With thee she saies, farwel, mine own,

When thou, God knowest, full farre at gon;
And euen to tell thee all aright,

To thee she saies full oft, good night;
And names thee oft her own most dere,
Her comforte weal, and all her chere;
And telles her pillow al the tale
How thou hast don her wo and bale;
And how she longes and plaines for the,
And saies, Why art thou so from me?
Am I not she that loues thee best?
Do I not wish thine ease and rest?
Seke 1 not how I may thee please?
Why art thou then so from thine ease?
If I be she for whom thou carest,
For whom in torments so thou farest;
Alas! thou knowest to find me here,
Where I remain thine owne most dere;
Thine own most true, thine own most iust,
Thine own that loues thee stil, and must;
Thine owne that cares alone for the,
As thou, I think, dost care for me;
And euen the woman, she alone
That is full bent to be thine owne.

What wilt thou more? what canst thou craue,
Since she is as thou wouldst her haue?
Then set this driuel out of dore,

That in thy braines such tales doth poure;
Of absence and of chaunges straunge,
Send him to those that use to chaunge;
For she is none, I thee auow,
And well thou maiest beleue me now;
When Hope hath thus his reason said,
Lord, how I feel me well a paide?

A new blood then ore spredes my bones,
That al in ioy I stand at ones;
My handes 1 throw to heauen aboue,
And humbly thank the god of loue;
That of bys grace I should bestow
My loue so well, as I it owe;
And al the planets as they stand,
I thank them to with hart and hand;
That their aspects so frendly were,
That I should so my good will bere
To you that are the worthiest,
The fairest, and the gentilest,
And best can say, and best can do
That longes, me thinks, a woman to;
And therfore are most worthy farre
To be beloued as you are.
And so says Hope in al his tale,
Wherby he easeth all my bale;
For I beleve, and thinke it true,
That he doth speake or say of you:
And thus contented, lo! I stand
With what, that Hope beares me in hand;
That I am yours, and shal so be,
Which Hope I kepe full sure in me;
As he that all my comfort is,
On you alone which are my blis;
My pleasure chief which most I finde,
And euen the whole ioy of my minde;
And shall so be until the death
Shall make me yeld vp life and breath:
Thus good mine own, lo! here my trust,
Lo! here my truth, and seruice just;
Lo! in what case for you I stand,
Lo! how you haue me in your hand;
And if you can requite a man,
Requite me as you finde me than.

OF THE TROUBLED COMMONWELTH
RESTORED TO QUIET BY THE MIGHTY
POWER OF GOD.

THE secret flame that made all Troy so hot,
Long did it lurk within the woden horse:
The machine huge Trojans suspected not,
The guile of Greeks, nor of their hiden force:
Till in their beds their armed foes them met,
And slew them there, and Troy on fire set.

Then rose the rore of treason round about, And children could of treason cal and cry, Wiues wrong their hands, the whole fired town throughout,

When that they saw their husbands slain them by, And to the gods, and to the skies they shright Vengeance to take for treason of that night,

Then was the name of Sinon spred and blowne,

And whereunto his filed tale did tende,
The secret starts and metings then were knowne
Of Trojan traitours tending to this end,
And every man could say as in that case,
Treson in Anthenor and Eneas.

Like to our time, wherin hath broken out The hidden harme that we suspected least, Wombed within our walles and realme about, As Grekes in Troy were in the Grekeish beast; Whose tempest great of harnes, and of armes We thought not on, till it did noise our harmes.

Then felt we well the piller of our welth, How sore it shoke; then saw we euen at hand Ruine how she rusht to confound our helth, Our realme and us with force of mighty band, And then we heard how treason loude did rore, Mine is the rule, and raigne I wyll therfore.

Of treason marke the nature and the kynde, A face it beares of all humilitie, Truth is the cloke and frendship of the minde, And depe it goes, and worketh secretly, Like to a mine, that crepes so nye the wall, Till out breakes sulphure, and oreturneth all.

But he on hye that secretly beholdes The state of things, and times hath in his hand, And pluckes in plages, and them again unfoldes, And hath apointed realmes to fall and stand; He in the midst of all this sturre and rout, Gan bend his browes, and moue himself about.

As who should say, and are ye minded so? And thus to those, and whom you know I loue? Am I such one, as none of you do know? Or know you not that I sit here aboue, And my handes doe hold your welth and wo, To raise you now, and now to ouer throw,

Then thinke that I, as I haue set you all In places where your honours lay, and fame; So now my selfe shali geue you eche your fall Where eche of you shall have your worthy shame; And in their handes 1 wyll your fall shall be, Whose fall in yours you sought so sore to see,

Whose wisdome hye as he the same fore saw, So it is wrought, such lo! his iustice is, He is the Lord of man, and of his law, Praise therfore now his mighty name in this; And make accompt that this our case doth stande;

As Israell free from wicked Pharaos hand.

THE LOUER TO HIS LOUE HAUING FOR-
SAKEN HIM, AND BETAKEN HER
SELFE TO AN OTHER.

THE birde that somtime built within my brest
And there as then chiefe succour did receiue;
Hath now elswhere built her another nest,
And of the old hath taken quite her leaue.
To you mine oste that harbour mine old guest,
Of such a one, as I can now conceiue.

Sith that in change her choise doth chief consist,
The hauke may check, that now comes faire to fist.

THE LOUER SHEWETH THAT IN DIS SEMBLING HIS LOUE OPENLY HE

THE LOUER DISCEIUED BY HIS LOUE
REPENTETH HIM OF THE TRUE LOUE
HE BARE HER.

I THAT Ulysses yeres haue spent
To finde Penelope,

Finde well that folly I haue ment
To seke that was not so,
Since Troylus case hath caused me
From Cressed for to go,

And to bewaile Ulysses truth,
In seas and stormy skies,
Of wanton will and raging youth,
Which me haue tossed sore,
From Scylla to Charibdis cliues,
Upon the drowning shore.

Where I sought hauen, there found I hap,
From danger unto death;

Much like the mouse that treades the trap
In hope to finde her foode,

And bites the bread that stops her breath,
So in like case I stoode.

To further me so fast,

Till now repentance hasteth him,

That where I sanke there now I swim,
And have both streame and winde,
And lucke as good, if it may last,
As any man may finde.

That where I perished, safe I passe, And finde no perill there,

But stedy stone, no grounde of glasse,
Now am I sure to saue,

And not to flete from feare to feare,
Such anker holde 1 haue.

THE LOUER

HAVING ENIOYED HIS LOUE HUMBLY THANKETH THE GOD OF LOUE, AND AVOWING HIS HART ONELY TO HER FAITHFULLY PROMISETH VTTERLY TO FORSAKE ALL OTHER.

WILL.

Not like a God came Jupiter to woo,
When he the faire Europa sought unto:
Another forme his godly wisdome toke,
Such in effect, as writeth Ouides boke;
As on the earth no liuing wight can tell,
That mighty Jove did loue the quene so well.
For had he come in golden garmentes bright,
Or so as men mought haue stared on the sight;
Spred had it bene, both through earth and aire,
That Joue had loued the lady Europa fair.
And then had some bene angry at the hart,
And some againe as ielous for their part.
Both which to stop, this gentle god toke mind,
To shape himselfe into a brutish kind;
To such a kinde as hid what state he was,
And yet did bring him, what he sought to passe.
To both their 10yes, to both their comfort sone,
Though knowen to none, till all the thing was done;
In which attempt, if I the like assay,
To you, to whom, I do my selfe bewray:
Let it suffice that I do seke to be,
Not counted yours, and yet for to be he.

serue

[well deserue; I yelde thee thankes upon my knees, as thou dost By the my wished ioyes haue shaken off dispaire, And all my storming dayes be past, and wether

waxeth faire;

take,

The rest of Venus derlinges all, I utterly forsake; And to performe this vow, I bid my eyes beware, That they no straungers do salute, nor on their beauties stare.

My wits, I warne ye all, from this time forth take hede, [fede. That ye no wanton toyes devise, my fansies new to My eares be ye shut up, and heare no woman's voice, [hart rejoice. That may procure me once to smile, or make my My feete full slow be ye, and lame when ye should

moue,

To bring my body any where, to seke another loue: Let all the gods above, and wicked sprites below, And every wight in earth accuse, and curse me where I go;

If I do false my faith, in any point or case, A sodein vengeance fall on me, I aske no better grace;

Away then sily ryme, present mine earnest faith, Unto my lady where she is, and mark thou what she saith;

And if she welcome thee, and lay thee in her lap, Spring thou for joy, thy maister hath his most desired hap.

TOTUS MUNDUS IN MALIGNO POSITUS

COMPLAINE we may, much is amisse,
Hope is nie gone to have redresse,
These daies ben ill, nothing sure is,
Kinde hart is wrapt in heavinesse,

The sterne is broke, the saile is rent,
The ship is geven to winde and waue,
All helpe is gone, the rocke present,
That will be lost, what man can saue?
Thinges hard, therfore, are now refused,
Labour in youth is thought but vaine:
Duty by will-not is excused,
Remoue the stop, the way is plaine.

Learning is lewd, and held a foole;
Wisdome is shent, counted to raile,
Reason is banisht out of schole,
The blinde is bold, and wordes prevaile.

Power without care slepeth at ease,
Will without law, runneth where he list,
Might without mercy cannot please,
A wise man saith not, had I wist.

When power lackes care and forceth not,
When care is feble and may not,
When might is slothful and will not,
Weedes may grow where good herbs cannot.

Take wrong away, law nedeth not,
For law to wrong is bridle and paine;
Take feare away, law booteth not,
To strive against streame, it is but vaine.

Wyly is witty, brainsick is wise,
Trouth is folly, and might is right,
Wordes are reason, and reason is lies,
The bad is good, darknesse is light.

Wrong to redresse wisdome dare not,
Hardy is happy, and ruleth most,
Wilfull is witlesse, and careth not
Which end go first, till al be lost.

Few right do loue, and wrong refuse,
Pleasure is sought in every state,
Liking is lust, there is no chuse,
The low geve to the hye checke mate.
Order is broke in thinges of weight,
Measure and mean who doth not flee?
Two thinges preuaile, money and sleight,
To seme is better than to be.

The bowle is round, and doth downe slide,
Eche one thrusteth, none doth uphold,
A fall failes not, where blinde is guide,
The stay is gone, who can him hold?

Folly and falshod prateth apace,
Trouth under bushel is faine to crepe,
Flattery is treble, pride sings the base,
The meane the best part, scant doth pepe.

To vertue and trouth it geves no rest,
This fiery plage the world infectes,
Mens harts are burnde with sundry sectes,
And to eche man, his way is best.

With flodes and stormes thus be we tost,
Awake, good Lord, to thee we crye,
Our ship is almost sonk and lost,
Thy mercy help our misery.

Mans strength is weake; mans wit is dull,
Mans reason is blinde, these thinges t'amend,
Thy hand (O Lord) of might is full,
Awake betyme, and helpe us send.

In thee we trust, and in no wight, Save us, as chickens under the hen; Our crokedness thou canst make right, Glory to thee for aye. Amen.

THE WISE TRADE OF LYFE.

Do all your dedes by good advise,
Cast in your minde alwaies the end;
Wit bought is of to dere a price,
The tryed trust, and take as frend.
For frendes I find there be but two,
Of countenance, and of effect:
Of thone sort there are inowe,
But few been of thother sect.
Beware also the venym swete,
Of crafty wordes and flattery;
For to deceiue they be most mete,
That best can play hypocrisy.

Let wisdome rule your dede and thought,
So shall your workes be wisely wrought.

THAT FEW WORDES SHEW WISDOME,
AND WORK MUCH QUIET.
WHO list to leade a quiet life,
Who list to ride him self from stryfe,
Give eare to me, marke what I say,
Remember well, beare it away.

Holde backe thy tong at meate and meale,
Speak but few wordes, bestow them well;
By wordes the wise thou shalt espye,
By wordes a foole sone shalt thou trye,
A wise man can his tongue make cease,
A foole can never holde his peace.
Who loveth rest, of wordes beware,
Who loveth wordes, is sure of care:
For wordes oft many have been shent,
For silence kept, none hath repent.
Two eares, one tong, onely thou hast,
Mo thinges to heare then wordes to wast.
A foole in wise can forbeare,

He hath two tonges, and but one eare.
Be sure thou kepe a stedfast brayne,
Lest that thy wordes put thee to payne;
Wordes wisely set are worth much gold,
The price of rashness is sone told.
If time require wordes to be had,
To hold thy peace I count thee mad.
Talke only of nedeful verities,
Striue not for trifling fantasies;
With sobernesse the truth boult out,
Affirme no thing, wherin is doute.
Who to this lore will take good hede,
And spend no mo wordes, than he nede,
Though he be a foole, and have no braine,
Yet shall he a name of wisdom gaine.
Speake while time is, or hold thee still,
Wordes out of time, do oft things spill;
Say well, and do well, are things twaine,
Twice blest is he in whome both raigne.

A KIND of coal is as men say,
Which have assaied the same?
That in the fire, will wast away,
And outward cast no flame.

Unto my self may I compare
These coales, that so consume,

Where nought is sene, though men do stare, Instede of flame but fume.

They say also, to make them burne, Cold water must be cast,

Or els to ashes they will turne,

And half to sinder waste.

As this is wonder for to se,
Cold water warm the fire,

So hath your coldnesse caused me
To burne in my desire.

And as this water, cold of kinde,
Can cause both heat and cold;

And can these coales both break and binde, To burne, as I have told;

So can your tong of frozen yse, From whence cold answers come, Both coole the fire, and fire entice, To burn me all and some;

Lyke to the corne that stands on stacke, Which mowen in winter sunne, Full fayre without, within is black, Such heate therin doth runne;

By force of fire this water cold
Hath bred to burne within;
Even so am I that heate doth hold,
Which cold did first begin.

Which heat is stint, when I do striue,
To have some ease sometime;
But flame a freshe I do reuiue,
Wherby I cause to clyme

Instede of smoke a sighing breath, With sparks of sprinkled teares, That I should live this living death, Which wastes and never weares.

THE ANSWERE.

YOUR borrowed meane to moue your mone, of fume withouten flame,

Being fet from smithy smoaking coale, ye seeme so by the same

To shew is what such coals use, taught by such as have assayde,

As I, that most do wish you well, and so right well appayd,

to maintaine,

That you have such a lesson learnde, how either [in vaine; Your fredome of unkindled coale, upheaped all Or how most frutfully to frame, with worthy workmans art, [of heated hart; That cunning piece may pass therefro, by help Out of the forge, wherin the fume of sighes doth mount aloft, {mettal soft, That argues present force of fire, to make the To yield unto the hammer hed, as best the workThat the yron glowing after blast in time and man likes, [temper strikes; Wherin the use of water is, as you do seme to say, To quench no flame, ne hinder heat, ne yet to wast away;

liteth me,

But that which better is for you, and more de [like to be; To saue you from the sodeyne wast, vain cinderWhich lasting better likes in love, as you your semble ply, [teth by and by: Then doth the baven blase, that flames and fletSith then you know each use, wherein your cole may be applide,

raines,

[bide, Either to lye and last on hoorde, in open ayre to Withouten use to gather fat by falling of the [in his veines, That makes the pitchy juyce to grow, by soking Or lye on fornace in the forge, as is his use of right, [yelde her might; Wherein the water trough may serue, and enter By work of smiths both hand and hed, a cun

ning key to make,

[undertake; Or other pece as cause shall craue, and bid him Do as you deme most fit to do, and whereupon may grow [know. Such joy to you, as I may joy your joyful case to

AN EPITAPH MADE BY W. G. LYING ON
HIS DEATH BED, TO BE SET UPON
HYS OWNE TOMBE.

Lo here lyeth G. under the grounde,
Among the gredy wormes,

Which in his life tyme never found
But strife and sturdy stormes.