sinfull heauinesse Come comfort the aflicted thoughtes of my consumed hart O ryd the pearcing pricking paynes of my tormenting smart O holy Ghost graunt me That I by thee From sinne may purged be Thou art my God to thee alone I wyll commend my cause Not glittering golde nor precious stone Shall make me leaue thy lawes O teache me then the way Whereby I may Make thee my onely stay My lippes my tongue my hart and al Shall spreade thy mightie name My voyce shall neuer cease to sound The prayses of the same Yea euery liuing thing Shall sweetely syng To thee O heauenly king Finis M. Kindlemarsh 8. Who mindes to bring his shippe to happy shore Must care to knowe the lawes of wysdomes lore MY freend yf thou wylt credite me in ought To whom the trueth by tryall well appeares Nought woorth is wit till it be dearely bought There is no wysedome but in hoaric heares Yet yf I may of wysedome oft define As well as others haue of happinesse Then to my woordes my freende thy eare encline The thinges that make thee wyse are these I gesse Feare God and knowe thy selfe in eche degree Be freend to all familier but to fewe Too light of credite see thou neuer be For tryall oft in trust dooth treason shewe To others faultes cast not to much thy eye Accuse no man of gilt amend thy owne Of medling much dooth mischiefe oft aryse And oft debate by tickle tongue is sowne What thing thou wylt haue hid to none declare In woorde or deede beware of had I wist So spend thy good that some thou euer spare For freendes like Haukes doo soare from emptie fist Cut out thy coate according to thy cloth Suspected persons see thou alwayes flee Beleeue not him that once hath broke his troth Nor yet of gift without desart be free Time quickly slips beware how thou it spend Of wanton youth repentes a painefull age Beginne nothing without an eye to th end Nor bowe thyne eare from counsell of the sage If thou to farre let out thy fancie slip And witlesse wyll from reasons rule outstart Thy folly shall at length be made thy whippe And sore the stripes of shame shal cause thee smart To doo too much for olde men is but lost Of freendship had to women comes like gaine Bestowe not thou on children to much cost For what thou dooest for these is all in vayne The olde man or he can requite he dyes Vnconstant is the womans waueryng minde Full soone the boy thy freendship wyl despise And him for loue thou shalt vngratefull finde The aged man is like the barren ground The woman like the Reede that wagges with winde There may no trust in tender yeeres be found And of the three the boy is most vnkinde If thou haue found a faithfull freend in deede Beware thou lose not loue of such a one He shall sometime stand thee in better steede Then treasure great of golde or precious stone Finis Iasper Heywood 9. Of the vnconstant stay of fortunes giftes IF Fortune be thy stay thy state is very tickle She beares a double face disguised false and fickle This day she seemes to smile to morrowe wyl she frowne What nowe she sets aloft anone she throweth downe Fly Fortunes sly deseytes let Vertue be thy guide If that you doo intend in happy state to bide Vpon the setled Rocke thy building surest standes Away it quickly weares that resteth on the sandes Dame Vertue is the Rocke that yeeldes assured stay Dame Fortune is the Sand that skowreth soone away Chuse that is certaine let thinges vncertayne passe Preferre the precious golde before the brittle glasse Sly Fortune hath her sleightes she plaies vpon the packe Looke whom she fauours most at length she turnes to wracke But Vertue simply deales she shuns deceitfull trayne Who is by Fortune raysed vp shall neuer fall againe Sticke fast to Vertue then that geues assured trust And fly from Fortunes freekes that euer prooue vniust Finis F. K. 10. Promise is debt IN my accompt the promise that is vowed Among the good is holden such a debt As he is thought no whit to be alowed That setteth light his promise to forget And for my part I wyl not linke in loue With fickle folke whose fancies oft remoue My happy gaine I doo esteeme for such As fewe haue found in these our doutful dayes To finde a freend I thinke it be as much Aste winne a fort
And frendship hath receiued suche wounde as he is almoste deade And hatefull harte with malice greate so boyles in cankerd minde That flatteries flearyng in my face had almoste made me blinde But now I see all is not golde that glittereth in the eye Nor yet suche frends as thei professe as now by profe I finde Though secret spight by craft hath made a coate of Panters skin And thinks to finde me in the shade by sleight to wrapp me in Yet God be praised my eye is cleare and can beholde the Sonne When falshood dares not once appeare to ende that he begonne Thus tyme shall trie the thyng amisse whiche God sone shortly sende And turne the hatte that fained is to be a faithfull frende Finis THe Spider with greate skill doeth trauell daie by daie His limmes no tyme lye still to set his house in staie And when he hath it wrought thinkyng therein to raigne A blast of winde vnthought doeth driue it doune againe The profe whereof is true to make his worke indure He paines hym self a newe in hope to dwell more sure Or in some secret place a corner of the wall He trauaileth a spare to builde and rest with all His pleasure swete to staie when he to rest is bent An vgly shamble Flie approcheth to his tent And there entends by forse his labours greate to win Or els to yelde his corse by fatall death therein Thus is the Spiders nest from tyme to tyme throwne downe And he to labour prest with endles pains vnknowne So suche as louers be like trauell doe attaine Those endles works ye see â—er alwaies full of paine W. Hunis THe subtill â—â—â—y sleights that worldly men doe worke The freÌ„dly showes vnder whose shade most craft doth ofteÌ„ lurke Enforceth me alas with yernfull voice to saie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie The birde that dreds no guile is sonest caught in snare Eche gentle harte deuoide of craft is sonest brought to care Good nature sonest trapt whiche giues me cause to saie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie I see the serpent vile that lurks vnder the grene How subtelly he shrouds hym self that he maie not be sene And yet his fosters bane his leryng looks bewraie Wo worthe the wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie Wo worthe the fainyng looks one fauour that doe waite Wo worthe the fained frendly harte that harbours depe deceit Wo worthe the Vipers broode oh chrise wo worthe I saie All worldly wily heads that seeks the simple mans decaie Finis M. Edwards WIth painted speache I list not proue my cunnyng for to trie Norâ—et will vse to fill my penne with gilefull flatterie With pen in hand and harte in breast shall faithfull promise make To loue you best and serue you moste for your great vertues sake And since dame Nature hath you deckt with gifts aboue the rest Let not disdaine a harbour finde within your noble brest For loue hath ledd his lawe alike to men of eche degree So that the begger with the prince shall loue as well as he I am no prince I must confesse nor yet of princes line Nor yet a brutishe begger borne that feeds among the Swine The fruite shall trie the tree at last the blossomes good or no Then doe not iudge of me the worse till you haue tried me so As I deserue so then reward I make you iudge of all If I be false in worde or deede let lightnyng thunder fall And furies fell with franticke fitts bereue and stopp my breathe For an example to the rest if I shall breake my faithe Finis M. B. Trie and then trust THe sainct I serue and haue besought full oft Vpon my knees to stande my Goddes good With hope did holde my head sometyme aloft And fed my faunyng frende with daintie foode But now I see that words are nought but winde The sweter meate the sowrer sauce I finde Thus while I helde the Ele by the taile I had some hope yet neuer wanted feare Of double dread that man can neuer faile That will presume to take the Wolfe by the eare I snatche for sothe muche like to Esops dogg I sought for fishe and alwaies caught a frogg Thus did I long bite on the fomyng bitt Whiche found me plaie enough vnto my paine Thus while I loued I neuer wanted fitt But liued by losse and sought no other gaine But why should I mislike with Fortunes fetters Since that the like haue hapt vnto my betters Richard Hill. Complainyng to his frende he replieth wittely A. THe fire shall freese the frost shall frie the frozen mountains hie B. what straÌ„ge thinges shal dame nature force to turne her course awrie A. My Ladie hath me left and taken a newe man B. This is not straunge it happes oft tymes the truthe to scan A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. ethe one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. By skilfull meanes I her reclaime to stope vnto my luer B. Suche hagard haukes will sore awaie of them who can be fuct A. With siluer bells and hoode my ioye was her to decke B. She was full gorgd she would the soner giue the checke A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Her chirping lippes would chirp to me swete wordes of her desire B. Suche chirping birdes who euer sawe to preach still â—n one brire A. She saied she loued me dests and would doe till she die B. She saied in wordes she thought it not as tyme doeth trie A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Can no man winne a woman so to make her loue endure B. To make the Foxe his wiles to leaue what man will put in vre A. Why then there is no choice but all women will chaunge B. As men doe vse so some women doe loue to raunge A. The more is my paine B. her loue then refraine A. Who thought she would flitt B. eche one that hath witt A. Is not this straunge B. light loue will chaunge A. Sithe slipper gaine falles to my lot farwell that glidyng praie B. Sithe that the dice doeth runne a wrie betimes leaue of thy plaie A. I will no more lament the thyng I maie not haue B. Then by exchaunge the losse to come all shalt thou saue A. Loue will I refraine B. thereby thou shalt gaine A. With losse I will leaue B. she will thee deceiue A. That is not straunge B. then let her raunge M. Edwards No paines comparable to his attempt VVHat watche what we what want what wracke Is due to those that
loue and leaue is all that I entend And yf you prooue in part and finde my counsell true Then wyshe me well for my good wyll t is all I craue adewe Finis My lucke is losse The perfect tryall of a faythfull freend NOt stayed state but feeble stay Not costly robes but bare aray Not passed wealth but present want Not heaped store but sclender skant Not plenties purse but poore estate Not happy happe but froward fate Not wyshe at wyll but want of ioy Not harts good health but hartes annoy Not freedomes vse but prisons thrall Not costly seate but lowest fall Not weale I meane but wretched woe Dooth truely trye the freend from foe And nought but froward fortune proues Who fawning faines or simply loues Finis Yloop. No pleasure without some payne SWeete were the ioyes that both might like and last Strange were the state exempt from all distresse Happy the lyfe that no mishap should tast Blessed the chaunce might neuer change successe Were such a lyfe to leade or state to proue Who would not wyshe that such a lyfe were loue But O the sowry sauce of sweete vnsure When pleasures flye and flee with wast of winde The trustlesse traynes that hoping hartes allure When sweete delightes doo but allure the minde When care consumes and wastes the wretched wight Whyle fancy feedes and drawes of her delight What lyfe were loue yf loue were free from payne But O that payne with pleasure matcht should meete Why dyd the course of nature so ordayne That sugred sowre must sause the bitter sweete Which sowre from sweete might any meanes remoue What happe what heauen what lyfe were lyke to loue Finis E. S. 1. Our pleasures are vanities BEhold the blast which blowes the blossomes from the tree The end whereof consumes and comes to nought we see Ere thou therefore be blowen from life that may not last Begin for grace to call for time mispent and past Haue mind on brittle life whose pleasures are but vayne On death likewyse bethinke how thou maist not remaine And feare thy Lord to greene which sought thy soule to saue To synne no more be bent but mercie aske and haue For death who dooth not spare the kinges on earth to kill Shall reape also from thee thy pleasure life and will. That lyfe which yet remaynes and in thy brest appeares Hath sowne in thée sutch seedes you ought to weede with teares And life that shall succeede when death is worne and past Shall spring for euer then in ioy or paine to last Where death on life hath power ye see that life also Hath mowen the fruites of death which neuer more shall growe FINIS D. S. 2. M. Edwardes MAY. WHen MAY is in his prime then MAY eche hart reioyce When MAY bedeckes eche branch with greene eche bird streines forth his voyce The liuely sappe creepes vp into the bloming thorne The flowres which cold in prison kept now laughes the frost to scorne All natures Impes triumphes whyles ioyfull May dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasant time is past MAY makes the cherfull hue MAY breedes and bringes newe blood MAY marcheth throughout euery limme MAY makes the mery moode MAY pricketh tender hartes their warbling notes to tune Ful strange it is yet some wee see doo make their MAY in Iune Thus thinges are straungely wrought whyles ioyfull MAY doth last Take MAY in time when MAY is gone the pleasant time is past All ye that liue on earth and haue your MAY at wyll Reioyce in MAY as I doo now and vse your MAY with skill Vse MAY whyle that you may for MAY hath but his time When all the fruite is gone it is to late the tree to clime Your liking and your lust is freshe whyles MAY dooth last When MAY is gone of all the yeere the pleasaunt time is past Finis 3. Faire woordes make fooles faine IN youthfull yeeres when fyrst my young desyres began To pricke mee foorth to serue in Court a sclender tall young man. My Fathers blessing then I askt vpon my knee Who blessing me with trembling hand these woordes gan say to me My sonne God guide thy way and shielde thee from mischaunce And make thy iust desartes in Court thy poore estate to aduaunce Yet when thou art become one of the Courtly trayne Thinke on this prouerbe olde qd he that faire woordes make fooles faine This counsell grauely geuen most strange appeares to me Tyll tract of time with open eyes had made me plainely see What subtill sleightes are wrought by painted tales deuise When hollowe hartes with freendly shoes the simple doo entise To thinke al golde that shines to feede their fonde desire Whose shiuering cold is warmd with smoke in stead of flaming fire Sith talke of tickle trust dooth breede a hope most vaine This prouerbe true by proofe I finde that faire woordes make fooles faine Faire speache alway doeth well where deedes insue faire woordes Faire speache againe alway dooth euil that busshes geues for birdes Who hopes to haue fayre woordes to trye his luckie lot If I may counsel let him strike it whyle the iron is hotte But them that feede on cloddes in steade of pleasaunt grapes And after warning often geuen for better lucke still gapes Full loth I am yet must I tell them in woordes plaine This prouerbe old proues true in them that faire words makes fooles faine Wo woorth the time that woordes so slowly turne to deedes Wo worth the time that faire sweete floures are growē to rotten weedes But thrise wo woorth the time that trueth away is fled Wherein I see how simple hartes with woordes are vainely fed Trust no faire woordes therefore where no deedes doo ensue Trust words as skilful Falkeners doo trust Haukes that neuer flew Trust deedes let wodrdes be woordes which neuer wrough me gaine Let my experience make you wyse and let woordes make fooles faine M. Edwardes 4. In his extreame sycknesse What greeues my bones and makes my body faint What prickes my flesh and teares my head in twaayne Why doo I wake when rest should me attaynt When others laugh why doo I liue in paine I tosse I turne I change from side to side And stretche me oft in sorowes linkes betyde I tosse as one betost in waues of care I turne to flee the woes of lothsome lyfe I change to spie yf death this corps might spare I stretche to heauen to ridde me of this strife Thus doo I stretche and change and tosse and turne Whyle I in hope of heauen by life doo burne Then holde thee still let be thy heauinesse Abolishe care forgeat thy pining woe For by this meanes soone shalt thou finde redresse When oft betost hence thou to heauen must goe Then tosse and turne and tumble franke and free O happy thryse when thou in heauen shalt be Finis L. Vaux 5. For Christmas day Reioyce reioyce with hart and voyce In Christes birth this day
wherin we liued My ladyes life alas is gone most cruel death hath it bereued Whose vertues her to God hath wonne And least me here a man vndone Finis F. G. 24. A woorthy dittie song before the Queenes Maiestie at Bristowe MIstrust not troth that truely meanes for euery ielous freke In steade of wrong condemne not right no hiddeÌ„ wrath to wreke â–ª Looke on the light of faultlesse life how bright her vertues shine And measure out her steppes eche one by leuel and by line Deeme eche desert by vpright gesse whereby your prayse shal liue If malice would be match with might let hate no iudgement geue Enforse no feare with wresting wittes in quiet conscience brest Lend not your eares to busie tongues which breedeth much vnrest In doubtfull driftes wade not to farre it weeries but the mind Seeke not to search the secret harts whose thoughtes are hard to find Auoide from you those hatefull heads that helpes to heape mishapp Be flowe to heare the flatterers voyce which creepeth in your lapp Embrace their loue that wills you good and sport not at their praise Trust not too much vnto your selfe for feeble are your staies Howe can your seate be setled fast or stand on stedfast ground So propped vp with hollowe hartes whose suertie is vnsound Geue faith to those that feare for loue and not that loue for feare Regard not them that force compels to please you euery where All this well waide and borne away shall stablishe long your state Continually with perfect peace in spite of puffing hate Finis D. S. 26. His good name being blemished he bewayleth FRaud is the front of Fortune past all recouerie I stayles stand to abide the shocke of shame and infamie My life through lingring long is lodge in lare of lothsome wayes My death delaide to keepe from life the harme of haplesse dayes My sprites my hart my witte and force in deepe distresse are dround The only losse of my good name is of these greefes the ground And since my mind my wit my head my voyce and tongue are weake To vtter mooue deuise conceiue sound foorth declare and speake Such pearsing plaintes as answeare might or would my wofull case Helpe craue I must and craue I wyll with teares vpon my face Of al that may in heauen or hell in earth or ayre be found To wayle with me this losse of mine as of these greefes the ground Helpe gods helpe saintes helpe sprites powers that in the heauen doo dwel Helpe ye that are to wayle aye woont ye howling hounds of hel Helpe man helpe beasts helpe birds wormes that on the earth doth toile Helpe fishe helpe foule that flocks and feedes vpon the salt sea soyle Helpe eccho that in ayre dooth flee shryl voyces to resound To wayle this losse of my good name as of these greefes the ground Finis E. O. 27. Of Fortunes power POlicrates whose passing happe causd him to lose his fate A golden ryng cast in the seas to change his constant state And in a fishe yet at his bourd the fame he after found Thus Fortune loe to whom she takes for bountie dooth abound The myzers vnto might she mountes a common case we see And mightie in great miserie she sets in lowe degree Whom she to day dooth reare on hie vpon her whitling wheele To morowe next shedingeth downe and casteth at her heele No measure hath shee in her gifts shee doth reward eache sort The wise that counsell haue no more then fooles that maketh sport Shee vseth neuer partiall handes for to offend or please Geue me good Fortune all men sayes and throw me in the seas It is no fault or worthines that makes men fall or rise I rather be borne Fortunate then to be very wise The blindest man right soone that by good Fortune guided is To whome that pleasant Fortune pipes can neuer daunce amis Finis M. Edwardes 28. Though Triumph after bloudy warres the greatest brags do beare Yet Triumph of a conquered minde the crowne of Fame shall weare WHo so doth marke the carelesse life of these vnhappie dayes And sees what small and slender hold the state of vertue stayes He findes that this accursed trade proceedeth of this ill That men be giuen too much to yeelde to their vntamed will. In lacke of taming witlesse wil the poore we often see Enuies the ritch because that he his equall cannot bee The rich aduauned to might by wealth from wrong doth not refraine But will oppresseth weaker sort to heape excessiue gaine If Fortune were so blinde to geue to one man what he will A world would not suffise the same if he might haue his fill We wish we searche we striue for all and haue no more therin Then hath the slaue when death doth come though Cresus welth we win In getting much we get but care such brittle wealth to keepe The rich within his walles of stone doth neuer soundly sleepe When poore in weake and slender house doe feare no losse of wealth And haue no further care but this to keepe them selues in health Affection may not hide the sword of sway in iudgement seat Least partiall law doe execute the lawe in causes great But if the minde in constant state affection quite doe leaue The higher state shall haue their rights the poore no wrong receaue It is accompted greater praise to Ceasars loftie state Against his vanquist foes in warres to bridle wrekefull hate Then when to Rome he had subdued the people long vnknowne Wherby as farre as land was found the same abrode was â—lowne If honor can selfe will refuse and iustice be vpright And priuate state desires but that which good appeares in sight Then vertue shall with soueraigne show to euery eye reueale A heauenly life a wealefull state a happie common weale Let vertue then the Triumph win and gouerne all your deedes Your yeelding to er sober heastes immortall glory breede Shee shall vpreare your worthy name shew then vnto the skies Her beames shall shine in graue obscure where shrined carkesse lâ—es Finis M. Edwardes 29 Of perfect wisedome WHo so will be accompted wise and truely claime the same By ioyning vertue to his deedes he must atchieue the same But fewe there be that seeke thereby true wisedome to attaine O God so rule our hearts therefore such fondnesse to refraine The wisedome which we moste esteeme in this thing doth consist With glorious talke to shew in wordes our wisedome when we list Yet not in talke but seemely deedes our wisedome we should place To speake so faire and doe but ill doth wisedome quite disgrace To bargaine well and shunne the losse a wisedome counted is And thereby through the greedie coyne no hope of grace to mis. To seeke by honoure to aduaunce his name to brittle praise Is wisedome which we daâ—ly see increaseth in our dayes But heauenly wisedome sower seemes to hard for them to win And weary of the sute they seeme when
braine Could kepe thee from their trecherie Suche Sirens haue we now adaies That tempt vs by a thousande waies Thei syng thei daunce thei sport thei plaie Thei humbly fall vpon their knees Thei sigh thei sobb thei prate thei praie With suche dissemblyng shifts as these Thei calculate thei chaunt thei charme To conquere vs that meane no harme Good ladies all letts ioyne in one And banishe cleane this Siren kinde What nede we yelde to heare their mone Since their deceipt we daiely finde Let not your harts to them apply Defie them all for so will I. And if where Circes now doeth dwell You wisht you witt aduise to learne Loe I am she that best can tell Their Sirens songes and them discerne For why experience yeldeth skill To me that scapt that Sirens ill Finis M. Bew. 55. Findyng no ioye he desireth death THe Cony in his caue the Feret doeth anoye And fleyng thence his life to saue him self he doeth destroye His Berrie rounde about besett with hunters snares So that when he to scape starts out is caught therein vnwares Like choise poore man haue I to bide and rest in loue Or els from thence to start and still as bad a death to proue I see in loue to rest vnkindnesse doeth pursue To rent the harte out of his breast whiche is a louer true And if from loue I starte as one that loue forsaks Then pensiue thoughts my harte doeth perse so my life it taks Thus then to fly or bide harde is the choise to chuse Since death hath caÌ„pde treaÌ„hed eche side saith life now refuse Content I am therefore my life therein to spende And death I take a salue for sore my wearie daies to ende And thus I you request that faithfull loue professe When carcas cased is in chest and bodie laied on hears Your brinishe teares to saue suche as my corse shall moue And therewith write vpon my graue behold the force of loue W. H. Hope well and haue well IN hope the Shipman hoiseth saile in hope of passage good In hope of health the sickly man doeth suffer losse of bloud In hope the prisoner linckt in chaines hopes libertie to finde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mynd In hope desire getts victorie in hope greate comfort spryngs In hope the louer liues in ioyes he feares no dreadfull flyngs In hope we â—iue and maie abide suche stormes as are assignde Thus hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled mind In hope we easely suffer harme in hope of future tyme In hope of fruite the pain semes swete that to the tree doeth clime In hope of loue suche glory growes as now by profe I finde That hope breds helth helth breds ease to euery troubled minde W. H. He repenteth his folly WHeÌ„ first mine eyes did vew marke thy beautie faire for to behold And wheÌ„ myne eares gan first to harke the pleasant words that thou me told I would as theÌ„ I had been free froÌ„ eares to heare eyes to se And when my hands did handle oft that might thee kepe in memorie And when my feete had gone so softe to finde and haue thy companie I would eche hande a foote had been and eke eche foote a hand so seen And when in minde I did consent to followe thus my fansies will And when my harte did first relent to tast suche baite my self to spill I would my harte had been as thine or els thy harte as soft as myne TheÌ„ should not I suche cause haue fouÌ„d to wish this moÌ„strus sight to se Ne thou alas that madest the wounde should not deny me remedy Then should one will in bothe remain to grauÌ„t one hart whiche now is twaine W. H. He requesteth some frendly comfort affirmyng his constancie THe mountaines hie whose loftie topps doeth mete the hautie sky The craggie rocke that to the sea free passage doeth deny The aged Oke that doeth resist the force of blustryng blast The pleasaunt herbe that euery where a fragrant smell doeth cast The Lyons forse whose courage stout declares a princlike might The Eagle that for worthinesse is borne of kyngs in fight The Serpent eke whose poisoned waies doeth belche out venim vile The lothsome Tode that shunneth light and liueth in exile These these I saie and thousands more by trackt of tyme decaie And like to tyme doe quite consume and vade from forme to claie But my true harte and seruice vowed shall last tyme out of minde And still remaine as thine by dome as Cupid hath assignde My faithe loe here I vowe to thee my trothe thou knowest right well My goods my frends my life is thine what nede I more to tell I am not myne but thine I vowe thy hests I will obeye And serue thee as a seruaunt ought in pleasyng if I maie And sith I haue no fliyng wings to see thee as I wishe Ne finnes to cut the siluer streames as doeth the glidyng fishe Wherefore leaue now forgetfulnesse and sende againe to me And straine thy azured vaines to write that I maie greetyng see And thus farewell more deare to me then chiefest frende I haue Whose loue in harte I minde to shrine till death his fee doe craue M. Edwards He complaineth his mishapp SHall rigor raigne where youth hath ron shall fansie now forsake Shall fortune lose that fauour wonne shall not your anger flake Shall hatefull harte be had in you that frendly did pretende Shall slipper thoughts and faithe vntrue that harte of yours defende Shall nature shewe your beautie faire that gentle semes to be Shall frowardnesse your fancies ayer be of more force then she Shall now disdaine the dragg of death direct and leade the waie Shall all the imps vpon the yearth reioyce at my decaie Shall this the seruice of my youth haue suche reward at last Shall I receiue rigor for ruth and be from fauour cast Shall I therefore berent my harte with wights that wishe to dye Or shall I bathe my self with teares to feede your fickle eye No no I shall in paine lye still with Turtle doue moste true And vowe my self to witt and will their counsels to ensue Good Ladies all that louers be your helpe hereto purtende Giue place to witt let reason seme your enemie to defende Lest that you thinke as I haue thought your self to striue in vaine And so to be in thraldome brought with me to suffer paine Finis M.H. No foe to a flatterer I Would it were not as I thinke I would it were not so I am not blinde although I winke I feele what winds doe blowe I knowe where craft with smilyng cheare creps into bloudy brest I heare how fained speache speaks faire where hatred is possest I se the Serpent lye and Iurck vnder the grene alowe I see hym watche a tyme to worke his poyson to bestowe In frendly looks suche fraude is founde as faithe for feare is fleade
dearly bought Lo I am he that plaies within her maze And finds no waie to get the same I sought But as the Dere are driuen vnto the gaze And to augment the grief of my desire My self to burne I blowe the fire But shall I come ny you Of forse I must flie you What death alas maie be compared to this I plaie within the maze of my swete foe And when I would of her but craue a kis Disdaine enforceth her awaie to goe My self I check yet doe I twiste the twine The pleasure hers the paine is myne But shall I come ny you Of forse I must flie you You courtly wights that wants your pleasant choise Lende me a floud of teares to waile my chaunce Happie are thei in loue that can reioyse To their greate paines where fortune doeth aduaunce But sith my sute alas can not preuaile Full fraight with care in grief still will I waile Sith you will needs flie me I maie not come ny you Finis L.V. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth IF care or skill could conquere vaine desire Or reasons raines my strong affection staie Then should my sights to quiet breast retire And shunne suche signes as secret thoughts bewraie Vncomely loue whiche now lurks in my breast Should cease my grief through wisdoÌ„s power opprest But who can leaue to looke on Venus face Or yeldeth not to Iunos high estate What witt so wise as giues not Pallas place These vertues rare eche Godds did yelde amate Saue her alone who yet on yearth doeth reigne Whose beauties stryng no Gods can well destraine What worldly wight can hope for heauenly hire When onely sights must make his secret mone A silent sute doeth seâ—de to Grace aspire My haples happe doeth role to restles stone Yet Phebe faire disdainde the heauens aboue To ioye on yearth her poore Endimions loue Rare is reward where none can iustly craue For chaunce is choise where reason maks no claime Yet lucke sometymes dispairyng souls doeth saue A happie starre made Giges ioye attaine A slauishe Smith of rude and rascall race Founde means in tyme to gaine a Goddes grace Then loftie Loue thy sacred sailes aduaunce My sithyng seas shall flowe with streames of teares Amidds disdaine driue forthe my dolefull chaunce A valiaunt minde no deadly daunger feares Who loues alofte and setts his harte on hie Deserues no paine though he doe pine and die Finis M.B. ¶ A louer reiected complaineth THe tricklyng teares that fales along my cheeks The secret sighs that showes my inward grief The present paines perforce that loue aye seeks Bidds me renew my cares without relief In wofull song in dole displaie My pensiue harte for to bewraie Bewraie thy grief thou wofull harte with speede Resigne thy voyce to her that causde thy woe With irksome cries bewaile thy late doen deede For she thou louest is sure thy mortall foe And helpe for thee there is none sure But still in paine thou must endure The striken Deare hath helpe to heale his wounde The haggerd hauke with toile is made full tame The strongest tower the Canon laies on grounde The wisest witt that euer had the fame Was thrall to Loue by Cupids sleights Then waie my case with equall waights She is my ioye she is my care and wo She is my paine she is my ease therefore She is my death she is my life also She is my salue she is my wounded sore In fine she hath the hande and knife That maie bothe saue and ende my life And shal I liue on yearth to be her thral And shall I sue and serue her all in vaine And kisse the stepps that she let ts fall And shall I praie the gods to kepe the pain From her that is so cruell still No no on her woorke all your will. And let her feele the power of all your might And let her haue her moste desire with speede And let her pine awaie bothe daie and night And let her moue and none lament her neede And let all those that shall her se Dispise her state and pitie me Finis E. O. ¶ Not attainyng to his desire he complaineth I Am not as seme to bee Nor when I smile I am not glad A thrall although you count me free I moste in mirthe moste pensiue sadd I smile to shade my bitter spight As Haniball that sawe in sight His countrey soile with Carthage toune By Romaine force defaced doune And Caesar that presented was With noble Pompeyes princely hedd As t were some iudge to rule the case A floud of teares he semde to shedd Although in deede it sprong of ioye Yet others thought it was annoye Thus contraries be vsed I finde Of wise to cloke the couert minde I Haniball that smiles for grief And let you Caesars teares suffice The one that laughs at his mischief The other all for ioye that cries I smile to see me scorned so You wepe for ioye to see me wo And I a harte by loue slaine dead Presents in place of Pompeyes head O cruell happ and harde estate That forceth me to loue my foe Accursed be so foule afate My choise for to profixe it so So long to fight with secret sore And finde no secret salue therefore Some purge their paine by plaint I finde But I in vaine doe breathe my winde Finis E. O. ¶ His mynde not quietly setled he writeth this EVen as the waxe doeth melt or dewe consume awaie Before the Sonne so I behold through careful thoughts decaie For my best lucke leads me to suche sinister state That I doe wast with others loue that hath my self in hate And he that beats the bushe the wished birde not getts But suche I see as sitteth still and holds the foulyng netts The Drone more honie sucks that laboureth not at all Then doeth the Bee to whose most pain least pleasure doth befall The Gardner sowes the seeds whereof the flowers doe growe And others yet doe gather them that tooke lesse paine I knowe So I the pleasaunt grape haue pulled from the Vine And yet I languish in greate thirst while others drinke the wine Thus like a wofull wight I woue my webb of woe The more I would wede out my cares the more thei seme to grow The whiche betokeneth hope forsaken is of me That with the carefull culuer climes the worne withered tree To entertaine my thoughts and there my happe to mone That neuer am lesse idle lee then when I am alone Finis E. O. ¶ Of the mightie power of Loue. MY meanyng is to worke what wondes loue hath wrought Wherwith I muse why meÌ„ of wit haue loue so derely bought For loue is worse then hate and eke more harme hath doen Record I take of those that rede of Paris Priams sonne It semed the God of slepe had mazed so muche his witts When he refused witt for loue whiche cometh but by fitts But why accuse I hym whom yearth hath couered long There be of his
posteritie aliue I doe hym wrong Whom I might well condempne to be a cruell iudge Vnto my self who hath the crime in others that I grudge Finis E. O. ¶ Beyng disdained he complaineth IF frendlesse faithe if giltlesse thought maie shield If simple truthe that neuer ment to swerue If dere desire accepted frute doe yield If greedie lust in loyall life doe serue Then maie my plaint bewaile my heauie harme That sekyng calme haue stombled on the storme My wonted cheare ecclipsed by the cloude Of deepe disdaine through errour of reporte If wearie woe enwrapped in thy shroude Lies slaine by tonge of the vnfrendly sorte Yet heauen and yearth and all that nature wrought I call to vowe of my vnspotted thought No shade I seke in parte to shilde my taint But simple truthe I hunt no other sute On that I gape the issue of my plaint If that I quaile let iustice me confute If that my place emongs the giltles sort Repaie by dome my name and good report Goe heauie verse persue desired grace Where pittie shrinde in cell of secret brest Awaits my hast the rightfull lott to place And lothes to see the giltles man opprest Whose vertues great haue crouned her more with fame Then kyngly state though largely shine the same Finis L. Vaux ¶ Of the meane estate THe higher that the Ceder tree vnder the heauens doe growe The more in danger is the top when sturdie winds gan blowe Who iudges then in princely throne to be deuoide of hate Doeth not yet knowe what heapes of ill lies hid in suche estate Suche dangers greate suche gripes of minde suche toile doe thei sustaine That oftentimes of God thei wishe to be vnkyngde againe For as the huge mightie rocks withstande the ragyng seas So kyngdoms in subiection be whereas dame Fortune please Of brittle ioye of smilyng cheare of honie mixt with gall Allotted is to euery Prince in fredome to be thrall What watches longe what stepps vnsure what grefes and cares of minde What bitter broiles what endles toiles to kyngdoms be assingde The subiect then maie well compare with prince for plesant daies Whose silent might bryngs quiet rest whose might no storme bewraies How muche be we then bounde to God who suche prouision maks To laye our cares vpon the Prince thus doeth he for our saks To hym therefore let vs lift vp our harts and praie a maine That euery Prince that he hath plast maie long in quiet raigne Finis L. V. ¶ Of a contented mynde VVHen all is doen and saied in the ende thus shall you finde The moste of all doeth bathe in blisse that hath a quiet minde And clere from worldly cares to deame can be content The swetest tyme in all his life in thinkyng to be spent The bodie subiect is to fickle Fortunes power And to a million of mishapps is casuall euery hower And death in tyme doeth chaunge it to a clodde of claye When as the mynde whiche is deuine runnes neuer to decaie Companion none is like vnto the mynde alone For many haue been harmde by speache through thinking fewe or none Fewe oftentymes restraineth words but maks not thoughts to cease And he speaks best that hath the skill when for to holde his peace Our wealth leaues vs at death our kinsmen at the graue But vertues of the mynde vnto the heauens with vs we haue Wherefore for vertues sake I can be well content The swetest tyme of all my life to deme in thinkyng spent Finis L. Vaux ¶ Trie before you trust TO counsell my estate abandonde to the spoile Of forged frendes whose grosest fraude it set with finest foile To verifie true dealyng wights whose trust no treason dreads And all to deare thacquaintance be of suche moste harmfull heads I am aduised thus who so doeth frende frende so As though to morrowe next he feared for to become a fo To haue a fained frende no perill like I finde Oft fleryng face maie mantell best a mischief in the mynde A paire of angels eares oft tymes doeth hide a serpents harte Vnder whose gripes who so doeth come to late cōplaines the smart Wherefore I doe aduise who so doeth frende frende soe As though to morrowe next he should become a mortall foe Refuse respectyng frends that courtly knowe to faine For gold that winnes for gold shall lose the self same frend againe The Quaile needs neuer feare in foulers netts to fall If he would neuer bende his eare to listen to his call Therefore trust not to sone but when you frende frende soe As though to morrowe next ye feard for to become a foe Finis L. Vaux ¶ He renounceth all the affectes of loue LIke as the Harte that lifteth vp his eares To heare the hounds that hath hym in the chafe Doeth cast the winde in daungers and in feares With fliyng foote to passe awaie apace So must I fly of loue the vaine pursute Whereof the gaine is lesser then the friute And I also must lothe those learyng looks Where loue doeth lurke still with a subtill slaight With painted mocks and inward hidden hooks To trapp by trust that lieth not in waite The ende whereof assaie it who so shall Is sugred smart and inward bitter gall And I also must flie suche Sirian songs Wherewith that Circes Vlisses did enchaunt These wilie Watts I meane with filed tongs That harts of steele haue power to daunt Who so as hauke that stoppeth to their call For moste desart receiueth least of all But woe to me that first behelde those eyes The trapp wherein I saie that I was tane An outward salue whiche inward me destroies Whereto I runne as Ratt vnto her bane As to the fishe sometyme it doeth befall That with the baite doeth swallowe hooke and all Within my breast wherewith I daiely fedd The vaine repast of amorous hot desire With loytryng lust so long that hath me fedd Till he hath brought me to the flamyng fire In tyme at Phenix ends her care and carks I make the fire and burne my self with sparks Finis L. Vaux ¶ Beyng in sorrowe he complaineth MIstrust misdemes amisse whereby displeasure growes And time delaied finds frēds afraied their faith for to disclose Suspect that breede the thought and thought to sighes conuarte And sighs haue sought a floud of teares wher sobbs do seke the hart Thus harte that meanes no harme must feede on sorrowes all Vntill suche tyme as pleaseth the iudge the truth in question call Though cause of greate mistrust before that iudge appeare My truthe and mercie of my iudge I trust shall set me cleare Report these rimes at large my truthe for to detecte Yet truthe in tyme shall trie it self and driue awaie suspecte Beleue not euery speache nor speake not all you heare For truthe and mercie of the iudge I trust shall set me cleare Finis L. V. ¶ Beyng in loue he complaineth ENforst by loue and feare to please and not offende Within the
words you would me write a message must I sende A wofull errande sure a wretched man must write A wretched tale a wofull head besemeth to endite For what can he but waile that hath but all he would And yet that all is nought at all but lacke of all he should But lacke of all his minde what can be greater greif That haue lacke that likes him best must neds be most mischief Now foole what maks thee waile yet some might saie full well That hast no harme but of thy self as thou thy self canst tell To whom I aunswere thus since all my harmes doe growe Vpon my self so of my self some happ maie come I trowe And since I see bothe happ and harme betids to me For present woe my after blisse will make me not forget thee Who hath a field of golde and maie not come therein Must liue in hope till he haue forse his treasure well to winne Whose ioyes by hope of dreade to conquere or to lose So greate a wealth doeth rise and for example doeth disclose To winne the golden flese stoode Iason not in drede Till that Medeas hope of helpe did giue hym hope to spede Yet sure his minde was muche and yet his feare the more That hath no happ but by your helpe maie happ for to restore The ragyng Bulls he dread yet by his Ladies charme He knewe it might be brought to passe thei could doe little harme Vnto whose grace yelde he as I doe offer me Into your hands to haue his happ not like hym for to be But as kyng Priamus did binde hym to the will. Of Cressed false whiche hym forsooke with Diomede to spill So I to you commende my faithe and eke my ioye I hope you will not be so false as Cressed was to Troye For if I be vntrue her Lazares death I wishe And eke to thee if I be false her clapper and her dishe Finis R. L. ¶ Beyng in trouble he writeth thus IN terrours trapp with thraldome thrust Their thornie thoughts to tast and trie In conscience cleare from case vniust With carpyng cares did call and crie And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Thus tremblyng there with teares I trodd To totter tide in truthes defence With sighes and sobbs I saied O God Let right not haue this recompence Lest that my foes might laugh to see That thou wouldest not deliuer me Bis. My soule then to repentaunce ranne My ragged clothes berent and torne And did bewaile the losse it wanne With lothsome life so long forlorne And saied O God yet thou art he That can and will deliuer me Bis. Then comfort came with clothes of ioye Whose semes were faithfull stedfastnesse And did bedecke that naked boye Whiche erst was full of wretchednesse And saied be glad for God is he That shortly will deliuer thee Bis. Finis T. M. ¶ Beyng troubled in mynde he writeth as followeth THe bitter sweate that straines my yelded harte The carelesse count that doeth the same embrace The doubtfull hope to reape my due desarte The pensiue path that guids my restlesse race Are at suche warre within my wounded brest As doeth bereue my ioye and eke my rest My greedie will that seks the golden gaine My luckles lot doeth alwaie take in worthe My mated mynde that dredes my sutes in vaine My piteous plaint doeth helpe for to set forthe So that betwene twoo waues of ragyng seas I driue my daies in troubles and desease My wofull eyes doe take their chief delight To feede their fill vpon the pleasaunt maze My hidden harmes that growe in me by sight With pinyng paines doe driue me from the gaze And to my hope I reape no other hire But burne my self and I to blowe the fire Finis I.H. ¶ Looke or you leape IF thou in suertie safe wilt sitt If thou delight at rest to dwell Spende no more words then shall seme fitt Let tonge in silence talke expell In all thyngs that thou seest men bent Se all saie nought holde thee content In worldly works degrees are three Makers doers and lookers on The lookers on haue libertie Bothe the others to iudge vpon Wherefore in all as men are bent Se all saie nought holde thee content The makers oft are in fault founde The doers doubt of praise or shame The lookers on finde surest grounde Thei haue the fruite yet free from blame This doeth persuade in all here ment Se all saie nought holde thee content The prouerbe is not South and West Whiche hath be saied long tyme agoe Of little medlyng cometh rest The busie man neuer wanteth woe The best waie is in all world 's sent Se all saie nought holde thee content Finis Iasper Haywood ¶ He bewaileth his mishappe IN wretched state alas I rewe my life Whose sorrowes rage torments with deadly paine In drowned eyes beholde my teares be rife In doubtfull state a wretche I must remaine You wofull wights enured to like distresse Bewaile with me my wofull heauinesse What stonie harte suche hardnes can retaine That sharpe remorse no rest can finde therein What ruthlesse eyes so carelesse can remaine That daiely teares maie pitie winne For right I seeke and yet renewe my sore Vouchsalfe at length my saftie to restore My loue is lost woe worthe in woe I dye Disdainfull harte doeth worke suche hatefull spite In losse of loue a wretche must ioye to dye For life is death now hope is banisht quite O death approche bereue my life from me Why should I liue opprest with woe to be Finis R. H. ¶ The complaint of a Synner O Heauenly God O Father dere cast doune thy tender eye Vpon a wretche that prostrate here before thy trone doeth lye O powre thy precious oyle of grace into my wounded harte O let the dropps of mercie swage the rigour of my smarte My fainting soule suppressed sore with carefull clogge of sinne In humble sort submitts it self thy mercie for to winne Graunt mercie then O sauiour swete to me moste wofull thrall Whose mornfull crie to thee O Lorde doeth still for mercie call Thy blessed will I haue despised vpon a stubborne minde And to the swaie of worldly thyngs my self I haue enclinde Forgettyng heauen heaueÌ„ly powers where God and saincts do dwel My life had likt to tread the path the leads the waie to hell But now my lorde my lode starre bright I will no more doe so To thinke vpon my former life my harte doeth melt for woe Alas I sigh alas I sobbe alas I doe repent That euer my licencious will so wickedly was bent Sith thus therefore with yernfull plain I doe thy mercie craue O Lorde for thy greate mercies sake let me thy mercie haue Restore to life the wretched soule that els is like to dye So shall my voyce vnto thy name syng praise eternally Now blessed be the Father first and blessed be the Sonne And blessed be the holie Ghoste by whom all thyngs are doen Blesse me O blessed Trinitie with thy eternall grace That after death my soule maie haue in heauen a dwellyng place Finis F.K. ¶ The fruite that sprynges from wilfull wites is ruthe and ruins rage And sure what heedelesse youth committes repentaunce rues in age I Rage in restlesse ruthe and ruins rule my daies I rue to late my rechlesse youthe by rules of reasons waies I ran so long a race in searche of surest waie That leasure learnde me tread the trace that led to leud decaie I gaue so large a raine to vnrestrained bitt That now with proofe of after paine I waile my want of witt I trifeled forthe the tyme with trust to self conceiptes Whilst pleÌ„ties vse prickt forth my prime to search for sugred baites Wherein once learnde to finde I founde so sweete a taste That dewe foresight of after speede self will estemed waste Whiche will through wilfulnesse hath wrought my witlesse fall And heedelesse youthes vnskilfulnesse hath lapt my life in thrall Whereby by proofe I knowe that pleasure breedeth paine And he that euill seede doeth sowe euill frute must reape againe Let suche therefore whose youth and pursses are in Prime Foresee shun the helplesse ruthe whiche fews misspence of time For want is nexte to waste and shame doeth synne ensue Euil speding proofe hath hedeles hast my self hath proued it true When neighbours next house burnes t is tyme thereof take hede For fortunes whele hath choise of turnes which change of chaÌ„ses breds My saile hath been aloft though now I beare but lowe Who clims to high selde falleth soft dedst ebbe hath highest flowe Finis ê™ Yloop. ¶ Imprinted at London by Henry Disle dwellyng at the Southwest doore of S. Paules Churche 1576.